It's been awhile since I have logged on here. I don't know how to say this other than to just say it...my husband committed suicide Thursday, July 6th.

Friggen alcoholism.

Those that know me here know that we had been having difficulties in our marriage for the past 4 yrs w/relapses and continued attempts at recovery. The day he died was his 8 month sobriety bday.

The past 4 yrs was very difficult for both of us. That bond between us had been strained and even though we had moments of hope for our future, deep down inside I knew that, for me, this marriage was done. I couldn't take the emotional rollercoaster ride anymore. I talked to him over and over about how my needs weren't being met, and even though I continued to work my Program, there was something lacking in my life. I loved the man, but I couldn't spend a lifetime w/that empty hole in me anymore.

*deep breath*....I had hung on for many years and knew that I needed to move on when I found myself having very strong feelings for a friend of mine. Maybe it wasn't so much feelings for him as it was also feelings for myself and a different life.

Trying to work an honest Program, I told my husband that I no longer could be commited to our marriage. He seemed to take it rather well to be honest. Like he knew it was coming.

Jim had put down the bottle and was going to a meeting or two a week. Friends in the Program encouraged him to hit a meeting daily (he was laid off from work so he had the time). He was talking w/his sponsor a few times a week.

Things seemed to be great when he first sobered up. That "high". Then once the newness wore off he became increasingly angry and negative. Withdrawn too. He isolated himself. Wouldn't talk much. I can't remember the last time he truely smiled and laughed.

The night he killed himself we had taken our daughter to the mall. We actually had a decent day. Came home that evening and I was on the deck doing my readings. He started talking about us doing stuff together. It was the same old song and dance. One I had heard before. "One more chance" crap. I got angry. Asked him "why now? Why since I am leaving NOW you decide to do this?" 4 yrs I held on waiting for that sober man that I married to come back..seeing glimpses of him here and there waiting on baited breath for life to resume to some what normal. All I wanted was a chance to breathe again.

I think he finally got it that I was really moving on. Anger over took him. He started saying terrible things to me when I told him "f*ck you". I was angry. I reacted, I admit. I wanted him to just stop for once. Stop blaming everyone else. Face reality and just accept it anyway he could.

He got up from his chair and had rage in his eyes. Never in our 9 yrs together has he ever laid a hand on me-that night he did. I told him to get his stuff and leave or else I was calling the police. The man standing before me wasn't my husband.

He started to cry. Said that he hadn't ever done that to a woman and kept apologizing over and over again. Since he wouldn't leave I told him that I was leaving. I was heading to a friend's home who is in the Program to cool down and try to think straight. He became panicky. Wanted to know where I was going, who I was seeing, when I was coming home. I told him I just needed to take a drive and wasn't sure when I would be back home.

The last thing I told him was that I had lost all respect for him for doing what he did to me that evening.

I was 10 minutes down the road when our 15 yr old daughter called my cell hysterical. "Something is wrong w/dad..there's blood all over".

Jim took our 9mm pistol, laid himself on the grass right along side of the driveway and shot himself in the mouth. Our 6 yr old son was the one that found him.

I don't get it..I don't understand. I know that I didn't pull that trigger, but damn...I hope that he had finally found the peace that he was looking for.