This isn't a pleasant story with a feel good ending. The nature of a soul mate is that the connection is electric, intense, all consuming. Having a relationship of that nature at such a young age was confusing ...for everyone. I know, I know, first loves are always intense, but this was different. This was the result of a soul contract, we agreed to meet in this lifetime before we got here. Feeling these emotions at thirteen was overwhelming, hearing "You can't fall in love that young. You don't love each other, you don't even know what love is at thirteen." I did and it was a beautiful and awful adventure and I will never discount anyone's level of feeling love based on their age, what a silly concept, really.
This is a very long story that I will overwhelming shorten considerably and jump to the aftermath of what happened, not because it hurts, but because I am so far removed from this story, it feels like I'm telling someone else's. I spent years healing from these wounds and holding this girl that went through this trauma. She is tired and the version you see of me is grateful for her strength but I am not that person.
After a while of living in this tornado of emotions, my mother forbid me from seeing him, this is where my life fell apart. Not just because of this, but it was certainly a catalyst to open the floodgates of trying to be my own person living in deep codependency with a person you didn't cross or upset.
This is where the self depreciating behavior started, cutting, punching, hurting myself and actually, when I started stretching my ears because of the pain. I didn't want to be on earth most of the time, I was fucking trapped in this body, in this house, in this family, on this planet. I was alone. I realized later that, being a Medium and having absolutely not grasp of the spirit world or any boundaries, there were many tormented spirits tormenting me because it was easy. I was failing school. My very expensive seventh grade education. I either had A's or F's so this lead everyone to think I was lazy, which lead to counselor after counselor, which lead to discovering I couldn't read. I was diagnosed with autism, general anxiety disorder, ADHD, PTSD, depression and even borderline personality at one point. This lead to the medicine. Adderall. Made me as numb as I wanted to be. Made me a robot, it saved me because I felt invisible, I didn't FEEL anything! What magic is this?!
As time went on and I was just existing, not feeling started to get weird, so I would do things to feel. The cutting got worse. The "cries for help" the "you just want attention" well, for someone to notice me drowning would have been nice, but I just wanted to feel.
I transferred schools here and there, this is where my eyesight went bad, I am pretty convinced it was a result of me wanting to not live my life and wanting so badly to escape that I didn't even want to see what my life had become and my body responded. The anxiety got worse. The diagnosis this time: Agoraphobia.
I would get somewhere and panic in the parking lot, I would panic so much that I would black out.
I remember my first panic attack, I fell to the ground so hard that I had to have surgery on the ear I busted open. I was thirteen. Then I had one every day since then.
Amidst this shit show, my family attended what you would call a "mega church" and in our family church wasn't what you would call "optional" I would sob every Saturday night. I would hide in the closet. But I wanted to be good so bad that I would go. Two tabs of Klonopin and I would go.
This is what life looked like for a long time. I met another boy, because codependents will codependent! I thought he saved me from a lot of things, but it just gave me something else to think about. Around this time I got a service dog, she really did save me. I was able to leave my house, my yard, but not go far because my disease wasn't physical and people would ask questions, people would look at me and tell mall security that I had a dog in the mall. They would ask me to leave because while I knew the ADA inside and out and while I had it written on her service dog card, I was already sweating through my shirt, I was already chocking for air and I was already defeated. But we could go some places and we did. And she saved me.
I would like to conclude this here and perhaps continue another day. I would also like people to know that soul mates always have a purpose, but that doesn't mean they need to be part of your life forever. You don't owe anyone for the good times, especially after they turn toxic, which often happens. It is the universe saying "this contract has ended, it's time to move on." I thank that boy I met, I later learned why we agreed to meet, he wanted to save me from something that would have been more traumatic, and truthfully, he was the only thing that kept me alive for several years. I knew something so beautiful still existed through the unbearable weight of all the pain. Love. What a blessing through such trials. The contract has ended, we will never see each other again and if we did, I am healed. I am no longer that person.