Day Three - The Day My Life Started Over

I know I got in bed on that Saturday night. I don't know why I bothered. Who in the world could turn their brain off? Honestly it was in the following two months that the idea of using a drug or drinking sounded like bliss. How, even for an hour or two, I could forget everything. But that is not who I am.

I did not sleep and sometime in the night I decided to check out a few places that I knew he gravitated towards. I drove around the quiet city realizing how crazy the behavior was. Normal people don't do this. Normal people have dinner, watch TV, dine with friends, visit grandkids, feel happy or lonely, but now are peacefully sleeping. Only crazy people drive around a city and look for someone that doesn't want to be found.

Somewhere around 4:30 I found him. He was at his office. I parked and walked around the building, the night air chilling my tense body. I saw him in the window. He was at his desk, clearly agitated. Making phone calls, looking on his computer, repeatedly running his hands through his hair. I go back to my car to think. He is safe....should I go home and back to bed? Should I knock on the door and get him to come home? I've no idea!!!  When one is in a crazy situation, it is hard to think logically. Around 5:00 or 6:00, after wracking my brain and not coming up with a decent answer, I get a hold of my kids (except for the one that was in Germany on an exchange). All three come down and we talk. If we knock on the door and he comes out, we could all go home and continue down the rocky road we've become accustom to. If we knock and he doesn't, we all know that he owns guns and that he has been threatening to hurt himself. If we call the police, he will lose his job for sure.

Two of us stand at the window where we can see him. Two go knock on the door. The man hears and and freaks out! He shoves stuff around on his desk and runs out of the room to a place where we can no longer see him. Crazy texts begin again. Eventually, we all agree to call the police.

To say it went badly is an understatement. Eventually my children's father ended up on top of the building with us, the SWAT Team, his employer and every person who thinks it is exciting or fun to watch someones life fall apart, watching. He's blaming me and I get it. I made the wrong choice but all choices were wrong.

No one was hurt....at least not physically.

Admittedly, the insanity kept going for quite some time after they talked this poor sick man came off the rooftop. It wasn't until we (the kids and I) started getting well that any craziness that took place was mostly his. We are learning, to the best of our ability, to allow him to own that. Not perfectly but better.

Tomorrow I will try to summarize what came after the bottom. Well, after my bottom....that is the only story I have to tell. Everyone else involved have their own story. Someday I would love to hear them tell it from their point of view although I am sure it would be a painful thing to do.

It didn't feel like a new beginning. It only felt like a horrible ending, like nothing good would ever happen again. But it was and the fact that I am sitting here typing and feeling pretty content with life is proof of that.