My husband's suicide and the months leading up to it

Here we are again, enjoying the night

Calm before the storm, the moon shines so bright

Such unpredictable weather the past eight years

When will the clouds cover us to bring my rain of tears 

I know that it's inevitable and think what if this one’s worse

But I understand unpredictable weather has to run its course

Waiting for the storm is more stressful than when it comes

While I wait I suffer, my feelings are like drums

My beating anxious heart

Just wants to be ok

But knowing there's no control

Over any day

Much different feeling

When you're in its path

I need to be a survivor and escape its wrath 

Part of me hopes you won't have the strength to stay alive 

But I'll go to any length for a glimpse of bright sunshine

Warmth upon my skin, clear skies in my eyes

A brand new life is mine

Such unpredictable weather

Oh so many years

Waiting for the break

To dry up all my tears 

10/26/2013

I wanted to be alone

Because I was already alone

Now I have what I wanted

It's dark and silent

Homes should be safe

But this is just a house

With no trust 

No love

Tears and fears 

And now

Just me, alone

Scared

Anticipating the worst

Phone in hand

What if he comes back?

And I am not alone anymore

A piece of paper is supposed my make me safe?

Will I know what to do? 

Who to call, when to run 

When to pretend, when to scream

Will I know how to react?

Will I cave and take him back?

Been there, done that

Wasn't strong enough 

and gave myself back 

I can't lose one more year

Month

Week 

Day

Hour 

or even another second on his happiness

I want my own

I need my own

And I definitely deserve my own

I am about to lose everything 

Quite possibly my life 

Just to have something

Everything...

My life

11/11/2013

Our home

Is now just 

A house

Ours is no more

Mine

Or

Yours

Is the future

If you allow me

A future

You want to end me

Then end you

I know it's how it will go down

If I make it

Losing it all

All of the nothing

Gaining something 

Everything

If I don't

Losing it all 

But die trying to

Have it all

Risk vs Reward

It's Friday, November 15, 2013 around 10:00 PM

Footsteps rushing up the basement stairs

and now he’s standing there

How did he get in?

I'm screaming so loud

Like an alarm has been tripped inside me

It's a noise most would never encounter

These are the screams of terror just before you think you are going to die

He asks me who I'm on the phone with

I cant stop screaming to tell him it's the police

But I think he already knows

This question was rhetorical 

He’s rambling off questions again that don't need 

or have answers

Asking me why I'm doing this to him

I wanted to say 

I'm doing this FOR ME not TO you

I have the right to leave you 

I have the right to no longer love you

I have the right to end your abuse

I have every right to leave you

I'm doing this for me, not to you

But I say nothing, I'm still screaming

He reaches inside his coat 

There's a kitchen knife in his hand

I recognize the handle

I want to say 

“I hid those, how did you find them?”

Again, I say nothing and continue to scream 

He says “LOOK WHAT YOU'RE DOING TO ME" 

and plunges the knife into his chest

and I run

I will not be held hostage in this house

I need to get outside

I need to get him outside

I am out the back door, down our driveway 

and into the street and he is right behind me

We are on a neighbors front lawn 

Again he questions me, again he tells me to look what I'm doing to him

Again he stabs himself

Sirens are blaring from all directions and the street is alive with red lights, blue lights, headlights

I am light headed

I am jumping up and down and flailing my arms to ensure they see me

I have yet to stop screaming

Please protect me, end this

I again run

I know I don't want to be anywhere near him

I'm crouched down on the ground a house away

Guns are drawn and they are yelling at him to drop the knife and get on the ground

Why aren't you listening

Why are YOU doing THIS to ME

Why do I have to see this

Why aren't you listening

BANG, BANG, BANG

I've never heard gunshots before

Not so close to me anyway

More sirens

More cops

More ambulances

More detectives

Road is blocked

But I made it,

It's over and I'm ok

But I'm not ok. This was not ok, none of it, not our relationship as teens, not our marriage, none of this was ok.

Yet I still forgave him.

11/14/2017

When I think of the years I spent with you, 25 to be exact, I am empty. It's been about 7 months since I saw you last. You didn't look good that night. Hell, neither did I. You surprised me, I wasn't expecting you. My screams probably a big indicator. It must have been really important to see me, breaking the restraining order and all. When you took the knife from your coat I knew the purpose of your visit. Before You put it into your chest and I ran outside, I did notice it was a steak knife from our butcher block I had hidden earlier that week. I guess the hour you had alone in our home was just enough time to find it. Do you think the police would return it to me? after all, it completes the set. 

I never did apologize to our neighbors for the show on their front lawn. They are so particular about their landscaping I'm sure it didn't sit very well with them. Quite a drama unfolding right there on our block. I'm sure the flashing lights were nothing compared to my screams. I still think to myself how strong you were to have stabbed your own chest three times and reached your heart. That's determination to get the job done. Little excessive throwing the knife at your nephew, he was just responding to the call. His poor partner having to shoot you like that in front of him. Worst part of the evening was having to wait til dawn to get word you didn't make it. When I heard you were in surgery it was the only thing that stirred my emotions. I prayed hard. Thankfully God was on my side that night.

Sometimes I think about the reality of what I went through that November and I begin to remember the terror in my screams wishin it was just a dream, I think of the fear my son probably endured as he hid quietly behind the bathroom door

What does it do to a child to think their father is killing their mother and thinking you are hearing her suffer, and later knowing she was ok but knowing dad was taken away, hearing the police and the gunfire, seeing the entire street full of lights

What does it do to a son to be questioned by detectives the next morning, street still swarming. I suffered as a mother having  to tell him his dad was dead and explain that he was sick, but only in his head, I explained to him that without any doubt he was loved but his father suffered inside, I sighed a sigh of relief as I promised him the danger was over and we will find closure. I explained it was ok to cry and that he could even be mad and what was sad was his mature and intelligent response He said, "I'm not mad I'm just disappointed" 

An eight year old pinpointed how we all felt and it made my heart melt, he understood the feelings inside and we both sat there and cried

Funny, the cable box in the basement's still set to start on ESPN

MEN (eye roll) 

and the couch where you slept, I've kept

Not for sentimental reasons, just out of convenience

Well more like force, won't make it up the stairs or fit through the doors

But one day I'm gonna take a chain saw to that mother fucker and go get another

You slept out there more than you ever slept in our bed

I was always in here waiting, going to sleep upset

I was so lonely and you just refused to hold me

I remember the time I came out there by you in the chair

Wearing nothing but heels hoping I'd appeal

You looked at me like I had ten heads 

Nothing I ever said or did sparked your interest, that night in particular I remember being crushed, I was so embarrassed 

This house still holds onto those painful memories, despite all the new accessories

I've spent thousands making changes, But what happened here can't be remodeled

Even if it was leveled and I started from scratch

Those times follow me, they'd be back

I'll forever be startled by loud voices, unexpected noises

As much as I want to pretend that night you killed yourself didn't change me

I'm reminded regularly 

Broke down about a month ago and started therapy

Up until then, writing had been my only expression for what was paining

These past two years all I've been doing is evading

and in turn gaining

Killing myself with food

I undid all the hard work I had put in

But I can't blame you for that

That's my bad

I fucked that up all on my own

Directing all my attention focusing on changing this home

It was me who needed the attention, I should have known

My feet still have scars from the way the eggshells 

embedded themselves into flesh

Twenty five years is a long time to not have a voice or respect

To go without knowing what my own likes were 

Cause what would it have mattered

So I adapted, watched basketball and football

ESPN all night long

Just to feel we had something in common

Something we shared, make sure he felt I cared

Even if his was never apparent

I cooked food he liked, catered to his needs

Despite no reciprocation towards me

I digested all the, "Bitch shut the fuck up" 

Because I knew when to stop

But didn't, so I deserved it

I sucked it up and I held it

I stopped trying to be kissed early on 

Cause he made it clear it wasn't something he'd want

So I forced myself to think it wasn't something I needed

For much of the time I had succeeded 

Trained myself well to sustain it

The relationship

Being complacent 

Obedient

S I L E N T

Then I was exposed to a poet who invited me to write

So I tried

Opened myself up wide

Letting out everything I was hiding behind

Holding inside

He changed my life overnight

Showed me love with words

Gave me the gift of feeling worthy

Told me so many times in so many ways that he loved me

Kissed me like I forgot I needed

Brought my heart and mind back

Yes. I cheated.

03/27/2017

A few weeks after he committed suicide I found this in the word documents on my laptop.      

November 8, 2013

​OPEN RELATIONSHIP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is what this is all about? No, it isn’t. You allowed and probably pushed your wife into the arms of another man. You have been such a fool. You have acted like a spoiled brat for far too long. You called her your rock, yet you made her your punching bag. No one deserved what you did Gary. You don’t deserve her. She is better off with a married man then with your abusive ass. WHAT DOES THAT SAY ABOUT YOU? Do you love her? Or, are you scared that this is finally going to be the end of you two? This woman has given you countless opportunities to get your shit together. And you continuously fuck it up. Good a week, bad two weeks. Go a month without gambling only to turn around and gamble every penny you have. How many chances do you believe a man should have? I understand we all have faults but, you need help man. You need a Therapist, Psychiatrist, Pastor, a Sponsor. If she takes you back will you respect her? Will you complement her? Will you not be so wrapped up in your shit that you forget about her? Will you touch her hand? Will you hug her often? Will you start to do things that she wants to do? Can you change Gary? Will you change Gary? You can talk all day long the proof is in the actions. What actions and safeguards are being put in place to make sure this doesn’t happen again? She is simply tired of your boring ass. All she wanted was to be respected and you didn’t do it. You really fucked up this time. Will she give you another chance? Do you deserve another chance? You are not promised anything in this world. Anything that is worth having is worth fighting for. Will you fight for her?

I STILL WANT MY WIFE, EVEN IF SHE NOW DOESN’T WANT ME."

Dear Gary,

Since you've been gone a lot has changed around here. You know that guy I said I met and refused to live without and told you I wanted a divorce, then you killed yourself? Yeah I stopped speaking to him a month later. But, hey I met this nineteen year old homeless kid who writes poetry and moved him into our house. I bought him a piano cause he plays and basically supported him for four months while he lived here, then got tired of it and made him move back to his hometown and get his job back. I felt bad so I fronted him the money to rent a basement apartment with some coworker.  I used all the insurance money on home repairs to pretty things up, you know, to hide my truths, bought new everything, except happiness, there wasn't enough for that. Oh and all that weight I lost while I was trying to get the fuck away from you, yeah, ummm I gained it all back and then some. So I don't leave the house much, just for work and to take our daughter to dance every night. She is taking like six classes now, but school is a whole other story, she hasn't done any homework since you died, so she is failing most subjects. But I got her really expensive seats to see Taylor Swift so she doesn't hate me. As for me, like I said I don't get out much, but I found this app that I write poetry and raps on and people seem to like me. So I kinda just hang out there all the time pretending I'm someone worth a damn. Really not much has changed since you've been gone, life is still one big lie. Just now you're not the liar, I am.

Love,

Tara

Uneasy, feeling there has been no healing

How does one grieve the loss of someone that you wanted to get away from? 

Dealing with mixed emotions, often writing poems giving reasons to questions, but never answers

No solution, just creating mind pollution Conclusion...only more confusion 

I'm uneasy, clearly confused

I excused his abuse too often

Always staying soft spoken

He was so loud, he would yell to keep me filled with doubt

Silenced me, kept my mouth shut 

What could I do but pursue the art of walking on egg shells

I did it quite well, now I dwell in the past over a marriage that DID last

Longer than it should, if I could go back I would

I would have never pursued him like I did I should have split from the start 

Part of me feels guilt for feeling like that Cause my three kids I would not have

But I had no business having a baby at nineteen, WTF was I thinking

Other than holding onto him...

Twenty five year long history, delivery of three children, a mixed race family

Fantasy against all odds couple, seemed to have overcome all the obstacles

Teen pregnancy normally a recipe for disaster, but we stayed together

I loved him with every ounce of my being He was unable to show emotion, unless it was in the form of angry explosion

I accepted him for who he was, and who he could never be

I was committed to the vows for better or worse, until he became addicted and changed the course

Gambling all of our money away, stealing from his family

Only lies were the words he would say

I begged and I pleaded for it to stop, on one occasion I had to call the cops

He became violent when money was withheld from his reach and in front of our children I was beat

I feared he would kill me if I ever tried to leave but with things looking so grim I chose to tell him

I was moving on and with blade drawn, he faced it at self, pierced through skin and killed himself 

I felt in those final moments he had crushed clouds in clenched fists

Held them up to his lips, kissed them goodbye from my sky 

Opened my world up to endless blue

Possibilities all new

He knew it was the only way to say, "Tara, I Love You" 

He did it for me, so I could finally be free Suicide is often called a selfish act

But this was his way of expressing the purest of love 

Something he always found to be so very tough