No more please!!

So many unknowns, so many questions.  I wish I knew the truth. So many stories, from many people... I know what kris and Joey told me, fuck I know what the doctors told me...

For three years, I've been left wondering what if.  If only I knew the truth, about the fateful event.
If I only knew, and got help.  I try to not think about it....

After Saturday, I'm done. It's fucking done. If I want to truly live. I just need to close it off.  It secretly hurts me, every motherfucking time I fall. Every time I want to chase the kids, or I'm stuck and have to wait for help.

The last thing I remember was dropping acid. I don't even remember tripping. I was told we shot Molly and Heroin. My very last thought, "everyone would be better off, if I was dead."
That was on February 13, 2011.

Next thing I know, it's February 22, 2011. I woke up in Harrisburg Hospital, feeling like absolute shit.  I was oblivious. I thought I was in Hell.  That's when I realized my speech was fucked. I couldn't do anything for myself, I was SO thirsty.  Dignity and freedom gone. I hurt, felt like I was run over by a bus. Kris was there when I woke up....immediately feeding me bullshit lies. But I wanted to believe him, after all I loved him.  I was told I'd never walk again.

I accepted my fate. After all, I was lucky to be alive. I should have been dead.  I was a piece of shit junkie, horrible mother, all round horrible person. I hated myself, I was a monster. I deserved the hell I created.  I was in a really dark place.

Then I got clean. I quit mourning the life I lost, quit feeling sorry for myself.

On February 15, 2012 the 1 year anniversary came. I laid in my bed, I was in my head.  I remember looking at the clock...9:30 am... Kris asked, "what are you thinking?"

My response, "at this time last year I was in the hospital. It's been a year."

He replies, "actually, you were in the bathtub until around noon."

I didn't say a word. It didn't add up. He told me he found me at 5:30 am. I know he didn't call 911.  He told me over and over, he panicked.... I didn't question it, the way I should have, I didn't know if I was ready for the answers.

He held me, told me it was ok to cry. The ENTIRE year, I didn't. I held it together. That day I bawled for an hour. Sobbing, gut wrenching sobs, tears poured off my face. I didn't feel better. I wished it helped.  It didn't make sense, over 6 hours I was in the bathtub.

My monsters seen me. Every once in a while Shannon still asks, "Mommy why were you sleeping in the bathtub?" I was dying in that bathtub. My vitals were unbelievable when Joey made him help me.  But any time I question why, kris claimed anxiety.

 Over time, things slipped out of kris' mouth, "I need you in my life, I can't live with myself knowing what I did to you." What the fuck you did to me, what did you do?  I though you freaked, that's an honest mistake, I've forgiven him for that..

He started emotionally abusing me. Telling me how pathetic I was, saying how he regrets staying, and he should have just left me, he should put me back in the nursing home...
I got the feeling, he wanted me dead. He was a monster. I spent the next year trying to make sense... It's impossible.

Then on February 22, 2013, I almost died again from an asthma attack. As everything went grey, I was suffocating slowly. He refused to call 911. Joey did, and in the meantime he rubbed my back, "don't worry babe it will all be over soon." He didn't visit me until the day I was coming home, and he came to the hospital to fight and went to his moms the weekend after I came home....

He broke me.

November 9, 2013 I did my first suspension. It changed my life, giving me power to believe in myself, ultimately helping me to decide to get him out of my life.

You can't change the past. I'll never get the full answer, so on February 15, 2014 I'm suspending again. I'm celebrating the life I have left, and letting go of the nightmare I lived. I'm so fucking ready to truly live.