I feel like a lot of people know of my story...but don't know the details and the facts of what happened to me in my life back in 2009.
I have previously deleted all my entries from this old dusty blog that I am trying to rediscover as a way of free at home self medicating therapy for myself. My past entries were so juvenile and not realistic at all. It's time for me to get things off my chest whenever I want to, and I feel like this will be an excellent medium to do so. Read if you want, if you are tired of me, I won't hold it against you. I'm primarly doing this for me, and hopefully for anyone else who just needs someone to connect to.
I love you. Whoever you are reading this.
My life ended on February 19th 2009 in a small studio apartment in New York City, and yet I am still here today to write this, in 2013.
I was getting ready for work, it was about 5:30am or so in the morning, and my cell phone started ringing.
The days leading up to February 19th were a bit stressful and worrisome. I was dating a magnificent man named Chris, and he was my world, as I was his. We were going to get married. We had already planned it all. We were going to move back to Oregon. The field biologist and the marine biologist. Live simply and just fill our home with love.
Heavenly.
We had a long distance relationship, even though we lived in the same state, he lived in upstate and I was in Brooklyn. The East Coast tends to melt together like that. Seemingly short distances on a map end up taking hours and hours to navigate through.
Chris and I had a pact- to talk to each other every single day. To some people that may seem excessive and ridiculous. For our relationship it was not only perfect, but needed. A daily "check up" on each other, to let the other one know that even through the distance, we were still there for one another. It's beautiful how a phone can make hundreds of miles feel like a few inches. Communication is key to any kind of relationship, and our communication was open, selfless, non judgemental, and wonderful.
February 19th 2009 at 5:30am, I was worried upon waking up, because the night before I hadn't been able to get a hold of Chris on the phone or through email. The first day we had "missed" in 4+ months. I knew he was really busy with school though and I chalked it up to either studying or going out with friends and just falling asleep. Or so I hoped and prayed.
Without going into too much detail since afterall, it is his personal life, and this isn't his blog, but mine...Chris had a really rough past, and like all of us, sometimes the daily grind just wears on you and a past that is never resolved properly, creeps up on you often and drags you down a bit. Chris was going to therapy (after I begged him to for months) and a few days prior when we were talking on the phone, he had an especially difficult therapy session that caused a major upwelling of emotions and memories that were previously suppressed. He was crying on the phone, which, for a man that is 6'5" with a very masculine build, with a laugh that could cure sickness, this was troublesome. We talked for hours, and eventually he calmed down and we said our "talk to you tomorrow's" and "i love you's", and life continued on.
February 19th 2009 at 5:30am, my phone rang. I grabbed it quickly trying to quiet the ring since my friend who shared the tiny studio apartment with me was sleeping. I checked the caller ID and it read "My Pumpkin" on the screen. An overwhelming sense of calm swept over me, THERE he was, phew, he's ok, maybe he's just stumbling back home after a long night.
I answered the phone and rather than hearing the love of my life's big warm voice, I was met with a woman's voice.
My stomach sank.
Who is this, and why is she using Chris's phone to call me?
I said hello again.
And what this woman said to me, in three small words, ended my life as I will ever know it.
"Chris is dead."
Blackness, no breath, screaming, falling, hitting the hard wooden floor, melting, dizzy, still can't breathe, why can't I breathe, why can't I see anything?
"We found him this morning, he committed suicide in his apartment."
Darker than black, numb, dizzy, nauseous, screaming, no blood in my body, shaking, still no breath.
4 years have passed, and I still can't think about those few moments after I found out. Typing it alone is extremely difficult, and my makeup is now all over my face. You never forget the feeling of having the life completely pulled out of your body in a split second. You carry it with you for the rest of your life. It never gets easier, you just learn to adapt and cope.
I'm going to take a break from writing right now, talking about this and going through the motions of this moment all over again are extremely painful for me. I'll pick back up on this post at another time. I'm sorry.
One last thing though...days later when I started to come out of my shock (I really don't remember anything but little snap shots in my mind, for about 3 days after February 19th) I found a text message on my phone that I realized I had never opened, from Chris...the night he committed suicide. After eventually lining up the timeline of his suicide with friends and family, it was put together that this was the last thing he had ever said to anyone.
"My beautiful Jamie, thank you for loving me more than I ever thought possible. I will always be yours. I will love you today, tomorrow, and every day after that."
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