Let me tell you about my best friend.

First, let's talk about what a best friend is.  I think this term is overused far too frequently.  Often times, people meet a new friend and instantly have a bond and find so much happiness in this newly found friendship and immediately declare that this is their 'best friend'.  Other times people, when asked who their best friend is, lists off, like, five or six people.  Well, that is just breaking the rules.  More often, people who are in relationships or marriages claim that their significant other is their best friend.  Well, that is just a cop out and total bullshit.  And here is why:

1. A 'best friend' is singular.  You can only have one.  Not five or six - or even two.  
2. A 'best friend' implies, the one friend, over all of the rest - that is the best.  (See point one)
3. A best friend, in my case (and I feel, should be the same in all other cases), is someone who knows every bit of you - all of the bullshit that you own - and loves you anyway.  This is called unconditional love - much like a family member (or how family should be, anyway).
4. A best friend does not count as your boyfriend or partner - or whatever because I know (we all know) that there is simply things that you do not tell your partner (like when they are really pissing you off.  Or that the guy that waited on you at that one restaurant was super hot and you would totally sleep with him - if you weren't already attached. You know shit that you tell your best friend.)

Now that that is all squared away, I will introduce you to my best friend.  Her name is Katy.  I met Katy in 1996.  I was fifteen years old and Katy was fourteen years old.  We were on the school bus and I approached her because I really liked the shirt and rings that she was wearing.  There was an immediate connection despite the fact that, from the outside, we appeared to be so very totally mismatched.  But our insides, oh our insides....-well, they were a perfect fit.

Katy was into, what we would have labeled in the '90's as, punk, goth, and folk music.  And she dressed as those three combined.  She loved photography, witchcraft, writing poetry, and listening to music.  I, on the other hand, was - for the most part - popular (not in an arrogant way, I just was a social butterfly, and had many friends), loved name brand clothes (who am I kidding, I still do), and the only punk music I had really listened to was NoFX, Pennywise, and some 'punk' music that my boyfriend played out of his basement in Granger (you can see how punk this music really was not) -  I did, however, enjoy writing poetry and I loved being photographed.  These were the two thing we instantly bonded over.  Katy took pictures and I was in them.  Afterward, we would write our poetry and share it with each other.  With our hangouts ebbing and flowing throughout high school, we were still good friends and close (I have the year book signings to prove it).

I must add, before I move on, that by this time, our families had realized that Katy's mother and my father grew up together.  Such a small world.  Also, Katy's mother and my mother became 'best friends'.  It seemed, at this point, we always had either Katy over or Tina over.  We had already began to become family.

After high school we began to hang out even more.  Katy started dating some douchebag and I dated another.  We all thought it to be a brilliant idea to live together.  So we did.

After those relationships crashed and burned (as they all do, or should do at 19) Katy and I had a brief moment of living separately, then eventually moved back in together again.  At this point we are 20/21 years old.  If I had to pinpoint it, exactly, this is when I believe Katy and I became true - genuine best friends.

Our 20's were the best!  We did everything together.  Essentially (as I stated in her wedding toast), we were everything for each other.  Because of this, our families got to know each other even better and our parents treated us both as their daughters.  Her siblings became my siblings and mine became hers.  We dated boys that were friends and we created a little family of friends that we just adored.  Like I said, we had a blast (I won't go into the gory details of all of the drugs, sex, and rock and roll, but -oops......).  Nonetheless, you get the point.

Katy and I both got married, to 'best friends', actually.  My husband and I were Katy's best man and maid of honor and they were ours.  You would want to puke it seemed so picture perfect.  Before Katy even got married she had told her husband that if he is marrying her, then he is marrying me - and he knew it and agreed.

Katy and I talk, even today, about being soul mates.  We could go through the definition of what a 'soul mate' is and if it even exists, but for sake of argument, I am just going to assume we all know what it is and agree that it is real.  Because if it exists, Katy and I are that to each other.

We have seen each other through marriages, deaths, divorces, family problems, pregnancies, friend problems, affairs, illnesses, diseases, disagreements of our own, and the death of my (essentially, our) child.  She has never wavered in her love and loyalty to me.  Aside from my family, I can wholeheartedly say that I have never had anyone love me that much, not even my (ex)husband.

Katy and I share a lot of similarities (who doesn't when they spend 15 years together), but we are very different, too.  The differences are good - we balance each other out. In jest, I am the devil and she is an angel (if only I could insert a smiley face here).  Like I said, we're the perfect fit.  

I have done things in my life that I am not proud of.  No matter how much Katy disagreed with the things that I had done, she still stood beside me.  I have lost my very own son and she still grieves with me.  I can only hope that I have returned all of the compassion, loyalty, and love that she has shown me.

Now that... - that is a best friend.

The warrior in me.

My health has never before been an issue in my life.  I have always been, for the most part, fit and generally - healthy.  My body has never experienced such a change as it did with Dominic.  I look at photos from when I was pregnant and cannot believe that I was able to stand up, let alone walk all over campus and wait tables for 9 hours a shift.  My belly was enormous and my breast were a very pretty sight.

During delivery my cervix had prolapsed (not completely - it was literally hanging by a thread) and the doctors had to sew it back into it's correct shape (because it had, not only, fallen out of me - but also came undone?  or something?  I still won't let Katy and Christi give me all of the gory details) and put it back into my insides.  My vagina was so swollen for weeks that I was terrified to look at it.  I would not look at it.  Rather, I just had Katy look at it and reassure me that my poor, precious vagina would and was going back to its normal shape.  It did (thank god) - and is even better than before.  (Phew).

Four weeks after delivering Dominic was when I began to get very sick.  I assumed it was the flu, but as the weeks went by and the pounds just fell off - I knew it had to be something else.  By the time that I was diagnosed with Celiac Disease I had lost a total of 22 pounds.  I was 118 lbs.  Gross.  My sister was constantly reminding me how gross I had looked.  I am sure 118 would look good on someone who worked out to get there, but my 118 was no muscle - no fluid - it was gross.  Once I was diagnosed I was pleased to find out that I only needed to be gluten free and my body would heal itself and could have another baby and it would survive (Dominic died because my body attacked him - once he was out of me - my body attacked myself).  For about a month or two I was feeling great being gluten free (aside from the fact that it was as if I had the worst break up ever.  A break up with a lot of my favorite things to eat).

In September I remember, specifically, the day where my vision began to blur.  I think it was only one week of school that I was able to actually concentrate.  From the second week of school through the second week of October, I simply could not concentrate.  I felt overwhelmed and just was not understanding my classes.  It was horrible.  I had told myself a few times, "You know, Erin, this is just how it is now.  You use to love school and now you hate it and you're stupid.  Stop being a wuss."  - You would think after all that I have been through with my body that I would be more self aware by now.  I thought I was having an asthma attack when I had Ray take me to the ER.  I never would have thought in one million years that I would have ketoacidosis and type 1 diabetes.

My diet and lifestyle has changed.  I have to give myself four shots a day just to stay alive.  I have been informed that I may not get Medicaid with my condition - so I am anticipating being even more poor than before.  School is improving immensely and I have learned that blurred vision and lack of focus and concentration is a symptom of my disease.  I am just happy to learn that it wasn't something in me that made me hate school (because I really do love to learn).

While I was in the hospital my doctor told me that, now more than ever, I need to quit smoking.  My having diabetes is as if I had a heartache and my body simply cannot take smoking.  This news sucked to hear.  I mean, after all that I have given up this past year - now I have to give up cigarettes?!?!?  I mean, Katy and I were already planning on quitting and I realllly want to quit - but I kind of wanted to do it on my own terms.  Well, now I cannot.

My quit day is just a few days away.  I have numbers for support groups and Katy and Christi are doing it with me.  I want to be a non-smoker.  I want it so bad.  I am a little scared.  But I really want this - I have for a long time.  And if being married to an addict didn't teach me anything - it did teach me this:  You gotta want it.  And I do. 

And because all things should come with a song:

Halloween-ie.

Fall always reminds me of Matt.  I am not sure why.  He would visit all times of the year, but Halloween was his favorite time of year.  He loved horror movies, dressing up, and the entire ambiance that was Halloween.  There is one Halloween that I will never forget.

I am not sure exactly what year it was - sometime between 2004 and 2006, I do know that.  Matt had come up for a visit and we decided to have dinner at Matuba (his favorite) and then go to the haunted house in Niles.  We arrived at Matuba to find it oddly busy (it was very rare, around the time that we went, that it was busy).  It took a pretty long time for us to get our food.  You could see the frustration and hunger rage that was brewing beneath Matt's brow.  I had never really seen him in this mood before.  It was highly uncomfortable.  Our food came and it (as always) was well worth the wait.  Matt immediately calmed down and enjoyed his food and company.  Something had happened some point during dinner where we had to go back to Katy's house to get Shannon and Chuck.  So we went.

When we got to Katy's house we found all of her lights to be turned off - even the office light was off (and that light is rarely off because, for some reason, the computer was hooked to it and turning it off would turn the computer off - or something).  It was quite bizarre and eerie - then her porch door was locked shut.  This never happens.  It was safe to say, at this point, that we were all a bit freaked out.  After minutes of trying to figure out how to get into the house, Matt realized he had tools in his truck and could unscrew some hinges on the porch door so we could get to the front door to the house.  Once Matt unscrewed the door and proceeded with caution into the house (because now we're most certain someone in hiding in there to kill us all) he found Chuck in the basement hiding along with our friend Carl.  Matt nearly slit Carl's throat.  It was another strange act of Matt's that I had never seen before.  In the end, what had happened was that Chuck, Shannon, and Carl cut the lights to the house and hid from us.  They did not realize that when they shut the porch door behind them - a strand of lights from the porch wrapped around the door - causing it to seem locked to us.  They meant to scare us, and scare us - they did.  So we loaded into vehicles and proceeded to the haunted house.

I do not remember much of the haunted house, except for the fact that I was probably scared shitless (because I swear that if I were a murderer, I'd do most of my killing at the haunted house.  I mean, really - it's genius).  Anyway - there was this one part in the house that I will never forget.  We approached a tent that was covered in fog.  We walked into the fog and realized that we could not see a thing - nothing but fog.  It was, pretty much, the most terrifying thing I had experienced in my life, at that point.  Shannon and I clung to each other for life.  We inched our way through the tent when I suddenly realized a werewolf an inch from my nose.  No exaggeration, an inch from.my.nose.  I dropped to the floor in fear and dragged Shannon down with me.  I was screaming for help and could hear nothing but laughter.  I looked up and could see the end of the tent was only four feet from me.  I rushed to the end to find Matt, Garth, and the werewolf laughing at me.  I was very confused and thought (for some strange reason) that Matt was the werewolf in front of my face (because, truly, only someone you know well would dare enter my personal space the way that damn stranger did).  The guys were in stitches laughing at me.  Matt just thought it was the funniest thing ever.  He saw the entire thing happen.

I don't remember much of the rest of the night.  I am sure it ended with me being chased by some asshole chainsaw guy that made me pee my pants in fright, but I know it was fun. 

I miss Matt.

The day of the divorced.

On Saturday Katy and I were driving to a gathering in her car.  She put a song on that she thought I would really like.  It prompted a conversation about another song that she and Shannon had played for me the day that I decided to divorce Garth.

I hadn't heard the song since that day, it was nearly 2 1/2 years ago and I never could remember what it was called or who sang it - and I always forgot to ask Shannon and Katy.  I finally remembered to ask and Katy also could not remember.  So I called Shannon.  After she told me the title and artist I said to her, "I just realized how weird it is that I decided to get a divorce while I was in a car with you and Katy."  Shannon replied, "Yea, what is even more weird is that you actually went through with it..., mostly because we say we're going to do a lot of things and never follow through with it."  We laughed and said our goodbyes.  This then made me recall the day I decided to get a divorce.

It was sometime in April of 2009.  Katy, Shannon, and I were at Friday's or something having dinner.  This was during the period where Garth and I were "working" on things.  I am quoting 'working' because it was not really that.  You see, in this period Garth and I had agreed to not speak or see Ray or Nikki.  Well, Garth really didn't follow through with that.  I believe it was the night before my dinner with Katy and Shannon that I was on the phone with Garth and Nikki had just swung by his house at 1am.  He could not just tell her to leave him alone and let him figure things out - and well, I was just at my wits end.  So, anyway - back to the story.  We were sitting at our table and the girls were talking about stuff - random stuff - movies, music - whatever.  And for some reason I just could not stay focused on what they were talking about.  I could not think about anything other than my current situation.  It was all consuming.  I was exhausted of my life revolving around all of the drama that had been going on.  I just could not take it anymore.  I was so tired of it all.  I stopped the girls conversation and we began to discuss, once more, all of the drama that came along with my marriage.  I felt bad interrupting the conversation for, yet again, my stupid marriage - but the girls understood.  We talked and talked about how frustrated I was.  I just wanted to scream.  We left the restaurant and got into Katy's car.  Shannon put a song on and said that this song reminded her of Garth and I.  I took one listen and it was right then that I decided to just - be done.  That his inability to put aside one thing for some sort of resolution with another was his decision and that I just needed to bow out.

So I did.

Here's the song.

I am blogging solely because I want to record how awesome I feel today. 

The shaking, confusion, and blurry vision has cleared up.  My concentration and comprehension seems to be going back to normal.  I could not be happier at the moment.  My classes seem to be easier and I feel all around better about my entire situation.  I feel like Rocky Balboa right now (even though I have never seen any of the movies, there's like, 12, right?). 

Nonetheless - I feel good.

That exhaustion I was talking about - and those deep sighs.  Yea, not exhaustion.  Type 1 diabetes, rather.  *sigh - this year has been too much.

Last week I went into the ER thinking I was having an asthma attack, when indeed, I was having a case of Ketoacidosis.  My sugar was sky high, and if I had fallen asleep that night, I may have not woken up the next morning.  I was in ICU for some days, then in recovery.  Needless to say - I am insulin dependent now.  I also have hypo-thyroid.  So I am on meds for that now, as well.  Not to mention that the day after I got out of the hospital my mother's best friends daughter died from the cancer she has been battling since January.  This year has been too much. 

We just got home from the viewing.  Tomorrow is the funeral.  I was not thinking tonight and didn't really realize that it would be a weird little high school reunion at this viewing.  Bizarre.  I just feel horrible for the family and for my mom.  This year.... *sigh.........

I am trying to get use to administering my own shots 4 times a day and the feeling of being on insulin.  My vision is blurry and it is hard to focus.  If I pass all of my classes this semester I will be proud of myself.  It is very hard to concentrate.  I have good days and bad.  I am barely working and just struggling to keep my shit together.

I nearly had a melt down at the funeral tonight.  I really just feel so out of control.  We had to push back our vacation and that really sucks.  The good part is that we're probably going to go in January when we may need it the most.  I am sure Christmas will be a rough one without Dominic.  How much is one person suppose to handle?  I am starting to feel like I'm going to crumble to bits.

And so here's a song I have fallen in love with as of recently.  It's the best and I love singing along to it.

Labor Day.

It is the end of summer.  It is the end of, what could have been - or with some other perspective was the worst summer of my life.

I was sick from April 29-July 17, it was horrible.  During that time I could do nothing but lay around on the couch - or near a pool (the pool HAD to be near a bathroom for my random spurts of vomiting and such).  I could get on my knees and thank God so very much for providing me with the most amazing support group.  Jessica Longenecker who sat on my couch with me for countless hours watching mindless television because she knew I just needed company.  Annie Logan, for lounging in and near her pool because she knew that all that I really wanted (and really needed) was vitamin D and good company.  Katy Hoyt and Christi Milliken for making me get out of the house for trivia nights and other random adventures because they knew that I needed to continue socializing, otherwise I would shrivel up in my own depression.  Raymond Phillips for catering to me, worrying about me, and letting me not work or go to school because he knew better than I even knew - that I needed to heal emotionally.  Megan White, and all of my Le Peep ladies who would just sit with me for entire days at a time talking with me about Dominic and crying with me, and researching as much as we could - trying to figure out what was wrong with me.  Anneke Haas who cooked for me, every Wednesday night because she knew that I needed to eat.

After July 17th I was able to enjoy 3 weeks of summer.  I went to my uncles pool at least 3 times a week to talk with my cousin and heal.  I was able to hang out with Glenn Mead before he left for Hawaii.  I pretty much stole all of his time - and he let me.

I have started school and have gone back to work, but it is today that summer is "officially" over.  And as I reflect on what, truly, could have been the worst summer ever, I realize that it may have been the best.  Because of this illness and loss - I have been able to reflect on my life and do serious self examination and have grown more than I have ever thought to believe possible.

I am a Phoenix who did dare to rise up from the ash.  And I am proud.