Brian's Last Journal Entry

I think Brian knew he was done fighting for his life anymore. He did not intentionally kill himself, but I think he just knew, somehow, he was done. That the end was near.

Imagine how devastated I was to open up his journal after his passing and finding this last entry. I couldn't respond. I wish I had read it and could have told him to hold on. I wish I could have told him that our love was not faithless and "divorced" was something we would never be.

Then again I did not give him much faith, when out of my own rage, made him believe we could possibly be done, and throwing divorce in his face out of anger, even though I didn't actually mean the words. I cast him out, just 13 days later from the date of this letter, his own silent torment. I could not bring myself to watch as he would throw away everything we had worked so hard for, to be for nothing, on a relapse. I didn't give him enough to believe with and hold onto. I just held onto my own hope that he would see. That he would know that I would never truly turn my back on him.

I just wanted him to understand I was serious about his sobriety, but it was not MY sobriety to manage. Tough love... What a joke! Ultimatums are not the answer. Telling him to choose between me or his drugs, his family or his drugs! It's not that simple, no matter what we think we might know. We don't understand.

We should have gotten help, we should have been honest with the counselor and opened up about the battles--his with addiction, and mine being married to someone with addiction. Instead I was left with a letter, a journal entry. I was too wrapped up in my own pain to see his was destroying him. I knew he was hurting and I was too. But, I didn't have to fight against an addiction in the middle of this nightmare we found ourselves in...

Who knew that 18 days later this would be the letter that prophesied his death?

Tuesday
March 08,
2016

New beginnings and fresh starts rarely leave suicide notes detailing broken hearts. It seems behind is the only place to leave the past if a future life is intended to last. For rear view mirrors you have no need. Why ever look back once you have taken the lead. Always remember that in reverse, back is the only direction to go and who buys tickets and travels just to miss the show? Granted that no one can foretell what their new future holds. It just seems unbeneficial to those who ask to be dealt in their folds. Almost certain that new lives are only sought after old ones burn and yet still for it will always be these new lives are only sought after old ones burn yet still for it will always be these lives we wish to return. So does it matter if new beginnings are sought or forced maybe if these beginnings solely stem from faithless love divorced. Either which way fresh starts can be a blessing or a curse. I imagine that they can be both always ending with the same slow ride in the back of a hearse. With such calming realities of an equal end across the board. It seems rather difficult to justify anyone's painful memory hoard. But without the memories of left lives before how is it possible to ever feel secure with the decision to close the door. Guess I'll soon know and see, I wonder what I'll allow this next life to be.
                                                                                                                                  - Brian Wright

Last letter from Brian

The last letters Brian ever wrote me was so heart breaking. I read it over and over again, mostly because I need to hear the part where he tells me he loves me. I just wish he understood how much I love him.

The back story to this letter he wrote me:

We had gotten into a fight when I got a phone call to come and pick up the Consent Decree for his daughter, that would outline all of the allegations made by DFS and his daughter, who I once too believed was mine. I was forewarned that the report was going to be brutal and I was even encouraged to reconsider allowing her back into our home, because they were concerned if she came back that the allegations would only get worse.

The report I had read was horrendous I cried the entire time I was reading it but I could not put it down. I kept reading it over and over again, with tears streaming down my face. I looked to my husband lost not knowing what to do from here. I asked if we should just let her go with her mom, or maybe if we should consider a sort of reform school. The advice I had gotten terrified me. They said "What if she next lies and says one of your boys touched her? Kristie think about how far she is willing to go here with all of these lies. They won't stop. They will only get worse, she is setting out to destroy you. Do you want to lose your kids while she is on the road of destruction."

I was ridden with fear! The report I read, was accusing me of abuse as well. The things that were listed in that report were heartbreaking to read! I was terrified that after all these years of protecting my children, what if this person's advice was right and I suddenly would not be able to protect my own children. Yet, I was torn with the love I had for this little girl.

Brian became so angry at my fears, and so angry at what was in that report, that after hours of me sitting there sobbing, he ripped the paper out of my hands and said "Stop looking at that, it's no longer your problem!" He practically spit the words at me.

This set me off in a rage! How was it NOT my problem. I yelled at him that it was every bit my problem. She was my daughter and I loved her and she was rejecting me! She was rejecting ME! I was so hurt by her report, so hurt by his words. I took all my wedding stuff off the wall and said this is how he feels about our family. This is where I stand. A worthless hated step mother and wife. (I took the wedding stuff down every time I was throwing a baby tantrum).

After screaming at him I went upstairs and laid in bed with my daughter and cried. He came to the door and told me to come to bed with him. He wasn't polite about it, and I was still so angry at him for what he had said I told him no.

I slept that night with my daughter, then went to work, and avoided coming home for lunch. I still was not prepared to see him. I didn't know what I was to expect from him if I had come home. Would we fight? I didn't want to fight. I was tired of hurting so much at this point. This case had been ruling our life for the past three months and all there was left was tears and heartache every single day.

When I got home from work that evening I came down to my room and saw this letter written on a used piece of paper lying on my pillow:

Tuesday
03/08/16

Kristie                                                                    
        I love you. Not worth the used paper it is written on. I need you. Not much in reasons for you to want to come home or even sleep in the bed. Your home, your bed I said I will leave. You would like that and who wouldn't? I have children, one I told, we are a combo that I refused to split, only days later, clearly a combo I mistakingly allowed faith to believe existed. I foolishly hold strong to values that appear dead to others. Children I hate still deserve a world not poluted, and the children I love a world absent of me. As well as the women who regret our meeting entirely. I deserve more punishment than this life has time to offer me and the time you waste that in no way belongs to you could be saved. Spent more productively on children who deserve more than the pain that swallows the little time they have. Our wedding might serve as a decoration for your mood but remains for
me the single greatest moment allowed me since mmy arrival here. All the truth you attempt to conceal is the one savior for the hopes and possibilities we all deserve. Your freedom and the children's rite to a life without negativity is as attainable as a short to the point conversation filled only with hidden truth and actual desires laid out. With the only consequence of such a discussion leaving everyone getting what they want and me getting exactly what I deserve admitting that the love of your children and the heart you protect I never deserved in the first place. I can promise you that between telling me to leave and telling me the truth you'll find that the truth only you know can deliver the results you want without impacting the worthless love I have for you and your children. My heart and manhood are small and useless but belong to you none the less so please I beg you to do as you wish to both. But please don't leave them alone in a home they're not wanted with a woman that is tired of both. I will always love you.
                                                                                                                                 - Brian

I wrote him a letter back, which he threw away. Telling him that no I loved him. That he deserved the best a wife could give him. That he always deserved the best. I told him he was a wonderful father and how blessed we were to have had him in our lives, and my children to have had him as their father. 

I went upstairs and laid on his chest and told him I was sorry and that I loved him. He asked why I didn't come home for lunch and I said "because I don't want to fight anymore". We had scheduled an appointment with Sky with every determination to throw out the consent decree so that those bogus reports could not be used against us at a later date. He had convinced us not to go to trial, telling us just to do everything asked and anytime she acted up once brought back into the home, we would just call DFS, since they created this problem we were going to allow them to handle it. 

This gave me renewed fight to keep going. Now that I had a solution in place I felt like it was time for us to regroup and do what needed done... Unfortunately my husband did not feel the same way. He was still very tired, and his fight would only get worse over the next few days... He got lost, he started giving up, and no amount of fight I had in me was bringing him back... 

He loved me...

I was walking past the old Radio Shack the other day and suddenly I just stopped. I have walked past that door several times over the months and not once did I feel this sudden urge to stop there like I did on this day for no particular reason...

I stared at the door for awhile with flash backs to the first day I met Brian. It was this door he had walked through. I was in the middle of the store with my coworker, in what we called the "bull pen", and I turned around as the door opened, and in walked this man. My heart stopped as I watched him walk through that door, and saunter toward me at my work station. There was no other customers in the store, just him... I remember exactly what he was wearing that day.

I don't quite know what came over me. I never had that reaction toward anyone else in my life! I couldn't think, I could barely even function. He was not the most gorgeous man I had ever seen in my life, but he was DAMN fine!!! I couldn't understand why I reacted this way to him, it was as though no one else in the world existed. Years later I think I can sum it up to love at first sight, it just took me awhile to succumb to my true feelings.

I am not sure what he saw in me. He was gorgeous. He had everything going for him and yet he continued coming back through that door everyday to buy some stupid little gadget, or have me fix something on his phone, or plan. He was there everyday! It took time before I finally broke and told him he had to stop coming into the store. When he asked why, I looked at him like he was stupid and said "because I can't think when you are around! I have the biggest crush on you"! He laughed and told me to shut up.

Later that night he came to the theater I was working at whenever they needed me, to watch a movie. He invited me up to watch with him, and his friends. We spent the entire time talking. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that it appeared that he was flirting with me. I was so fat, I had four kids, I was trying to get out of an unhappy marriage. Who in their right mind would ever be attracted to me? He was... For some reason, he was attracted to me.

For two years we carried on a friendship that also included benefits from time to time. I was always jealous of other girls that would come along, or if I saw him flirting or looking at other girls. He didn't know that I was eaten up with jealousy. I had no claim to him. I was still dealing with the on again off again with my husband at that time. I think I just always saw him as being mine from the very first time I laid eyes on him.

When I started to lose a mass amount of weight after being so utterly disgusted with my first husband and what he had done to my daughter. He was the only person that did not say a single thing to me. I had lost 80lbs in about three months. It wasn't intentional, I just couldn't eat. I was so disgusted by everything that had happened, that I had married a monster. I just couldn't eat. I would consistently get compliments over how much weight I lost, how good I looked, etc. I actually HATED every time it was brought up. I didn't earn their praises. I did nothing except waste away.

Brian fed me back to life. I am certain that I would have been hospitalized had it not been for Brian. He came to work with me after my ex had been arrested for molesting my daughter. He had made sure I always had water. I would be talking with a customer and he would get my water bottle and fill it and then quietly slip it back into my hand, without gathering attention or interrupting my sale. He would go get food and put it in front of me, not say a single word, just lay it out, with the expectation I would eat. I would sigh with dread looking at the food, but not wanting to be rude, I would pick at it, until eventually he would see I was done, then come gather the rest of the food and eat if for himself.

He never seemed to see my weight. He saw me as a person. He always thought I was beautiful, smart, ambitious and strong woman. He loved everything that made up the person I was. I used to hear nasty remarks from his ex, saying I was only trying to lose weight so that he would love me.  I would hear nasty remarks by her to "eat a cheeseburger" along with her snickers as she passed me by. I never responded. Just kept to myself. Hell I had to endure the fat jokes from my ex while I was married to him over being fat, so nasty remarks concerning my appearance were nothing new for me. What she didn't understand, and what I myself didn't understand, he loved me, for the person I was.

As time went on over the years I developed my taste buds back. I started putting back on the weight. Slowly of course. I started to feel insecure that maybe he would see me how my ex did. That I was just a fat cow. He never did. I would start trying to hide my body, and dress in other rooms. He would always ask me why, and I would bring up my weight and he would tell me how beautiful I was. He actually told me I was too skinny before, and that I had looked almost sick. He liked me being heavier. His only concern was for the weight on my knees, since they were in such bad shape.

Then whenever his other ex wanted to hurt me I would get bashed for my "big nose" and for being so fat and disgusting. I hated hearing these comments. When I would hear them from other people, the first thing I thought about was that this is how my husband sees me. That was all I cared about. I would start crying and he would walk in and get angry about the things she would say to me and then tell me to stop listening to her. He loved me for ME! He thought I was sexy and beautiful. He made me believe it was possible...

Now that he is gone I have lost all desire to feel sexy or beautiful. I have only increased my weight, and my pants fit that much more snug. Sometimes I feel disgusting and wonder if he too is disgusted looking down on me... Strange how even though he is gone, my first thoughts are what he thinks of me.

I will never fully understand and see what he saw in me. I don't know how I got so lucky to have had him for the short amount of time I did. I just know that when I am scrolling through old photos of when we first met, I see how fat I was in my ugly Christmas sweater, and all I can do is smile and think of how hot he thought I was in that hideous thing. That every picture I look at and see as fat and gross, he still loved me. I still had a magical love with this man, that no one can take away from me. He loved me. I will never understand why or how, but he did.

Why?

A friend once told me, while I was in an emotional state, nothing new really, asking "Why?". I was questioning if my husband loved me. If he loved me, then how could he have left me? I am so lost, so confused, so alone...

She told me "I have never understood what it was like to fall in love with an addict until recently." Suddenly she understood why I always stayed with Brian all these years. Why I always fought for Brian, because she too recently fell for an addict.

She told me, she believed fully that he did love me, without question. That maybe, just maybe, he wanted nothing more in this world than to be with me, but he didn't know how to stop hurting me. Dragging me through his constant tug of war with drugs. She told me, "maybe he let go this time because he wanted to find a way to be with you, without hurting you anymore."

Could this be the case? Could he have just finally given up, and let go because he loved me that much? Not just me but our children, his children. So many people judge him and used his drug addiction against him--punishing him. My own frustrations and anger casting him out, because I wasn't strong enough to endure the relapse, not this time. Was he just tired of losing his battle? Feeling completely unwanted, but loving with all that he had--the family that he felt was rejecting him.

I don't know that I would have wanted to live through that myself. Even without battling addiction.

Could he have loved us, all of of us so much that this was the only way? Did he feel it was the only way he could be with all of his children, his wife--was to just let go and live within our hearts, with his spirit, and no longer hurt us?

If so he was wrong! This does not make the pain any less... Though somehow it makes some form of sense in a warped way of thinking.

I would much rather kept fighting with him, and for him. I would have fought and fought for him until the day we both were grey and old--holding onto our love, dying together. Couldn't he have just loved us all enough to keep living? Keep fighting?

But, how exhausting that must have felt. Right now in my own grief, I am beyond exhausted. So how could I in my right mind, and selfishness, say that I don't care how tired he was, he should have held on out of love? I did not endure as much loss and heartache as he had during his lifetime, so who am I to judge? Hell, if I could, I would give up right now. I would find my release from this life to go be with him. No... I can't fault him for being too tired to keep fighting.

I can only hope that what they say is true, that he does live in spirit among us. I can only hope and pray that everything we hear about the the afterlife is true, and that one day, when the time is right, we will truly be joined together, and my soul, and heart will be whole once more.

I love him, now and forever... heart and soul... for the rest of my life.

Maybe it was me...

I lay here unable to sleep. It's 2:12 in the morning--I have to be awake at 6:15. I'm not too sure sleep is going to come tonight for me.

I have so much going through my mind. Thoughts... Crazy thoughts... Plaguing thoughts...

Sunday I went up to the mountain to find my wedding ring that Brian threw out the window during one of his episodes. I'm sure I want to tell that story someday, but that's not what's plaguing my mind right now.

I sat there on the rocks, with the fallen branches, crisp colorful leaves of fall nestled about my feet and thought about that day, and everyday after... I can't help but think did I do this? Was I ultimately the result of this? As tears unleash streaming down my face.

Oh there are plenty of regrets I have, such as wishing I had the calm mild manner to ask him to give me the needle, controlling my anger. But, that's not what has my mind reeling hours before my alarm goes off.

No, what is going through my mind right at this moment is that little girl I had fallen in love with and raised as my own... I hear the haunting laughter of her mothers words when I tried telling her that Alexis did love me, the words that ripped through my heart I once had, "she doesn't love you, she's never loved you. She only ever told you she loved you to get you off her back. She told me herself".

Suddenly everything I had believed to be true, all the love declared, promises made, everything began to unravel... In that moment all I could think about were all the times Brian and I would argue and he would tell me she didn't ever love me. She was playing me, using me. I would defend her, stand up for her and deny that she would do that to me.

I think back on the many times Brian would leave me to go on his little "binges" and he would come around and want to fix things but knowing he messed up by dragging her into it. Suddenly he would pass her off for me to "fix this" like I was the one who did it.

There I would sit across from her on the couch as she glared at me, hate seeping from her. Hatred being back in this house. Hatred that her father loved me enough to want to come back here. I sat across from her telling her that it's not okay for her father to do this to her, to drag her into our fights. I would tell her how much her father and I loved each other and one day she would grow up and be on her own and it will come soon, but her father and I deserved to be loved and happy together, because this right here was the rest of our lives. I would tell her "I will not force myself on you, you do not have to call me mom, you don't even have to talk to me if you don't like. But, I'll still love you, love you like you are my own. I'll still pay for dance lessons, I'll still buy birthday gifts, Christmas gifts, and still be on the sidelines for every single game, every single concert, every single recital. Because I love you". This resulted in her broken down facade and she would cry lunginh into my arms and tell me she loved me and that she wanted me as her mother.

So you see how easy it was for me to believe she really loved me?  I guess that was my own hope, my own desires to not see what was really going on. After her mother laughed at me and told me the truth that was in Alexis's heart, I turned to Brian and with heartbreak in my eyes I said "You were right. You were always right. She didn't love me." He then held me and said "I was only trying to protect you".

Now how does this all come around to being my fault and having me lying here until what is now 2:48 in the morning?

If Brian and I had not fallen in love, maybe just maybe he would still be around... If we had let Alexis win and it go back to just being her and her father then maybe there would have been a chance.

When she was 7 and told me she wanted to move in, be a family, and for us to get married, I was so excited! Excited to give Kiki a sister. Excited to fall in love with this little blond haired mouthy brat, that seemed, from my perspective, to fit right in. Caleb looked up to her following her every whim, as the big sister she became. Kiki learned how to bond and not feel alone in a house full of boys. It just was too good to be true.

My children also gaining a father that they desperately needed in their lives, that role model, their protector to make them feel safe against the outside dangers of the world.

I should have saw the signs, signs I chose to ignore because I was convinced I was different. She would talk about his other exes, in such negative manners saying "oh she would always make things up to get me into trouble with my dad" or "she told my dad every little thing I did just to get me into trouble".. So here I was happy that she loved me--ME! I wouldn't do that. No... I made a point to handle as much of anything I could to keep away from her father do there would be no issues. Talking with her at lengths, formulating solutions. If it were serious enough, or something I couldn't keep from her dad, we would discuss it with him together. He did often have an explosive temper, to the point I would step in and say "that's enough".

No I don't think she ever did love me now. Don't think she ever loved any of us. In spite of Brian's insistence that she in fact did love Kiki. You don't abandon people you love.

Which is I guess irony considering. However, I guess it's not abandoning. I'm not abandoning her. She abandoned us, because she never loved us, so I gave up, threw in the towel, because I don't have any more strength or will power left in me to fight for anything anymore. I fought so hard for her for so long, and the day I lost my husband, was the day I lost all my will and strength to fight for anything anymore.

That night, the final night we spoke--after finding out she had been speaking to a boy in high school about suicide pacts, and love, and discovering she had slipped off to the park to make out with this boy, while staying with a friend, when she was clearly not allowed to date. It wasn't her fathers explosive temper that set her off on the web of lies. It was me. It was me telling her I lost all trust in her and I couldn't do it anymore. That I could not trust her and had no idea what to do with her at this point. It seemed every time I began to trust her she would do something else, chasing boys--boys older, boys she wasn't allowed to date until high school. I told her from that point on I was no longer the "cool mom" that would always have her back, but trust in Brian's judgement, because every time I backed her I got burned. I told her "I don't care if you hate me, my job is to get you through high school graduated and not pregnant." We talked until 3 in the morning as she professed this great love for this boy, and how she should be allowed to date. I adamantly told her no. The answer was no. We came to no resolutions for punishments or where to go from here I just sent her to bed totally lost on what to do at this point. I had reached my point of exhaustion. Here she was 14 and in 8th grade and we had been going these rounds since 6th grade and 12 years old.

The next day I took her phone and kept it. Through out the morning message after message kept popping up on Kik app, Snap Chat, and another secret messenger. All from boys quite older. She was 14 these boys were 17. One boy, completely different from the previous boy she professed such love for, I discovered they too were talking about love and marriage. Another boy, the boy that resulted in the argument from the very first boy, stated he was her boyfriend. I then dug deeper and to my greatest fear saw a message from that weekend that we were out of town, plans to go hang out in a truck with this boy who was 17 for a couple hours, clearly stating we were out of town and she would sneak out around 10:00. They never did follow though but it terrified me. The only thing I could think of was had she gone, she could have been raped. We were not home, she could have gone off and been alone with this boy.

Out of pure anger, pure disgust, I got on her Facebook and posted a status "This is Alexis's mother, she is 14 years old. You boys that are 17 years old hitting on my daughter know that it is illegal! I will not hesitate to press charges, if her father does not get to you first. I suggest you get your nose back into your books and focus on your future while you still have one. This girl is OFF limits". At first I felt quite proud of myself. I knew she would've seen it through her friends. I didn't care. I was making a point. Until 20 minutes later, she then decided to make HER point, and went down to the office, and file a complaint that her father had abused her. Through examination there was not a single mark on her, even though she bruises easily. She claimed a concussion and without the presence of a cat scan they could only go off her symptoms, headache, tired, nausea. Couldn't possibly have been, the lack of sleep, facing consequences she didn't want to face... No this all got way too out of control.

I kept telling everyone they were making it worse. They had her backed in a corner she couldn't get out of. She couldn't back track her story now. There was only one way to go. Her mother. Which Brian has claimed for years it was all she ever really truly wanted anyway. I didn't want to believe it. I had thought over the years she had finally seen the mother she was and realized the great father she had, as well as the life we provided for her.

Suddenly, I sit back and hear those words from her mother. Her mother telling me I always acted too much like her "mother" and I needed to step aside. I guess I didn't know where my boundaries lied. Was I still to continue paying for everything and yet not speak to Alexis. Did I let her mom be her "mom" and let her provide the expense for dances, and soccer? If I did that then she never would have got to play. She already never sent birthday gifts, Christmas gifts, or a dime of child support. Did I separate out the children? My kids vs. his kid? I just wanted a family... One unit, not two.

I was even more devastated as more lies started pouring in from reports from DFS, and from her mother stating my "role" as "step-mother", and how horrible I was. That I separated her father and Alexis's relationship. That I would lie to get her into trouble and twist the truth. Where had I heard that same exact statement before? That I would try and force her to call me mother and she refused, never seeing me as a mother figure. I was nothing...truly nothing...

So now going on 3:32--less than three hours before my alarm sounds. I can't shake the horrifying feeling that this was me. Because I tried too hard to be a mother to her. Because Brian and I had fallen deeply in love. I think Alexis always liked the idea of having a female figure around, but only really to spoil her and go away. Never truly to stick around. I don't think she wanted him to love anyone else but her. I mean I guess it makes sense. She's young, wants her freedom. Her fathers undivided attention. The last thing she needed or wanted a was me. Meddling around in her business, pretending to be something I'm not. To her I was nothing... Just some one she hated, proof from screen shots from her mother, of their conversations to torture me more, that everyone hated me... And how she wished I were dead and not her father. Well child that is the one thing we both can agree on. I too wish it were me that had died. Then your father would be alive, and my kids...well I'm not sure where they would be, because I know they mean nothing to you and would have posed a burden...

I am sorry your father fell in love with me, but I will never be sorry for a single moment that I fell in love with him. He gave me life, he gave me hope, and for 8 years of our lives entwined together it was the most beautiful moments I will cherish always. He was and is my heart and soul now and forever.

It is now 3:46 and my this little girl lying next to me, my only daughter, sat up in bed looked at me snuggled closer and muffles "I love you" I whisper back "I love you" and she barely lets out the words "I love you more" seemingly in her sleep. "Not possible." I say as I pull her closer and finally feel at peace enough to put my phone down. She's my strength now, my realization of how much pain and loss she has endured in her life, losing the only father she ever knew, and the sister she had trusted and loved--yes, she needs me, just as much as I need her right now.

Good night... finally goodnight...

Karma doesn't exist...

As I sit here pondering life and the world around me I can't help but notice how ugly it is. Maybe this is a dark post. Negative view of life. But the reality is there is no such thing as karma, there is no such thing as people who get what they deserve.

Good people that do good things and always try to do the right thing don't have the fairy tale endings. They end up with tragedies, heart break, and sometimes death.

Those that do bad things, evil things, wrong and selfish things, seemingly end up getting whatever they want out of life. Maybe not always, but sometimes... They end up living--winning, and carrying on. Gloating as if the world is theirs and never feel an ounce of karma, or suffer the consequences of their actions.

The world is an ugly place with only small moments of joy and happiness that very few of us seem to get to enjoy for a very short time. It is not just... it is not fair. It just is...

I have always tried to do right by others, give to others. I have helped with funeral costs and arrangements for a new born baby that died of SIDS, I have donated to a little boy fighting cancer. I have raised funds for a mother that lost her husband weeks before the birth of a new baby. These are only some of the things I have done to always be a good supportive person. I didn't do it for glory, recognition or personal gain. I did it because it was the right thing to do. Or I thought it was the right thing to do.

My husband always tried to be a good person. He was always so negative about himself, but he was always giving to others, when he could. He would climb school buildings to get a little girls Frisbee off the roof top. He would walk across streets in the snow to help old men that slipped on ice. He always tried to be a good. He said it was so he could maybe get recognition from God for all the bad choices he had made earlier on in life, and make up for them. Although from so many stories I heard from his friends and his family he was always genuinely a good guy, that just sometimes, or often made bad choices, but even then, some of those bad choices were for good, no matter how misguided, reasons.

He was there for me when I became a single mother of four children, about to lose my home, with a car that was falling to pieces. He was there for me to give me fight and courage to keep going even when I wanted to give up. He gave me a safe haven.

He was a father to our children. The best father that he could possibly be. He gave our children structure. He encouraged them, and believed in them. He gave them a role model of what to do and what not to do. He was our protector, our strength.

Somehow him being a father, a good father! Was the beginning of a downward spiral of his demise. He fought for so long for his child, his children, to protect them, and their innocence. Yet in the end the world turned against him. Using his past against him. He was punished. Stripped of his right to be a father, because rules were not something that a teenager can abide by and in his own words "the legal system that kidnapped [his] daughter". The amount of torment that we endured was excruciating. 

Suddenly hearing that you have been nothing but a drug addict, and abusive your whole life, and needed help, even though he had sat on that couch for months resisting his urges to use, staying away from bad people, and being clean. Listening to all the work and sacrifices he made in life, were for nothing, because that child didn't want to live with you, or abide by your rules, that he "needed help".

To read documents stating how "abusive" he was from the mothers, yes plural, of his children, one he had not been apart of her life for six years. The other mother that refused to pay a dime of support, and be supportive and mature when we begged her to be. To read those damming papers of his own child saying "he wants to pimp me out to make money". For his last visit to be told he was abusive because he asked about her grades, and when he made a point that one grade can't slip to improve another. To get berated from DFS on how he talks to his child. Because he cared about her grades?

The pain I myself endured, for all the times I held her while she cried when her "mother" broke a promise or lied to her about money, or sending gifts, or fighting for custody. For all the times I was there giving up time with my four children, because I loved, and believed she was mine. I was at every sideline of every single game. I was there when kids were cruel to her at school. I was there taking her on shopping trips, I could not afford, because she felt down about herself. The money I gave her mother for gifts at Christmas, so that her daughter would not feel left out during our visit over the holidays, even though her mother was $20,000 back in child support and had not paid more than $60 in the 6 years she had been living with me. Paying for dance lessons she wanted, and soccer she wanted, even when I couldn't afford my other son art lessons. I gave, only to hear insults that she "never saw me as a mother figure" that we had a strained relationship because she "refused to call me mother". Even though not one single time did I request this. Never once did I force myself on her. I just loved her. Suddenly it was for nothing.

Now here we are life....

Her "mother" the only person her father said she ever truly loved, receives a pay check from my husbands death. They are all a "happy family". A family I can't help but resent. Because it was me that fought for her relationship with the mother of his other two children. Sending birthday gifts, enduring the abusive insults for years from his ex, before I was able to break through and finally get her able to talk with her siblings. The trips I would run late at night and short on money to run her across the mountain in the snow to be there and rekindle their relationship.

The family with the "mother" that refused to ever support her daughter for years, only lies, and broken promises. The "mother' I endured countless name callings and insults from, attacking my looks, my weight, and even as low as telling me my first husband did what he did just to get away from me. The "mother" that for years Brian would tell me to break communication, block numbers, etc. But I refused, because looking at the little face of the girl I loved so much I could not remove her from her life. So instead I helped her go behind her father's back and ask everyone to please be mature, and why we can't all just get along and find a way to support one another as if we were an extended family. I wanted that little girl to have all the love in the world she could possibly have.

Now here I am eight years of all the tears, the sweat, the time and the money spent and I am nothing. She has her family and they are all happy. Completely disregarding everything I did to help them be a family, a family that ultimately destroyed my family.

They are happy. I was happy once too... we had a happy family once, or so I had believed... I guess it was always a lie. All the texts, all the messages, all the essays, and poems written about me being such a great "mother" and how lucky she was to have me and how much she loved me. All a lie... Just one giant lie to get what she could out of me, for all of them to get what they wanted out of me.

I struggle every single day of my life. Not only emotionally, but financially, still fighting for my children and keeping their home, their livelihood. Even though in the end it was me that loved him. It was my kids that stood beside him, and defended him, and loved him. We receive nothing. Nothing but the insurmountable bills.

No this isn't about money, but the fact of how unfair it is that these people all bashed my husband, through countless messages and posts wishing he were "dead". What a "dead beat father" he was, how much "help" he needed. How "abusive and evil" he was. Now they all get to enjoy in the glory of his death. Nothing more than a paycheck to all of them. Well he was so much more than that to me, to us, to my children. He was my husband, he was their father!

The only thing I want--is my husband back. I want him alive. I want him next to me every single day. I want to love him. Hold him. Kiss him. Bills were exhausting always, but with him I felt hope, and that it was all worth every moment. Every time I worked late, every time I was sore, and could barely move, it was worth every moment for my family. I fought for them, I struggled for them. I loved them...

I think back to my ex husband that is sitting in prison. How much does he suffer really? Was it worth doing the right thing? I turned him in for molesting my daughter, protecting my family, and for what? He will not ever have to worry about how to feed the kids every day, if the mortgage gets paid, He lives. When he gets out, he gets a whole new life. By the time he gets out he can actually start a new family if he wanted to. As disgusting as an idea this is, he can. He is sitting in prison, so child support is not something he worries about, in fact in the decree, since he is set to be in prison throughout my children's youth, child support was not ordered.

What was the point in making the right choice? If I had not turned him in, I would receive child support. If he were dead, the kids would receive social security. So, he pays no bills, he gets to live and be secure for his next meal and the lights are always on.

I guess there really is no price to pay for the protection of my daughter, as well as the protection of any other possible victims... There is no price you can actually put onto that. It just kind of sucks that I feel as though I am being punished for his mistakes, and for doing the right thing.

This isn't even just about me, and my family, and the unjust bullshit we have had to endure in life. It seems to be people in general. What the fuck is Karma? I have done nothing but try and do all the right things. I see others that are good people always doing the right things. Where is this so called Karma?

My husband received his "karma" by being dead. By beaten down to feel as though he was nothing but scum on the bottom of these peoples shoes. That the lies that were said, and lies that were reported, that he gave up trying to be clean, tired of feeling, tired of fighting. He gave up hope on why he should try, if his own daughter didn't want him, and everyone worked against him based off from his past transgressions, and criminal history. A criminal history that wasn't even violent. The karma he received by trying to be a good father and trying to protect his child from making mistakes, mistakes that could destroy her life.

Where is this supposed karma? Vacations and shopping trips? Happiness and freedom in new lives that was awarded with a check and not even a second thought for who was hurt? So long as they just keep receiving that check every single month.

The karma for the people that "legally kidnapped" his child. The lies, the harassment, the judgement, and overall mishandling of this case from the very beginning. They all got to move on close a case file and carry on their jobs to continue destroying other families. We are nothing but a fleeting past thought, a closed case. Who cares? They got what they were after proving my husband was "nothing but a junkie" not a person, not a father to the four kids that did want him. not a husband to a wife that adored him, that needed him.

No they won... they all won. Everyone except the five people left in this house that always believed in him, loved him, and wanted him to be their father, to be my husband.

Karma? Karma doesn't exist. Bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people. Karma was a word formulated to create fear or that "feel good feeling" that people are searching desperately for in their moments of hope, or moments of pain. Wishing karma on those that have done you wrong, or those doing good things, because you believe something good will happen to you because you were a good person or did a good deed.

Will I stop doing good things because I call bullshit on karma? No... I don't think I am wired that way. I don't like seeing others hurt. I will always help people when I can because frankly I am not an asshole. I am not "buying my way into heaven" I am not trying to prove any point. It is just who I am by nature. Will I ever get a damn thing out of it? No... I will still come home and wonder if my lights will be on today, and worry about my kids next meal. There's no magical check coming my way and no change of events. I will still have to get up and work my ass off every single day of my life, even though I don't even want to leave my house.

I don't know that I believe in miracles at all any more. I think there are good people and bad people and I think some people are fortunate to have good things happen to them not based on whether they are good or bad people, but just because shit fucking happens, and you either get shit on, or you get lucky.

There will still be assholes out there never having to admit they are assholes and never facing consequences for their asshole decisions that destroyed people's lives. They get to go on about their lives with their "happy families" and fuck the family they destroyed.

There will also always be the good people out there in the world always giving of themselves, and loving others, and will never receive an ounce of recognition, no pay back no "karma". They will still struggle, They will still live their shitty lives but they will do it with a smile and a hope for humanity. I believe I was once one of these people... I will still always give and do for others because I guess it's how I am wired. But my faith that good things happen to good people no longer exists.

Truth is, the world is an ugly place with a mix of good people and bad people. You have a choice if you want to be good or if you want to be bad but this notion of Karma, is bullshit. Be an asshole, hope it makes you feel good. Hope it makes you feel good destroying peoples lives. If that's your game, great, stay the fuck away from me, I am done with people like this. I am done believing that the world can intermingle and get along. Ugly, heartless people will band together and never change, so go live your heartless lives and hopefully you're happy. I just hope that the beautiful people with great hearts will never be tainted with negativity and can stay strong enough to create what little beauty that is left in the world. The world needs more light.

The one thing we need to stop is the notion of karma. There is no karma. Just life and actions, and consequences of our actions--of our choices, and the choices of others that effect many.

I am glad it is so easy for all of you to forget when this is my life, surrounding me every single second of every single day and every single night, until one day I may be blessed to no longer wake from this life, this hell that is on earth--in due time, since four children only have me that is left in their life. I live, no matter how much you wish me dead. 

Without you...

I am struggling today like any other day I guess. Just sometimes it becomes so incredibly unbearable! I have no idea where to turn to or who to scream to. Feels as though everyone is tired of listening to my same sorrows. Always trying to give me words of encouragement or telling me to get on meds or med check, counseling. You name it they all say it. There is nothing I haven't heard yet.

I don't know how to go on without you, I keep trying. I keep trying to find motivation, inspiration, and surround myself with my kids who need me. Yet, sometimes I feel like you are calling me to come to you. Or maybe that's more my own desires just wanting to go be with you...

This pain is excruciating. I love you. I have always loved you and to live without that love, feels like there is no purpose to live at all anymore. I miss our family that we once had. I miss the laughter I miss the love. I miss that I had someone to come home to and share in my day, my frustrations, my successes, my goals.

I try hard to cling onto Kiki, and knowing she needs me, I know all my kids do but the boys are so independent and Kiki has been through the most pain, and them most loss, I can't leave her. It feels so unfair sometimes to feel the burden of life.

It is so difficult to do what is right by my children when the only thing in the world I want to do is find the spot you died, take the sleeping bag you were on, that I sleep with every single night, and inject the poisons into my veins and let it all slip away so that you can come to me and take me, and I can be with you.

Life is so cruel, and the world is so ugly. I have no choice but to live on and keep going. I wish you were around finding ways to encourage me and give me strength to keep going--keep fighting. Instead, all I want to do is find you and be with you.

Never, not one day in my life have I ever not wanted to work, and yet I don't want to get up and exist outside of my home. I wish I could just find a way to stay home, not be apart of the outside world. I just want to stay here. If I can't go be with you, I would rather surround myself with you, your belongings, your memory. I am tired of pretending. I am tired of putting on the fake smile for the benefit of others. I just want to be left alone, be alone, if I can't have you apart of my world, I don't want to be apart of the world...