The walk to the therapist's office was hard for me. En route I saw our old spots. Not even my neighborhood is safe, I think about him in every little detail. When I talk to people and I feel compelled to say our old internal jokes, I feel I swallow bullets of grief. I can't keep those jokes alive anymore even if I have the best memories attached to them.

My session with Ellen was good. I immediately started bawling and told her that her office reminded me of my problems I couldn't solve. We spoke about the problem and after I told her everything I had to lay down. The walls were spinning all around me and I felt like I was going to have to do so much work to get over how meaningful our relationship is. She told me I'm strong, she commended my ability to stay away from escapism even if I've abandoned the games I loved playing. I told her I uninstalled things that were meaningful to me and that I was raw dogging life so I could process everything without leaving any reserves.

The first thing she asked me is if I want to commit suicide. She asked me if I had any plans to do it, and I told her I knew how I'd try to since before I met her. I didn't lie to her, I would never. I told her about the outpour of support I got since the day it happened. I told her about my Grandfather's passing and how painful it had been to go through it without very much of Chris' support. His form of support was asking me if I felt better about a couple of times, a light pat on the shoulder and a brief hug here and there unless I asked for more when he was in the mood to do it. I wonder if it's normal for support to feel this hollow, but when I look back I know I've had really strong hugs and heartfelt words of encouragement. I don't want to be critical of him but it really confused me as to why I couldn't get what I needed. He explained it to me many times why it was the way it was, and trust me I won't soon forget. I have his grievances recorded in my memory.

The most support he gave me in December were the two predictive dreams he had. We got married twice (three times, actually...) in his dreams. Around the second time it happened, in the dream we lived in a funeral home and were getting married either before or after the funeral. I can't recall, but by then my Grandfather was in the hospital on life support. He was on life support for a month. Chris would beat his chest and say he was there for me, but he wasn't really. He did it because I pleaded for it and because I would literally pull his arms around me and tell him to squeeze. He sure made up for it in other ways; taking me out, introducing me to games he supposedly bought for us to try. (He'd have bought them anyway, don't bullshit me.) He treated me really well when he wanted to. When he was inspired to be romantic, I was so struck by the glamour. It filled me with a rush and with desire, and it reaffirmed that I must keep going to keep that spark alive. I'm a broken record at this point. I feel passionate love and I can't express it to the source anymore.

Telling Ellen about what happened to me was very difficult. I thought I saw her eyes water up but I was too busy wailing to really care about what was happening in my surroundings. I felt grateful I had a psychologist that made me feel cared for. I didn't feel like a lab project. I told her I feel like I'm having drug addiction withdrawals even though I don't do drugs. It was the toughest session I've had with her. I asked her if she saw visible signs of trauma and she told me that she did. She said it was different from clinical depression but that it would still linger and affect me for a while.

Since this all happened, I've talked to Niki and Silvia. Niki came through with some killer advice, and true to how I remember her said some pretty cruel things also that made me laugh. She has this talent where she takes one look at a situation and she delivers a one-liner of destruction. I've missed it. I would never tell anybody what she said to me but I was humored by the bite in her words. I loved our friendship so much. Silvia came through with the usual blunt and hard to swallow truths, she blamed him for her distance and told me she wasn't mad at me. I felt very comforted by both their support, as well as by everybody else's. So many Cloak & Dagger members have reached out to me with generous offers of support. Even if we're not close and won't be after my recovery process, I've had lots of people try to be there for me and I am immensely grateful.

I love him so much still. I don't wish to speak ill of him. I'm very upset and resentful towards him for being cold and calloused, but he often had been even if not every time. I can't say I was satisfied with his attempts because they seemed brief and without heart. I know he did try to support me as best as he could and he tried multiple times, but his attempts were shallow in comparison to what  I have had and how others have been there for me. They were shallow in that I felt hollow, I didn't feel like he wanted to be doing it. He just wanted to do it as fast as he could so he could go back to playing video games, to get his depressive girlfriend out of his hair.

Day three. This is Hell. I'm going to keep trying my best. I'm waiting for clarity of mind still, this brain fog has been keeping me from doing much.

I finally managed to come back to listening to music regularly, although I have to be careful with the songs that I choose. IAMX's Alive In New Light was cathartic even if it brought tears. I took out an IAMX journal I have from one of the tours, fortunately it was at my desk. It looks like Moleskine journal and it has an embossed {x} on the cover. I can't start it until I finish the previous and the previous one is currently well out of sight, so we will see when I finally collect myself and can write the story down. Or maybe I never will, I don't know.

I realized my weekends will never be the same again and that was absolutely a downer. I don't know what I'm going to do with all this time other than work. But all work and no play makes Leelah a dull girl.

I can't say I feel any better but I am hoping that with each passing day I can recover a little more of my integrity.


This is like kicking a heroin addiction. I haven't had intense body reactions such as these since I did ayahuasca back in 2012. My skin is crawling, the anxiety leaves me without breath and when I cry all I can do is wail out his name, because my words are lost. He won't hear me say how much I need him. I feel like I have been thrown into this abyss that spirals around me like a really bad night terror or nightmare. It is overwhelming and scary. I could have never seen this coming, so I had no way to prepare for it.

The morning I got broken up with I had a dream that he and I were holding guns in an island and protecting ourselves from zombies. In the dream he went with one of them and left me by myself. He was gloating to them about something, sounding real confident. In the dream the sun was setting and the sky was a vivid orange and pink. Everything was kissed by the sun and the breeze was like that of spring. I was sad in the dream, and when I woke up the sadness lingered still.

I have no notion of time passing, sometimes it feels like six hours have passed and when I check the clock its only been one and a half. The days are endless. Oh, what a pain to wake up and realize I exist in a loveless life without my home. I don't belong to him anymore. I won't get to share the same bed, be held, be teased, hear him say good night or that he loves me. My routine shattered along with the dreams of my future. Days have so far been endless and torturous. I don't want to be alive anymore.

I have therapy tomorrow and I hate that I have to go back there. I hate how I feel. I hate that I can't focus. I hate everything about my life now. Just a few days ago I still had hope I could have my dreams come true. Now I have shards of a dream that slowly dissipate. This sucks.

If I had met him on Wednesday I would have held him so close. I would have made sure to tell him how much I loved him and appreciated him for everything he did to me. I wish he would have believed me when I told him I would get it sorted. I had to, I would never have gambled with my happiness. He warned me so many times, and  all that time I thought his heart would steer him back to me. I thought he would wake up and remember how he felt, and that he would come to me because he knew I would forgive him for anything he did.

My neighbor made me food and brought it to me at lunch. All I had managed to force myself to eat were strawberries despite all the food in my fridge. I thanked him with my heart in my hands for taking care of me. A lot of people came forward with their take and their wishes, and they soothed me for a little while. Then the wound starts to open back up and I get pretty frantic.

The storm inside me isn't like the previous ones. This one's different. It stays the entire time I am conscious. It doesn't lessen its intensity or the way it rolls over me with all of its might. This one is going to do to me what Irma and Maria did to my motherland. It's violating me. I feel completely beaten up. Why did I give myself to this extent? Why didn't I reserve anything to protect myself from this kind of pain? Because I was safe before??? I thought I had finally gotten there.

I hate this so much. I hate that I'm stuck here. I hate that I ache for him and need him so much. I hate that he's okay not being around me anymore. That fucking monster.


Chris and I had a wonderful time for his birthday. We went to Universal Studios and went on all the rides multiple times. It was truly a day filled with magic. We bought wands after I got picked for wand fitting ceremony. We watched Godzilla when we left the park. We had a few great weeks where I felt he was opening up and loving me again. Our arguments were brutal on my self-esteem. I wanted to cling to him for love and he wanted me gone because I had angered him. But I never saw what was coming.

It's almost 4:30 A.M. and I haven't been able to stop crying. After Chris got out of work he called me to have a conversation about our relationship. He listed his grievances and topped it off by telling me he didn't want to be committed anymore. He has been in contact with a woman he met at a gathering and he is interested in pursuing her now. He affirms it's not cheating because he hasn't been romantic with her, but his that doesn't matter to me. He knew I would not have been okay with him giving his number out to a female, he promised me he wouldn't do it every again after his first transgression. He's been talking to her for six months.

I pleaded him to stay and work it out and not to turn his back on our relationship and our promise to one another. He said he'd think about it until he learned I had started journaling my grief in my friends only stories. He said we were done in an extremely rude way, hung up on me and blocked me. I had no way of finishing our conversation and I needed to. It just ended in one swift cut to my throat.

I'm in mourning. He was my everything. I'm very heartbroken.