I am completely unsure of how to begin this story. To some, it may be hard to read. To others, maybe it will make you feel less alone.
I met Blake March 16, 2006. A mutual friend had set us up on a blind date...which I DREADED the thought of. We were smitten from the moment we met...as horribly corny as that sounds. Very quickly I saw him as someone I could spend my life with. We talked of marriage...we wanted kids...we wanted our lives to be rich and full and we wanted each other. We grew to be inseparable and though I saw warning signs of demons, I thought I could fix it....I could help him...he would get better. By 2008 his drinking became an unbearable thing for me. He would begin drinking the moment we got home from work and still be drunk the next morning on the way to work. He abused me verbally, emotionally and physically while drunk. Once he sobered up he swore he felt terrible and even went as far as to act as if I were making it up. I hid it all from my family, my friends, my co-workers...I didn't want them to know how things truly were. I tried to act as if things were fine...I was fine...he was fine... I rationalized it in my mind that he wasn't like that when he was sober...but sober was quickly becoming a thing of the past.
December 20, 2008....What I thought was rock bottom....We are at our company's annual Christmas party and by the time we leave to head home he is completely intoxicated. On our way home he begins screaming at me, swearing to do harm to me, I'm terrified to stop the car....I'm terrified to keep going with him so out of control....I try to use my cell phone to call for help....he steals it away from me...snaps his in half....I have no idea what to do but to try to get home. I'm a few miles from home on the parkway doing about 70.....as he pulls the e-brake and we spin through both lanes in complete circles and finally come to land in a ditch.
The next day he swears he's going to stop drinking...to fix my car...to do right by me...to stop the horrible spiral....but he doesn't.
January 22, 2009....He's out drinking again. He came stumbling home, couldn't even stand up...laughing at me crying...
January 23, 2009....5am...I hear him get up and rustle around. I figure he is going out to smoke. He also had a tendency to sleepwalk, so I always stayed awake to make sure he came back to bed and didn't fall back asleep outside...which had happened numerous times.
I hear a loud bang....followed by a loud thud. I ran outside and saw him lying at the end of the carport as a pool of blood surrounded him. I shook him to try to get him to respond...begging him to...begging him to open his eyes. I ran screaming into the house to wake my parents and as I ran back out to the man I loved, I was calling 911....screaming for them to hurry as my father tried to find a pulse...and as my father slowly took the phone away from me I feel to the ground...he was gone...and I knew it. I heard my father tell the operator that he was gone...as I screamed from the floor.
I can't remember much of what happened next. They wouldn't let me outside to be with him...they made me stay inside the house while the detectives, coroner and police did what they had to do. They wouldn't let me call anyone because it was considered a crime scene...they wouldn't let anyone on the property.
I remember laying in the floor dry-heaving....having panic attacks....as the detective came in and checked my hands for gunshot residue. There was no note...there was nothing...just him...gone. The detective told me I was lucky to be alive and I remember staring at him. He explained that in a circumstance such as this was, they usually take someone with them. I felt guilty for a long time, not getting up to go outside and check on him...not asking what he was doing before he went outside...not realizing the rustling was him getting his pistol. As time has gone by I have to believe I am meant to be here because so easily...so many times...I could have been gone along with him. Although believe me there were days so painful that I wished I were.
I remember them finally giving the clear for me to call people and for people to be allowed back on our property...and my best friends rushing over to be with me. After awhile, I just wanted out. I wanted away from our memories, away from seeing everything that reminded me of him, away from seeing the place where he died...so we got ready to go to my sister's house. As I walked outside I remember my Uncle who had driven from Murray as soon as he heard....he held me and tried to say things to comfort me....it's one of the very few times I've seen that man cry. One of my best friends dropped everything and drove straight here from Ohio....they all sat with me and did what they could. Begged me to drink, begged me to eat....I couldn't do either.
The next day we had to plan the funeral. I took his clothes...the ones he would have wanted...his jeans, boots, and a Chevy tee he wore constantly....and his camo ball cap. I had made a cd of pictures of us...my favorite pictures of him....picked out the coffin....a dark green with deer on the corners. Planned the music..."A Country Boy Can Survive" by Hank Jr. He would have been proud of that. Before we left, I told Tim, the funeral home director and friend of the family, that I had to see him...I had to say goodbye....on my own...alone. They tried to tell me he wasn't ready yet, that he "looked pretty rough" and was bruised and swollen. I didn't care. I had to see my baby one last time. I had to say goodbye. I went back into the cold room where he lay...as I said my goodbyes I held his hand...and couldn't believe that this was the last time we would ever be alone.
The funeral was a blur. His family all hated me for his death...as if I wouldn't have stopped him if I could have. His mother yells at me in the middle of visitation. A few members of my own family that he had been close with even acted as if it were my fault. I was so lost. The man I had spent three years with, the man I had hoped to spend my entire life with, got lost on a horrible spiral and was now gone.
We buried him the day the ice storm of '09 hit. Some say it was a blessing in disguise...I'm still not sure. I think things were SO bad that once we had power, once I had communication again, maybe that was some glimmer of hope to life.
I had lost my world...my entire world...and I had no idea what to do...or how to begin living again. All I wanted to do was to go into a dark hole forever....go to sleep and never wake up.
