Far too often we hear stories of suicide. My hope for this essay is that it can reach just ONE person who needs to hear what I have to say.
2018 has been the hardest year of my life, thus far. If you have been following me then you know I lost a baby and a marriage within a short amount of time. What I have failed to mention is why the loss of marriage. (That list is far too abundant to go through point by point.)
About this time last year, I noticed that my ex’s depression seemed to be spiraling out of control. So his family and I staged an intervention, of sorts. We made him go to the doctor to seek help. Little did I know, he was already self medicating and we all should have realized that someone who doesn’t see they have a problem will never face it. Naturally, he didn’t stay on his antidepressants and in November when I am going through my ectopic pregnancy saga (go read it) he had his first real mental break and had to go into the hospital for 24 hour observation over Thanksgiving. They blamed it on him quitting his antidepressants cold turkey, which I bought for about a week.
After that episode he seemed to be a little better. He was far more paranoid about everything but he was no longer speaking in tongues, so hell, I thought we were on the right track. Right up until about a week after my surgery he yanks me off the couch by my hair and into the dining area. I am a week out of surgery, I fought back but how much strength did I really have? That moment solidified it for me, I was done! I had financially supported him for three years, emotionally did what I could for a crazy person and this is the thanks I get? Me, wishing I could shave my head so he wouldn’t have something to grab a hold of? “This can’t be my life…” I would think constantly from that point.
His rage continued to worsen, he threw me through walls, busted my lips, all the typical things. I continued to look for ways to get myself out of this without making things worse. I am sure you are thinking why didn’t you just leave? My answer is this… Until you are in that position yourself, you have no idea what you will do. I had always been the same way, “JUST LEAVE” I thought I would tell someone. But it was my name on the title of the trucks, it was my name on the deed of the ranch, I had everything financed, I was the one who worked hard for it, it was MINE! And I am the one who would have had to deal with the repercussions of financial ruin had it all fallen apart. I got myself into this mess and I’ll be damned if I can’t find my way out of it.
One morning in March, while in New Mexico for work, I get a phone call from him speaking in tongues again. Apparently, he had all 5 of his hunting rifles with him, he had bought cattle for a guy who didn’t want them and killed his dog that was in the bed of the truck, that was also stuck in a ditched because he had ran off the road. What an actual shit show, I know.
Long story short… He was sent to a mental health facility in Kansas where they diagnosed him with Schizophrenia. Once out of the hospital he quit taking his meds and ended up right back in another. That’s when the nurse called to tell me to take “every precaution necessary because he WILL kill you.” I haven’t had a good nights sleep since April 23, 2018.
I harbor a lot of shame and resentment for what I allowed to happen to me. And I use the word ‘allow’ because, had I not let my pride get in my way, there were so many people who would have helped me. I was too proud. I look at myself as a bright, energetic, intelligent, beautiful woman, how was I going to explain to someone that I let a man put his hands on me?
A few months ago the Lord sent me a guiding light, if you will. I will leave her unnamed because she has her own story to tell. I will be forever grateful that she was introduced to me when she was because she undeniably helped guide me through the rockiest terrain of this journey. She didn’t have to, she had her own shit! But she did without reservation. I want to do the same by sharing my story.
There were literally nights throughout this last year I didn’t know if I was going to live to see daylight. Terrifying to say the least. So as much as we’d like to think otherwise, just like everyone shits, everyone HAS their shit. No one is perfect, no one lives a perfect life. We do what we can to make it to another day. If you are struggling, I promise someone will listen.
If I could turn back the hands of time, I’d do a lot of things differently. By writing and putting this out in the world, I am letting go of my pride and accepting all the judgment that is to follow. You can’t unring a bell.
Thank you for taking the time to read a short verse of my story. There is a lot more left in my book.