Communication Breakdown

The hell of the past few days are over and we move forward.  It was all created by the communication breakdown and using text messages and not talking personally.

When Devon finally came home at 12:30am, Sunday, i had reached my boiling point.  i had enough.  Though not what i truly wanted, i was just so tired of being hurt, taken for granted, so i told him to leave.  He threw his wedding ring at me and said, through anger, he wish he had never married me.

So for the next few hours he started bagging up all his fashion and clothes. He finally went to bed around 3:30am and i fell asleep around 4:00am.  But i awoke at 7:30am, shaky and confused.  Without him, i had no desire to live, so i foolishly wrote out a few things and took it over to our dear neighbor, Anne.  She could see i have upset and i assured her it was mean to be and stupidly told her not to worry.

Not long after, Anne, and our landlord, Dana, came over saying they were worried.  i answered the door with tears and begged them not to worry.  Anne said she was going to call the police, i begged her not to and just let things be, i then closed the door.

About an hour later, there was a loud knock on the door, i went to answer it, seeing one police officer looking through the window.  i let them in and explained everything to them.  As i talked to them, one of the three officers went upstairs and talked to Devon.  The other officers told me what i expected, that because i made a threat on my life i had to go into the hospital to be checked out and talk with professionals.  

i had mentioned that i didn't want to come back home and find all of Devon's belongings, even his painting, gone.  Sadly the officer who talked to Devon told him that i wanted to come back and find all his belongings gone, which only caused so much more stress for him.

i was strapped into a wheelchair, they wouldn't even let me put on my shoes and taken out of the house.  Once in the ambulance, i started joking around, seeing my own situation as humorous, so i would cry thinking about Devon.

At the hospital, i was placed in a bed, in the hallway because all rooms were full.  Several hours later, a social worker came to talk with me, but seemed to being going through a basic script without truly listening to me.   The whole i was there, i laid in the hallway, no privacy at all, which didn't allow me to sleep, rest or feel the overwhelming emotions going through me.

The social worker returned saying she consulted with the doctor and they decided i should be committed for 72 hours of observation.  But they had to wait for someone from the county to come in to sign the official paperwork.

So i continued to lay there and though i was in the middle on an intersection of the hallway, i felt invisible.  There was woman in a room near me screaming a repeated prayer for about two hours.  Another room near me was a man who they kept having to remind him to stay in his room.  Across the hall was a woman screaming and swearing that she had a broken back, but was still able to get up and walk around.  While i laid there, glowing floresence lights above me, making it impossible to close my eyes, staff and visitors walking past me, always looking down at me.

i was able to get my fone and check things out on Facebook, even Devon's message saying after 8 1/2 years our relationship was over.  But he was still upset about the misinformation the police gave him.  Through several private test messages, and my trying to clear things up, it seemed there might be hope to save our marriage.  But his last message said he would wait until i was home so we could talk face-to-face.  No complete confidence, but i felt hopeful.

Finally after 12 hours since entering the hospital, the county person arrived, a very kind apologetic man.  We talked briefly and he said he saw no reason for me to be committed and i could go home.  He looked at the text messages from Devon, agreed that it was wrong what he did, or didn't do, on my birthday and understood, to a degree how i could be so upset.

But it then took 3 1/2 hours before i was actually discharged and after a cab ride home, i returned home at 4:30am.  i opened the door, holding my breath, not knowing if i would find an empty house or if he waited.  Though everything was packed, his things were still here.  Since he sleeps upstairs and due to my health it is difficult to go upstairs, so i wasn't sure if he was home.  i finally ate something and laid down and quickly fell asleep at 5:30am.  Though still worried about the future, i was awake by 8:30am.

It wasn't until 11:00am that i heard Devon coming downstairs.  He sat on the sofa, looking at me with his pissed off face and we talked.  Too often going in circles, but we were both calm and expressed what needed to be said.  He agreed it was wrong what happen on my birthday, but we agreed about the foolish miscommunication.

After about an hour and a half of talking, we agreed to stay together, with a few changes, mostly an understanding that i deserved a little more appreciation and respect.  And we both need to work on communication.

So, one week before our first anniversary, we stayed together.   We survive to thrive.

LOVE and TRUTH prevail.