What I Didn’t Expect

Here it is. “Valentine’s Day.” A day I was sooooo against celebrating, until this man. You see, John and I had the type of relationship that would almost make you want to vomit. Disney fairy tale, mushy, yucky, cute af, all that good stuff. When I tell you I’m the absolute LAST person on the planet to act like that, I mean it. Looking at this picture brought me back to my innocent days. The days before I knew what real pain was. The days before my entire world was torn apart. What I’d give for one more! Like myself, John didn’t have the best family history. I thought we could relate, but I soon found out his bypassed mine by a landslide. That’ll come out in my book. At this point, I feel like that’s what he would have wanted due to what came after his death. There’s obviously quite a bit that followed after his death and some always will. However, as much as I’ve gotten accustomed to it and realized it’s “the norm,” not once did it ever cross my mind at the time I would be blamed for this. Boy was I WRONG!

I’m not going into graphic detail here, but let me start by saying I did more than everything for months to try and stop this. I have quite a few witnesses to that, and until August 1, 2018, I was successful. An absolute wreck, but successful. See, now that I’ve had time to grow from this (in both good and not so good ways), I’m able to see where a few were coming from. Knowing John from working at the casino, hanging out after, seeing how full of life he was, how happy he seemed, and so on, I would have never thought in ten million years he would have killed himself. Here’s a few things you may not have known. He had been gone from the casino for almost a year. He had been out of the military for nine months. Then lastly, the biggest thing most didn’t know is his mom died less than five months before he did. That’s when everything started. You know, there’s really truth in the saying, “You never know what’s going on behind closed doors.” Maybe keep that in mind for the next time this happens to someone else, and it will.

See, social media is not real life. I go look from time to time at his Facebook, and literally the day before he was posting funny memes on my timeline. What I didn’t expect came from what you didn’t know. You didn’t know, because we didn’t broadcast it. What do you expect? Facebook check-ins at psychiatric units? Updates on several hours of hostage situations? I can see it now, “Just hoping he doesn’t see me texting help, gun, suicide, 911, please, hurry, etc. to our neighbors and close friends.” Which I still have to say thank you again to all who did. You know who you are. I can’t thank you enough. I’m not including anymore situations here. I kept quiet for so long out of respect for him, but at this point I don’t see why he’d want me to. After so much hate mail, death threats, horrible things said to me and about me, and my downward spiral. One specific message I remember off hand (there were SO many) was an extremely long, hateful message with an ending of, “Why don’t you do us all a favor and blow your brains out too?” So sweet, isn’t it?

This changed everything about me. If you could have hung out with me for a day three years ago, then hang out with me for a day now, you wouldn’t know what to think. I always say looking back is just like watching a scary movie. There’s no way that all really happened. Then there are times here and there where I look back and realize yes, that did really happen. It was a terrible thing. Life isn’t fair, and it never will be. The sooner you realize that, the better. You deal the hand you’re given. Most of the time, you can’t control what happens to you, but you can control how you respond to it. You can let it teach you. That doesn’t mean don’t let it hurt. This will always hurt, just in different stages. I grew from it. I’m a better person because of it. I truly believe everything happens for a reason. I may never understand a good bit of that, but what can you do?

I don’t believe grief ever truly goes away. I think your coping skills just go through the roof. There are still times where it’s just as raw, but I react differently now. Sure, I may cry a bit, then go about my day. The reasoning behind that for me is there comes a point in time after the death of a loved one, no matter how they passed, you realize no matter how much you scream, cry, beg, break things (including your hand and wrist from punching a wall in a rage), they’re still not coming back. You have to find a way to live with that. It will be hard as f**k, but do you really think they’d want to see you so miserable and hurting all the time? I know that’s the last thing John would have wanted. Some things just aren’t meant to be no matter how perfect they may seem. Hopefully, some day we’ll all get to understand the reasons why.