So, I replied to Oceans post, and went back through the home page and saw that there were 4 years worth or threads on the one page. Four years!
Then I started going through the posts that appear on the home page... I noticed that I mentioned my husbands death and then that was it. That was 2 and a half years ago. crazy.
I don't check very often.
I decided to start a new thread, I figured I owed it you you guys to explain what happened with my late husband.
He was in his last rehab and ended up getting kicked out for drinking (unbeknownst to me at the time). Things were really on edge with us, it seemed like our marriage was in she shitter, it wasn't, it was 'tough love', the thing everyone talked about... the "grand solution" to his problems. I was very very angry with him. Tired, sick and angry. One weekend, it was his weekend to have our boy, he picked him up from the train station near my house and I noticed he'd been drinking, I was so angry, so so so angry. He was meant to be 100% clean. He denied it of course and I just said goodbye to my boy and turned around and walked away, I could tell Mat was disappointed that I didn't say goodbye to him. That was the last time I ever saw him. I still cry about that moment. If only I had known that was the last time I would see him... I would have held him so tight and told him how much I loved him. Instead I said goodbye to our son and walked away, without even making eye contact with him, no goodbye, nothing. It hurts. It was the last time I saw him - alive.
Anyway, so he was looking after him 90 minutes north where his family lives. His family found out that he had done something bad, ripped off his family in the most hurtful way. He was staying at his parents at the time and they told him to leave. He said goodbye to our boy and left. He ended up going to his Aunties place. There was his auntie and uncle and his cousins there so he had a good night with them. He didn't touch one drop of alcohol.
The next morning his uncle went out for a surf and everyone was out at work. When his uncle came home he found him. Mat hung himself.
I still remember, it was a Sunday; the afternoon I think. I had a phone call from my father in law. I still remember the conversation, I still remember the exact words he stumbled over, the tones of his voice, where I was standing, the direction I was looking.
Hello
*Hi Ell, I have some bad news, Mathew committed suicide this morning*
*What?*
He told me that my brother in law was on the way down to pick me up. He told me to wait. He said goodbye and hung up the phone. I crashed to my kitchen floor screaming. It was horrible. It was the most horrible feeling in the world. All I remember thinking is "what do I do? What do I do?". I called my friend who lives on the other side of the country, sure made her afternoon interesting to say the least. She was mortified, poor thing, didn't know what to say, what do you say? I just needed to get it out and scream and cry, I was all alone in my house. I don't remember that conversation so much. Then I called my mum, I told her. I remember asking her what should I do. I don't know what the answer was or why I was asking. Or even what the question was. It was just all I could say.
My brother in law came, picked me up and took me up the coast. I got to my inlaws house, cried and drank a lot. we all drank a lot.
That night, I had a dream, I remember parts so clearly. In my dream the whole day happened, and then he turned up, and it was all a lie, and I remember being so so angry at him for making me think that he had done that, making me grieve for him when he hadn't really gone and I remember slapping him, and then I woke up and cried some more.
The whole week was a blur. I drank a lot. We all drank a lot. He did it on Sunday, and the funeral was on the Friday, Friday the 13th. He would have liked that. On the Thursday (I think) I went to a viewing. I had been debating if I should go to a viewing or not. I knew if I didn't go that I would regret it, it was the only way for it to feel real, the only way I could really say goodbye. I remember walking in the room, I was shaking as we entered the building, I was told to go in first, I turned the corner to walk through the door of the room he was in, saw one glimpse of him and crashed to the ground screaming and crying. I was there for a long time, screaming and crying. The funeral directors didn't know what to do. Eventually I pulled my shit together and got up and went and saw him. It was horrible. I am never ever ever going to a viewing ever ever ever again. I am glad I went but never again. His lips were blue and he was cold. so so cold. it didn't look like he was sleeping, it looked like he was dead. there was just no life in his face. I could see the mark on his neck. I held his hands. I hugged him. I kissed his lips. I gave him a beer that I took from his dad's fridge. A drawing our boy had done. A letter I wrote and his mobile phone. They told me I had to say goodbye, it was time to go. I wanted to stay there forever but I couldn't.
I wrote the Eulogy, with help from his family. I made a montage of all his photos and picked all the music for the funeral. Opening song was Red Hot Chilli Peppers - Zephyr, the songs on the montage was Bernard Fanning - Watch Over Me (which was Harley's baptism song and our wedding song) and Stone Temple Pilots - Plush (acoustic version) and the closing song - where they carry out the coffin was Foo Fighters - Home. Home was the most appropriate song. I remember talking to Mat about that moment (we were morbid like that) and telling him I'd have "My Hero" but when I listened to Home it fit perfectly, all he ever really wanted to be is home with me and our boy. I read the Eulogy. It wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be, I am pretty good with public speaking and I held myself together, it was a good Eulogy, there were laughs and tears from the few hundred people that were there (bad news travels fast apparently, we only told a few people, seems like everyone he had ever met was there.... if only he knew that all those people came). The whole funeral was a blur. Our boy was pretty funny, running around the alter, sitting in the priest's chair and causing mischief. I let him go, it brought smiles to peoples faces. Mat would have loved it.
After that was the burial. That was even more of a blur. the only thing I really remember is crashing to the ground (again) screaming and crying (again) as I dropped a flower onto his coffin. it was horrible.
Then the wake. At the wake I put my mask back on, pretended nothing had happened. I drank a lot. I regret acting like nothing had happened. I wish I just hid in a room til most people went home. Towards the end of the night, only the people who truly mattered were left and we sat around in the yard with guitars, drinking beer and singing songs. it was good.
I went home on the Sunday. Exactly a week after it had happened.
On the Monday I went to uni. This all happened in my second week of my first semester in my first year of uni. I went back because I knew if I didn't that I would go into a deeper darker place and I'd need to take my mind off things. I remember people in my class asking where I had been that week, I ignored them until eventually at the end of the day one of them jokingly said "where have you been you slacker", I told them my husband passed away. they were mortified.
and here I am now. 2 years, 4 months and 2 weeks later. I am pretty happy these days, I;ve got a great bunch of friends which I have never really had in my life. They have pulled me out of really dark places. No one really talks about it, I'm pretty sure most of them still don't know what happened, actually I am sure only a couple of them do. No one has asked...
I'm still grieving I guess. I have accepted what happened. I was angry for a very long time, and then I was numb, like it never happened, I think I went about a year without crying. But as time passes I find myself missing him more and more. I didn't think it would happen like that, I thought that every day would get better, until it didn't hurt any more. It doesn't work like that. I still cry when I realise how lonely I am, or when by boy cries for his daddy, or when I become fed up with life and become angry at leaving me in the situation that I am in. People give me the impression that I should be over it. I should get on with life and forget it happened. That I shouldn't still be upset about it because it's been just over 2 years now.
I miss him. I really really really miss him. I'd do anything just to see him one last time. To hold him. To kiss him. To say I am sorry and tell him how much I love him.
I really didn't expect to write that much. Although that's probably the most I have ever written on what happened. I've written poems and stuff, especially for the anniversary of his death, his birthday and our boys birthday. It's actually Mats birthday next Thursday, 28th of July. hmmm.
I'm going to leave it at that. it's not what I expected to write, especially here, I mean no one really comes here anymore, I know a few of you check every now and then, no one will probably read this for a few months judging by how often people post. I don't mind... I mean, I probably wont check in a long time either. We all have out lives now, whether it's still in the grasp of out dark places, on the road to the light (the happy one, hopefully not the death one) or free from the clutches of the hell that brought us all together.
I wish you all well, and hope there is much happiness in your lives.
xxxxx
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x ¢¾ E
Down In A Hole And They've Put All
The Stones In Their Place
I've Eaten The Sun So My Tongue
Has Been Burned Of The Taste
I Have Been Guilty
Of Kicking Myself In The Teeth
I Will Speak No More
Of My Feelings Beneath
~
Down In A Hole - Alice In Chains
