A week and half has gone by since I found out my ex killed himself. Prescription medication overdose. I got a phone call from my boss during my lunch hour on Monday 9th March telling me that the police needed to speak with me.
I was terrified. What the hell had I done wrong? I called my husband and asked him to come with me, I was worried that it might be something I didn’t want to hear. By the time we sat down with police we had narrowed down the possibilities to two things- my parents had somehow been killed, or my ex was dead.
I was hoping it wasn’t my parents.
It was him. Apparently a couple of campers discovered him in his campervan at Mitchell QLD. He had been dead a few days and there was a suicide note. He had been in trouble with the police about a month before, no surprise there. He had a criminal history bigger than the Grand Canyon. I wondered what was written in that note. I hoped the kids weren’t mentioned in it. I would hate for them to carry that burden. He had split up with his girlfriend 3 weeks ago. Why do I see a horrible pattern emerge……..
I was a little choked up when I was told about his death, and in a bit of shock but not for the reasons that most would think. I left this mongrel 13yrs ago. All I felt was relief. Sweet blessed relief. He was gone. No longer a rock hanging around my neck, no more stress and pain to be inflicted on me or my babies who are 13yrs and 15yrs. As I left the police station hand in hand with my husband, I did cry but they were tears of anger. I was, so fucking angry. Why did he have to put the kids through so much shit and to do this!!! The dirty coward. How were we going to explain this? How do you explain suicide to anyone let alone a child.
In the end we omitted the word suicide, but the pain on my children’s faces was too much. We chose the straight forward approach, there really was no other way. My daughter didn’t speak for a little while, she didn’t want a hug. She went to her room and sat quietly for a while. We left her there for a bit while we spoke to my son. He has Aspergers. He was upset initially, but we haven’t seen much emotion regarding the death of his father in the weeks since then. He sometimes gets teary when we sit and talk about him and how we all feel and I can get hugs when he’s upset but its more to keep mum happy than actually wanting a hug himself. I look at him and see a ticking time bomb waiting to go off.
I go to my baby girl to find her bawling her eyes out. It breaks my heart but I feel relieved that it’s all coming out now. I hug her tight and I talk. I tell her that I’m angry at what her Dad has done and that it’s ok to be angry. She cut contact with him two years ago so her anger is pointed in slightly different direction. She wanted to tell him he’s an asshole, she wanted to tell him a lot more than that, but missed her chance. She so desperately wants to get it out of her system. I tell her that I am relieved that he is gone now, because we no longer have to put up with his abuse anymore and she cries harder. Turns out she felt so bad for feeling relieved that he was gone. She felt that something was wrong with her.