Relief, Jubilation, Peace of Mind

It's been nearly two weeks since I spoke to my friend. I tried calling twice last week to see if she was okay, but I didn't get a response. I finally got a text message on Friday that said she was sorry she hadn't called, but she had been more or less "checked out" for the week, as she was working through some things. I spoke to her today and she told me she had stopped taking her pain meds.

I burst into sobs of relief. At that release of the floodgates, I was able to express how worried I had been that the person I knew and loved was gone for good. She had been barely even a shadow of herself, but even after one week of weaning herself off them, she was fully recognizable to me again. She had been, in her own words, out of control. Two separate people confronted her and with that, she pulled herself out of the haze long enough to take stock of her situation. She didn't like what she saw.

I apologized profusely for not being able to be someone to help her see how far down she had fallen. She understood why I hadn't and admitted that if it had come from me, she didn't know if the effect would have been the same.

Either way, I feel this amazing sense of gratitude that someone was able to get through to her. She made the choice alone, she didn't tell anyone about it until after she went through her first week of severe depression and she has an appointment for later this week to get a cortizone injection in her back to help keep her off them.

Even now, a couple of hours later, I'm still feeling weepy. Selfishly, I can say that my tears are only partially happy for her. The other part of them is no longer having to feel heartbroken that I've lost my best friend.