The Real Beginning

 This blog is here because I need a place to get all of this crap out before it builds up enough pressure to kill me. I feel like a freak, a monster and someone who is soo cursed by everything that I fear I destroy everyone I touch. If you think I am being melodramatic, I have had 2 spouses die in less than 2 years. My last husband hung himself on August 7th. My previous husband died of Covid related heart failure on February 21st of 2020. I don't even know how to begin to put all of this back together. I know I broke Austins heart, and I wasn't trying to. I was trying to get him to see the light and understand I was making us a better life even if it meant breaking up a little. I didn't want a divorce, but he thought it was the natural progression of me leaving for Portland. It wasn't. If you look in my apartment up here, you would see in everything that it was for him. The location in the bougie side of Hillsboro, the fancy apartment with the huge bathtub and the big kitchen. The proximity to Starbucks and good restaurants as well as shopping. It was all a means to an end for getting him to move here. I am even across the street from a hospital. I work for a company that would have provided him great insurance that I could afford.

Austin was a person who had lived in his own private hell for 10 years. He suffered pain as a result of a motorcycle accident and it was causing a myriad of other side effects including incontinence, erectile dysfunction and loss of sensation in some places, and screaming pain in others. There were days he could not get out of bed, but there were also days when he was funny and loving and creative. He was trying to pull his life together, and I thought I could motivate him to try a different location where he would be closer to his sister, and there would be more resources for his medical needs. He was just as stubborn as I am and he said he was staying in Tucson. It hurt, and I worried about him, but I thought that by paying his rent and promising to pay the next months and help him as much as he needed, he would be okay. I talked to him every day, I texted him pictures, I posted to his FB, I tried every day to change his mind. 

He was two different people in reality. On social media he was a bright and shiny star with a huge following on TikTok and Instagram and he was boisterous, and outgoing, but in reality, he was in a dark place and bitter and spiraling down. All I wanted to do was pull him up. I failed.