A Downward Spiral
2016—Real Life
JENNA stared into her wine glass as she tried to shut down her mind. She was on her fourth glass and even the buzz she was feeling wasn’t stopping her thoughts.
She felt lost.
Her life was spinning out of control, and every time she thought she had a handle on things something else came along and kicked her back down. For every step she took forward, she was falling back three, and she didn’t know what to do.
She picked up her phone and opened her text messages. Even with her eyesight blurring she looked at the top three messages and bit her lip. She had no idea why she was holding on to them, but she couldn’t bring herself to erase them.
After a moment she tapped the last of the three and started scrolling through the messages, her throat tightening as she read them.
They were from her closest friend, or at least the person she’d thought was her closest friend. She’d always known Patty suffered from depression and anxiety. It had never been a secret between them. They’d had moments when Patty would shut herself off from the world or lash out at her while she was struggling, but it had never been like this before. This was final, and it had come out of nowhere.
Jenna, I’m writing you this to tell you that we can’t be friends anymore. I need to cut negativity out of my life, and I can’t handle the stress our friendship is causing. I used to be able to lean on you, but now I feel completely unsupported, and your issues are taking up too much of my time and energy. I tried to be there for you, but I can’t handle it anymore, so I’m asking you to take the time to figure out your life and to stay out of mine.
You’re dragging me down, and I’m done with it. You’re the reason I’ve been suffering, and I finally see that now. You’ve been the problem the whole time, and in order for me to get better and be in a better place I need you to leave me alone. We were friends, but now we’re nothing. I don’t wish any harm on you, but I hope you get a taste of what you’ve been putting me through.
Every problem in your life is your own fault and of your own doing. You’ve done all of this. You’ve created all your issues, and you’re a drama queen. It isn’t about you anymore. Now it’s about me. You think you have it so bad and that your life is so hard, but it really isn’t. Try living my life for one day, and you’d see what a pathetic loser you really are. You’re not special. You’re not unique, and you’re not the be all and end all of the world. You’re toxic and you’re fake, and everything that’s happening is Karma.
Don’t contact me again or I’ll call the police and have you arrested for harassment. Goodbye forever.
Everything in the message was something she’d already wondered about, and to read it from the person she thought was her best friend was devastating.
It made her second-guess everything, and it made her wonder if everything that had happened was her fault. Had she caused all of the things she’d been dealing with?
She shook her head and exited out of the message. She should just delete the entire thread and throw her phone in the corner, but she didn’t. Sighing and biting back tears, she opened the second message to read the last thing that had been sent.
Patty might have been her closest friend, but Tristan had been her rock. Patty was flaky, and she wasn’t always the best support. When she’d failed, Tristan had been there to pick her up and help her find her feet again.
Six months ago he’d moved out of state with his husband. They’d kept in touch, but then three months ago he’d messaged her to tell her that he was sick. She’d called him, and he’d told her the truth. He’d had a heart defect at birth and had a heart condition ever since. He’d come down with a virus, and it had weakened his heart to the point where he’d had a heart attack. The damage had been irreparable, and he was in heart failure. They’d put his name on the donor list, and everyone had been hopeful. He was thirty years old and otherwise healthy. He was the perfect candidate.
That morning at ten a.m. her phone had beeped. When she’d opened her messages and seen his name she’d hoped for good news. It wasn’t good news.
Jenna, it’s Brian. I had to tell you, but I can’t bring myself to say the words out loud without crying. Tristan died last night. He had another heart attack, and they couldn’t revive him. He’s gone.
As she reread the words her wine glass fell from her hand, and she didn’t even hear it as it shattered on the floor. All she could hear was the roaring of her blood rushing through her veins and her own sobs as she started to cry. She was empty. The pit in her stomach felt like a boulder, and it was getting hard to breathe.
She couldn’t believe he was gone. They’d been friends for six years. They’d shared everything and had been there for each other when they hadn’t had anyone else. She’d known about his heart, but he’d never told her just how serious it had been.
He’d only been thirty years old. He should have been starting his life with his partner and planning a wonderful future, but he was dead. His life was over, and it hadn’t even had a chance to really start.
She fell back on the cushions of her couch as she started to hyperventilate. She couldn’t pull in a breath, and in her haze she wasn’t able to focus enough to force herself to exhale completely before she tried to inhale again.
The world in front of her eyes started to shimmer, and the rushing of her blood slowed until it was just a soft buzzing, like white noise.
She was on the verge of passing out, and she didn’t care. She actually welcomed the darkness, because then maybe she’d finally be able to stop thinking.
* * * *
When she came to her chest felt as though there was someone sitting on it. Her entire body ached and her head was pounding. Her eyes were swollen, and she could barely open them as she turned her head, trying to orient herself.
It took a long time before she was able to pull herself up so she was sitting, and when she looked around she saw it was daytime. She had no idea what time it was, but there was sunlight streaming in through her window.
She shook her head, and her eyes landed on her phone. It was blinking.
With shaking hands, she picked it up and unlocked it to see what the notification was about.
It was a text message, and when she saw the name she forgot all about the pain in her body or the fuzziness in her head.
She shouldn’t open it. She should just delete it and ignore it, but she had to know what he’d said. Hating herself she tapped on the message and read it.
I saw you last night. I saw your light on and I knew you were home. I didn’t come to the door but I was watching you. If I ever see another man come near you or your place, I’ll kill you. You’re mine. You will always be mine.
Forgetting all about the shattered wine glass she swung her legs over the side of the couch and jumped up.
The moment her left foot touched the floor a pain unlike anything she’d ever felt shot through her leg. She opened her mouth to scream, but she couldn’t do more than gasp as it felt as though the wind was knocked out of her. Blinding pain exploded in her foot and travelled all the way up her leg, to her hip, and right into her back.
She fell back in shock as her legs gave out on her. When she finally had the wherewithal to look down at her foot she nearly passed out again.
It took a long time for her vision to clear and to get her breath back. When she did she looked at her foot again.
She’d stepped on a large piece of glass and it was still sticking out of the center of her foot. Blood was leaking down around it and her foot was starting to swell slightly. She didn’t know what to do. She thought she might be in shock as the pain started to fade, and her entire body felt numb and cold all of a sudden.
She groped for her phone. She’d dropped it on the couch beside her. Even as she tried to grip it her hand wouldn’t close. It took her three tries before she was able to pick it up, and a few more before she was able to unlock it and dial 9-1-1.
“Emergency services. Do you require police, ambulance or fire?”
“Ambulance.” Her voice was hollow, but she managed to force the word out.
“What’s the nature of the emergency?”
“I stepped on glass.”
“I’m using the GPS on your phone to ping your location. Are you all right with that?”
“Yes. That’s fine.”
“Is the glass still in your foot?”
“Yes.”
“Whatever you do, don’t attempt to remove it. Can you elevate your foot so it’s above your heart?”
“Like if I lay down and put it up?”
“Yes. That would be ideal.”
“I can do that.”
“I’m reading an apartment building. What’s your number?”
“602.”
“On the sixth floor?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“Is your door unlocked?”
“No.”
“Can you safely get to the door?”
“There’s glass everywhere.”
“Then just lie down and keep your foot elevated. Can you call your apartment manager and tell him to meet the EMTs? To bring them up to your apartment and let them in?”
“I can try. I feel weird,” she said slowly. It was as if someone dumped freezing cold water on her and she was starting to shiver. She could barely move, and even talking was getting hard.
“That’s okay. They can call them from the ambulance and alert them before they get to you. What’s your name, Miss?”
“Jenna.”
“Jenna, I’m Toby. Can you focus on my voice?”
“Barely.”
“You’re going into shock, Jenna. Are you lying down?”
“No…not yet.”
“I need you to lie down and put your foot up. Can you look at it and tell me what you see?”
She lay back and struggled to lift her leg so she could put it on the arm of the couch. As she did she knocked the bottom of her foot against the arm and the piece of glass was ripped right out of her.
“Jenna? Jenna? What’s happening?”
She could hear Toby’s voice through her phone as she screamed in agony. It felt as though all of her nerves from her hip to her foot were being ripped out with the glass and she could barely focus on anything except the pain.
“Jenna! Jenna! Can you answer me?”
“My foot,” she gasped as tears streamed down her face. “I hit…the glass…it’s out.”
“Okay, that’s okay. Just focus on my voice and try to relax. I can understand how much pain you’re in, but try to focus on my voice,” he said soothingly and she tried to do as he said. “Can you look down at your foot now? What do you see?”
When she glanced down she almost threw up. Her stomach flipped over, and she gagged involuntarily. Blood was bursting out of the wound.
“Blood.”
“Is it flowing or spurting?”
“Spurting.”
“Is your foot throbbing?”
“Yes.”
“In time with the spurting?”
“Yes.”
“Can you wrap it in something while you wait for help? You have to keep it elevated, but you need to apply pressure.”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head. She was really starting to feel fuzzy.
“What are you lying on?”
“Couch.”
“Can you bring your leg up, put your knee on your chest and reach up? If you can do that then grab whatever is nearby and press it on the wound. It will hurt, a lot, but it’ll help stop the flow of blood. Can you do that?”
“I’ll…try.”
She lifted her leg and put her knee on her chest. Her arm felt extremely heavy as she lifted it. She didn’t have anything nearby she could use as a cloth so she just pressed her hand against the wound, trying to ignore the feel of her warm blood and the pulsing under the wound. Her foot was coated in blood, and it was running down her leg and staining her leggings. She tried not to focus on any of that and put her efforts into pressing down on the cut.
“I’m being told the ambulance is less than two minutes away. They’ll be there soon. I need you to keep talking to me.”
“Okay.”
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Blue.”
“When did you graduate high school?”
“2006.”
“Did you go to college?”
“Yes.”
“What did you study?”
“Communications.”
“Did you play any sports? Do any clubs?”
“Not really.”
“What did you have for your last meal?”
“Cereal.”
“What’s seven plus four?”
“Eleven.”
“Which is your favorite season?”
“Spring.”
“Do you like music?”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“Classic rock.”
“What’s nine plus six?”
“Fourteen.”
“Try again. What’s nine plus six, Jenna?”
“Fifteen.”
“What do you do to relax?”
“Read, go walking.”
“Okay, Jenna. The EMTs are at the building. They’re on their way up. Can you hold on until they get there?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. As soon as your door opens I want you to tell me. Tell me they’re there, and I’ll know you’re safe, okay?”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“You’re doing great, Jenna. Just a few more moments and you’ll have help there. You’ll be okay.”
She heard something at her door, and a moment later there was a loud knocking.
“EMS. Did someone call for an ambulance?”
“Yes,” she managed to call out, hoping they could hear her.
“Are they there?” Toby asked as her door was unlocked and swung open.
“Yes.”
“Perfect. I’m going to cut the connection. You did great, Jenna.”
“Thank you,” she said a moment before the line went dead.
The two EMTs who came into her apartment moved surely and quickly. One of them used a cloth they’d brought up with them, putting it on the floor and using his boot to sweep away the glass away from the couch as the other brought in a sitting gurney.
“Miss? Can you tell me your name?”
“Jenna,” she answered as one of them came to kneel beside her.
“Okay, Jenna. We’re going to check you out, fix you right up. I’m Cory, and that’s Derek.”
She tried to focus on them as they moved her hands and looked at her foot. She was feeling really weak and very fuzzy. She didn’t know how much of it had to do with her foot, her hangover, or just her life.
They bandaged her up and carried her over to the gurney. One of them grabbed her purse off the table she’d set up by the door, and the other grabbed her phone for her. When she had everything she needed they wheeled her down the hallway. She just leaned back and closed her eyes as she fought the dizziness swirling around her.
* * * *
Six weeks later she was finally able to walk normally again.
A lot had happened in those six weeks, and she was feeling very battle weary. She’d needed minor surgery on her foot to repair some of the damage. She’d had to wear a walking cast for the entire six weeks while it healed. She’d only had it taken off that morning, and her foot was weak and looked very skinny and small compared to her other one.
She felt a little more in control of her life. She’d finally gone to the police and gotten a restraining order against her ex. He’d shown up at her apartment three days after her accident, pounding on her door and demanding she let him in. She’d been so scared she’d called the police, and after they’d come she’d told them everything. It had taken almost a month to get the restraining order, but they’d been able to use the messages he’d sent her as evidence, and that had expedited things slightly. He seemed to have taken the hint, and she hadn’t seen him since, but that didn’t mean he’d forgotten about her.
She’d also gone to Tristan’s funeral. His family was local, and Brian had brought his body home for the wake and service. That had been the hardest two days of her life and she’d barely managed to keep it together while she’d been there. She’d broken down completely when they’d watched his casket being lowered into the ground. She’d spent weeks crying about his death, but she was finally coming to terms with the fact that he was gone. She would always miss and mourn him, but the pain wasn’t so fresh anymore.
Patty hadn’t tried to contact her, and Jenna was at peace with the end of the friendship. Patty’s words still hurt, but Jenna had washed her hands of everything. If Patty couldn’t be there when she’d needed her after her always being there when Patty had a problem, then she was the one who was better off.
Now the only thing bothering her was the email she’d received at the end of day. Her boss wanted to see her tomorrow morning, but he didn’t say why. She had no idea what it could be about. Whatever it was she would have to wait until tomorrow.
* * * *
Jenna put her phone to her ear and waited as it rang. She was barely managing to keep her tears in check, and when she heard her mom answer she almost broke down right there.
“Hello?”
“Mommy?”
“Jenna? Sweetie, are you okay?”
“I just…”
“What’s wrong?”
“I need to come home.”
“Of course. Do you want us to come and get you now?”
“No. I’ll drive home tomorrow. I just wanted to make sure it was okay.”
“Of course it is. You can come home any time. What happened?”
“I got fired.”
“Oh, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”
“With everything that’s happened I just need to get away for a bit.”
“Of course. Come home and we’ll take care of you.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come down? I can be there in a few hours.”
“No, it’s fine. I have some stuff to do before I leave. I’ll be home tomorrow.”
“Okay. Call me if you change your mind.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been through a lot in the past few months.”
“I’ll be okay. How’s Dad?”
“He’s fine. He’s at work if you want to call him.”
“No, that’s okay. Is Dan there too?”
“He should be. Oh Ellie and the twins are coming over tomorrow. Do you want me to cancel?”
“No, don’t. I’d love to see them,”
“Okay, they’ll be here around three, after the babies wake up from their nap.”
“I’ll be home before then.”
“Call me when you’re leaving, okay?”
“I will.”
“If you need anything, even if it’s just to vent, just call. I’m home all day.”
“Thanks. I will.”
“Bye, sweetie.”
“Bye, Mom.”
She hung up the phone and sighed.
This was the last straw. She didn’t know why everything was happening right now, but she needed to get away and revaluate her life. Things hadn’t been good for the past year and a half. It was time to go home and figure out where she fit in the world.