After my recovery from my hospital stay, a bout of crying and severe depression hit me like a freight train. I laid in bed ALL weekend and cried... and when I say all weekend, I'm talking from bedtime to bedtime, folks. Sunday I hit rock bottom. I contemplated suicide all day... how I would do it, who would find me, how much emotional damage would I cause? These thoughts played over and over without ceasing. That evening I got in my car and drove.. not really going anywhere in particular, and I ended up at Battlefield Park in one of the obscure parking lots. I wept like a baby as I contemplated how terrible my life was and how I just couldn't take it anymore... it would never be good again... I would never be me again. I emptied a bottle of pills into my hand. I stared at them, rolled them around, counted them, felt them with my fingers. I sent a text to my husband, Joel, that this was the end. I thanked him for always being there for me, told him I loved him and that I was sorry, and asked him to apologize to the kids. He kept asking me where I was and calling me, but I refused to tell him. I was serious this time.

I was scared. In a flash I almost just popped them in my mouth to just "do it and get it over with"... but as my hand neared my face, something stopped me. I put the pills back in the bottle and sealed it. I sat there rather stunned at the turn of events... I turned on my car and drove home. Joel, trembling and relieved, held me while I cried and cried. This was not the first time I had done this... I can't even count the times over the past three years that I had really scared him.

So, the next day I was like a new woman. I got up, took the kids to school, went shopping, met with friends... you know, all the stuff I wasn't doing before. Something was different, though. Something was wrong with Joel. I poked and prodded and he finally admitted that he was emotionally broken and exhausted, and he needed a break from me. I was shocked, but totally understood the feeling. I had just simply worn him out. He asked me to leave for a least two weeks. I was devastated, but willing to help him get healthy too. So, here I am at my sister, Colleen's house. I hope I can learn some things and come back rejuvenated. I hope Joel wants me back sooner than two weeks.. I miss him so much already.

There is more to this story that I will write tomorrow. Until then, please say a prayer for my marriage.

Thank you.....