Letters of Meth Abuse Deaths and Tragedies

• Mar
  03

  The Broken Promise

  I met Brad April 8, 2000 at a bar in Davenport Iowa called The Broken Promise. It was the first night I had been "out" in almost three years. My best friend at the time, Keri, was supposed to go out with someone else but her date stood her up, so I was instantly asked. Normally I would decline, but not this night.

  Keri was singing, doing the karaoke thing when Brad walked up to me and asked me to dance. And I, being a horrible dancer said "No thanks" but you can sit down and we can chat. Instantly we hit it off. He lived and grew up in a little town called Bennett, which I was familiar with because my first borns father's family lived there. We had things in common. We showed each other our children's pictures (Brad had two Boys from a previous marriage) and then I took him home YA I took him home. I'd never done anything like that before. Well, he spent the night. That first night he was brutally honest with me. He told me he had just been released from Ft. Madison prison in January for domestic on his ex-wife, had been a meth addict with her but was never going to touch the stuff again. He told me I was the most beautiful person he'd ever met, was impressed that I actually had a "career" and did things fun like go to concerts and see bands. He said he was so happy to have finally met a "nice girl" for a change. What's funny is I remember telling him something like "you don't have to keep on complimenting me, you're going to get laid"! LOL In the morning we exchanged phone numbers. When he left, I admit, I threw his away. I figured "hey that was fun" and would never hear anything from him again.

  Let me tell ya, Brad was FINE, he was built (from working out so much being in the penitentiary for 5 years) and he had these shining eyes and this smile that would make anyone's heart just melt. He ended up calling me two days later I couldn't believe it. He asked me if I'd go on a real date with him and I was, and this is not lie, giddy like a teenager. I couldn't believe this HOT gorgeous hunk of meat was asking ME out LOL!!! I guess I was blinded by his beauty, that's the only reasoning I have for not running from the start. METH, DOMESTIC I should have been scared stiff. But nope, I think I was in love from the first moment. I had this feeling that first night that "this is the one".

  Our first date was a blast; we ate out at a nice restaurant, went to the drive in, talked and laughed and laughed and laughed. I'd never in my life clicked with anyone so much as I had with Brad. It was amazing. I told all my friends I met "hubba hubba" I believe he really loved me from the start too. We were together 24/7 when he was home (he was an OTR trucker). We moved in together in May, he proposed less than 30 days after we met.

  Before Brad, I never knew a meth user, never even really knew what it was. Brad even told me at one time that he'd never use again but if he did, I'd know it. His mom told me how nasty he was before he was sent to prison, and she was the first person to tell me that only 6% on average ever quit. But I didn't care I was love sick.

  I started noticing changes in Brad a couple months after we met. Things like his paranoia, or the way his voice sounded different on the phone. How he'd come home and stay up all night long after driving for days. How he'd wake me up at 4am to make love, and then start working out in the garage for the rest of the morning, all day and night, and that he wasn't eating like he used to. He told me he was taking diet pills because since his release from prison he was putting on too much weight ect ect ect. I bought it UNTIL.

  I got a call while he was out driving, he was literally insane saying that I had men in the house, would question if anyone has asked me questions He'd say things like "You know you don't have to tell them anything" when I asked who "them" was he'd just say "you will know who they are when they come." He quit his job, was home all the time and was just plain nuts. I left him the first time in October 2000. A week later I took a pregnancy test POSITIVE.

  I was terribly depressed, thinking oh great I get to raise another kid on my own. I considered abortion, adoption but Brad wouldn't have it. I moved back in in November 2000 and stayed till the day after Christmas, when he threw me out at 3 am because he thought I was "hacking" into his computer. (We lived in the house his parents owned next door to their own house).

  He'd try to call me, I wouldn't answer. I blocked him from emailing me but he'd just make new email addresses and email me anyways. The day after Valentine 's Day 2001 he emailed me a long letter, said he had his last bout with meth, was getting help and wanted me back. Wanted to be a family and wanted to be a daddy. I bought it So, I moved back to Bennett, this time though I got my own apartment with my son. Brad lived a block and a half away. Around the 15th of March Brad proposed again. I accepted. We were married March 28, 2001, and I moved out of my apartment and back into the house. All my friends and family told me I was nuts, that I was making the biggest mistake in all my life. I didn't buy it. I loved Brad so much.

  Not long after our marriage he started getting funky again. On one occasion when I questioned him he knocked me over in a chair. I was pregnant too. He would spend nights gone from home, sometimes as many as 3 nights at a stretch. But somehow I managed to stick it out and deal with it, for a while. The last thing I wanted to do was let everyone know they were right.

  The day I went into labor Brad was home, and he was with me every minute threw 15 hours of labor, he was wonderful. The day of Brad Jr,'s birth is without a doubt the greatest day I have ever lived. Brad held my hand, pushed with me, screamed with me, was absolutely the man I fell in love with. The day we were to go home from the hospital, however, the mean Brad was back. My oldest son had left the outside spicket dripping. Brad called me at the hospital and when I didn't respond the way he wanted me to, he told me to find my own F'ing ride home. I was in tears I could not believe he could behave like that. When he got to the hospital he was apologetic but not as much as one would expect.

  In July 2001 Brad got a new job with Tantara Trucking. He spent a lot of time on the road, sometimes 12 days in a row. Would get so excited when they sent him to California. The trips out West were the worst. He'd call me in the middle of the night and tell me to be quiet, don't breath so loud I can't hear anything. I'd have to tell him there was nothing to hear, I was alone and in bed sleeping when he called. He wouldn't let me get off of the phone. I knew then he was using again. Rather than waiting for him to come back home and fighting about everything, dealing with the denial and also being afraid he'd hurt me or our new son, I left again. I went to a battered women's shelter. When he got home he was served with a no-contact order. That was in October 2001. I managed to stay away until Mid-November. We went to a marriage counselor. He never admitted he had a drug problem at counseling, told me to say nothing about it. He did most of the talking about how I was so insecure ect. What a fool I was. But not one minute of our entire time together did I not love this man.

  In December 2001 my older son who was 12 at the time, Travis, moved in with his dad, he couldn't deal with me and Brad anymore. He still lives with his dad today.

  In November 2001 I went back and He stayed clean for a while I am sure, he never said he wasn't using and it was a known rule that I not ask questions. If I did, oh boy did he get angry. I tried way too hard to ignore it. But deep down I knew.

  He met this guy, Jeff Rogers was his name.(Jeff later hung himself. He was caught drug trafficking in California while truck driving and was looking at life in prison) Started hanging out with him for nights on end. They did team driving together, so he told me. They went on a run June 24th. He came home the 28th. He was so out of it when he got home I didn't even know who he was. While I was going to the restroom he picked me up by my neck and threw me into the bathroom wall, broke my glasses and I had bruises all over my arms and back. When he finally crashed about 12 hours later, I snuck out of the h house with our son and went to the police station. Charges were pressed; photos were taken, the whole 9 yards. Brad ran. Went down south to Florida or Georgia or something he never did say exactly. He came back home July 16, 2002, his birthday and was arrested for assaulting a woman on a side street in Muscatine Iowa, and then was taken up to our county jail. I got a permanent no contact order again, was granted temporary custody of our son. Brad was allowed only supervised visits at my moms. The visits lasted 2 weeks. Brad started calling me at my work number and would play songs into the phone, like "Baby come on home" by Led Zeppelin. He started emailing me again. Swore if I gave him just one more chance he wouldn't mess it up again. I resisted for a about 24 hours lol. But I believed him. Deep down I knew it wasn't for real, but I love this man so damn much I HAD to try. I reasoned, what if this is it for him, he's really going to get better. So, Back to Bennett we go, our son and I. At the deposition for the domestic charge against Brad I plead the 5th. All charges were dropped as well as the no contact order.

  Oh, we were like kids we were so in love then He was so perfect. Caring, open, and just plain sweet. I have to say that last stretch of time together were the best months were ever had. I went back home September 2002 and stayed until I left again in February of this year.

  We did the counseling thing again, Brad was going to anger management classes, but not once did he ever go to any kind of drug treatment program. I will never know why. I believe he was sincere when he said he wanted to quit using. Apparently he believed he could kick it on his own. Oh, how wrong he was.

  Thursday, February 5th, 2003 was the last time my husband and I ever made love. Because the following day I had to have surgery (hemorriodectomy). He took good care of me too. Of course, I was so out of it with pain medication that I didn't even notice he wasn't sleeping. I didn't notice anything. A week after my surgery I was driving my 13 year old home when I felt a pop and my car seat was instantly covered in blood. I turned around and went back home and when I walked in the door I believe I may have interrupted something. Nothing else can explain how Brad reacted. I had so much blood coming out of me that I covered the bathtub, I was hemorrhaging and badly. Brad yelled at me for making such a mess, for using all the hot water and making him take care of Brad JR. I was shocked. I was scared and I was in tears. I called my mom and while I was talking to her Brad said to me "You telling your mom your sob story too?" He left me with the baby, covered in blood and went to bed. I went to bed too, devastated. I knew Brad was using again.

  The next day I left, for the last time. And I swore no matter what this man said, did or promised I was NEVER going back.

  I stayed with a friend for a while, and Brad would call. One minute he was so sorry, the next it was my entire fault. His behavior was so unpredictable. I believe by this time Brad was already gone. The beautiful man I fell so in love with was already dead. Or more like one of the living dead. He tried to kidnap our son, took my car away from me (it was in his name I could do nothing about it) and gave me a p.o.s. to drive with our son. He threatened me and on March 9 he tried to take our son again. When I reached into the car to grab my son Brad slammed the door on my face and arm. I have a permanent scar and whelp on my face (right cheek) and a great big whelp on my arm from the door. I was screaming hysterically. Cars surrounded Brad's car and the police came. My son was returned to me, charged were filed on Brad again, and I got another temporary no contact order.

  March 21, 2003 is the last day I saw my husband alive. It was at the courthouse at the hearing to make the temp order a permanent one. I looked at him a lot. I don't know why. I remember what shoes he wore, the coat, the shirt, and the jeans, how his beard was trimmed. He looked like my Brad. so gorgeous. I'll never forget how he looked that day. He had a full beard; he always looked so good in a beard its heartbreaking now. I cry.

  On March 28th, our 2nd anniversary is the last time I heard his voice alive. I went out drinking with a friend, had a few in me and called him. I didn't say anything, but I heard his voice "Hello", hello", "Cyndi I know it's you". I hung up. To this day, I hear those words.

  The next day Brad started emailing me, only these were very disturbing emails. Pictures of nude women in sexual circumstances. These women looked nothing like me, yet each one he sent to me and my mother, and wrote things like. "I'm such a slut" and crazy things like that. He swore they were pictures of me. I have them still today.

  He'd send me Instant messages under several different aol screen names, but the last time he IM'd me I saved the conversation. The screen name was loveu4eva62503. In this conversation he admitted everything, as far as I will ever know. His drug problem, his lies, how he lied about me to his family, said he was going to NA, and was going to face the music. I told him he was a liar, that'd he'd done too much damage and to leave me alone for good. Divorce was filed and I told him I was going to used it all against him. I was literally nasty to him. I told him I was not going to put myself or my children through this anymore. I told him NO. We talked for about 2 hours. Every word I saved and have printed. I read it almost every day his desperation, his regret and guilt, and his sincerity. I wish like hell I'd have given him that last chance but I didn't. He ended the conversation with "I love you Cyn, Goodnight".

  The following morning April 8, 2003 3 years exactly to the day we met, I woke up, made some coffee, sat down and checked my email in it was a suicide letter from Brad titled "Document of Silence". In it he spoke of his fear, how he failed, how drugs and abuse has ruined his life and said he was ending it. I opened that letter at 9:35am 2 minutes later I was on the phone with his mother who lived right next door. I mean, you could see her kitchen sink and its contents from our kitchen sink. That's how close Brad was to her when he died. She said "If he kills himself that's his problem" and hung up on me.

  I talked to Brad one last time at 10:06am. Here's the conversation:
  Brad: I am scared Cynthia. I
  Me: Brad I called your mom. Your computer is supposed to be broke she says
  Brad: I told her that I fixed it, why call her
  Me: Jesus Brad, you just sent me an email that you're going to off yourself. Thought I better let her know. Someone needs to. You are going to stop this! You have got to get it together.
  Brad: I can't help it. I love u and I can't see it any other way
  Me: then go talk to someone. Call a hotline
  Brad: shit u r the one I want to talk to
  Me: I can't help you
  Brad: I can't tell her anything. No one understands
  Me: call a hotline
  Brad: just forget it I wish I would have waited till you were offline. God it hurts so much!!!
  Me: you need help Brad and I am not going to be the one to do it
  Brad: I told you I couldn't tell her anything, she told me to grow up and fly right, she won't listen and now neither do you
  Brad: so it's done. I'll go to sleep that will solve all your problems and mine, never to wake up again. I love u and I'm sorry Cynthia. I asked and again no one listens this is not.
  Me: what do you want from me?
  Brad: so aimamrigt. tw'ove i ahv foruis evermr goner

  I think he was trying to say something like 'so i am right the love I have for us is gone forever" I don't know that's all I could make out of it.

  I tried to call Brad on the phone all day and night around 930pm that night I called the police and asked them to do a well-being check. They knocked and got no answer. They didn't bust in because in the past Brad had been very violent. This is a really small town of about 2oo people. They didn't bust in. If they had though, it would have been too late.

  I went to bed, the last time that night I tried to call Brad it was about 2 am. Still no answer.

  At about 9 am April 9th, Brad's mom called. I didn't get to the phone in time. She left a message "Well if you want to see him he's in the morgue. All those dirty email you were sending him did it, I hope you're happy".

  Brad told his mom I sent him those filthy emails and those emails weren't from me nor were they pictures of me, but sent to me and my mom by Brad. To this day, Brad's mother still believes it. She still believes, even though the death certificate says drug overdose, that Brad was not using drugs anymore. I don't know why. She knew. The night before Brad died he told me she knew and was really pissed off at him. I can only guess that is why when I called her and told her about the suicide letter she responded the way she did. No level minded mother would say "if he kills himself that's his problem" about her own child unless she was really upset about something. But then again, who knows the whole family was fooled by Brad for so many years.

  The medical examiner says he died at around 7:30 pm that night. So he was still alive another 8 hours after I last talked to him. I'll never know what happened during those final hours. He had 20 times the toxic level of meth in his system. Intentional overdose, but the death certificate says drug overdose, nothing about suicide. He also had Xanax in his system. My guess is he took the meth, and then tried to come down with the Xanax. But again, I'll never know.

  I didn't go to the funeral, having gotten the message from brads mom, I figured it was best not to. I said goodbye privately two nights after his death. I was his first visitor. Oh, the pain. Even in death he still looked so beautiful, so gorgeous. He was dressed in his Biker clothes, all black, A biker shirt that said "Legends never Die" that I bought him, and I have one just like it I wear to bed each night, the leather vest we were married in, and his leather boots. He had his Harley hat, his Iowa Hawkeyes hat and in his hands he was holding his Jeff Gordon hat. I held his hand and I told him I loved him. I said "oh honey". I remember saying "oh honey". I kissed his forehead and I looked at him for a long time. I took it all in. The last time I ever saw him. His hand was cold. I remember how he felt. Then I said goodbye and walked away. I didn't want to leave him, I wanted to go back, but I didn't.

  Not a day goes by that Brad isn't on my mind, not a day goes by that I do not cry. I miss him so much. I missed him before he died, I just couldn't live with it anymore. I wish things were different. I wish he was alive. But I know he's at peace now, that he's no longer suffering.

  Ironically though, as I said earlier Brad and I met at a bar called the Broken Promise. The last line of his suicide letter he said "love is just another broken promise I could never understand, I'm sorry."

  Three years that's how long I knew him. The rest of my life is how long I will miss him.

  I see him every time I look at our son; Brad Jr. he has his daddy's eyes and his bubble butt. It's all a bittersweet blessing.

  Update

  Brad died twenty five months ago (2 years and one month in case you don't wanna do the math LOL). There was a time when I really believed that my life would not go on; that I was slated to live a life of morbid grief and sadness at the loss of the man who I thought was my soul mate. Indeed, he was however, no longer am I grief stricken to the point of nausea.

  I would say it was about nine months ago when I finally "let go", and left Brad to rest in peace. Oh I still miss him, I still cry, and I still talk to him and ask God to let him visit me in my dreams. But, it no longer consumes me, I have had days where the sun rises and sets and Brad does not come to mind at all. But I also have days where he is the primary thing on my mind.

  Brad was a gift for me, a great gift I will always cherish and be thankful for. Through Brad I've learned to be more accepting, more patient and kinder. And I've learned quite a bit about myself. I'm a harder woman than I used to be, not so easily led by my emotions, and now I am much more practical. I don't believe everything I'm told anymore, and that is another one of them little gifts Brad gave me. I'm no longer so naive.

  My life has moved on. The last time I was at Brad's grave I said goodbye to him, for the last time. I told him that I was in love with a new man, one so very different from him. And I told him that although I love this new wonderful man, I do not love him nearly the same as I did him. Brad was so very special to me. There was a glow about him that I will never forget and even when I think of him today I smile. I do miss his adorable face. I still look for him sometimes when I'm out walking, but I've come to realize, finally, that he is indeed gone, and gone for good. I don't ask for "one more day" or "one more touch", reality has come and I know those are things that I will not experience again until I join him in the heavens. I hope that day is a very, very long time off, though. I have his little man to raise and enjoy.

  So, on August 27th of this year, I will be remarried. Two years ago if someone had told me this would happen I would not have believed it even for a second. But, it's happened. This is not the same love that Brad and I shared; it's a more patient kind of love, without the constant fear or drama. It's a relaxed kind of love and I'm not worried all the time if Mike will come home, because I know he will. There is trust here that didn't exist at all with Brad. Brad's love was heart crushing from day one, but this new one is more heart-warming.

  Bradley Jr. is my miracle and he's getting so big, so smart, and such a handful. He'll be 4 in June. One thing is certain, there is no greater love that the one I hold for this boy. And I see his father in him every second I'm with him. However, we've decided that after Mike and I are married Mike will be adopting Bradley, and giving him his last name. This choice was not an easy one, but a practical one. I don't want Bradley to live in the shadow of his meth addicted father who committed suicide. I don't want him to live with that kind of history. Although it will always be there, I don't want him to be "Brad JR". I want him to have a better life; I want him to be just Bradley.

  We've moved out of Iowa to across the river in Illinois (Rock Island). Funny, I was living in Illinois when I met Brad. It's almost as though God took me back to where I was before it all started so that I could start over again. A new life. I still love and need those who have helped me through the most difficult period of my life, those who I met here on KCI. I still read the boards every single day, several times every day. I may not say much, but I still check it out. That's one thing I have not let go and am not sure if I really ever will or will ever want to. Sometimes I need to take a break and get away, or get busy with my new life, but something always draws me back to this place. It's like home. We all have one little, horrible thing in common, meth. So, that's my update. My life does go on, and I am happy. Who woulda thought?
  
  Thanks for taking the time to read this. Cyndi

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  Posted on March 3rd, 2011

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