I Had to Change My Life
There are moments in life that shake you to your core—moments that force you to stop, take a hard look at your reality, and make a decision that will alter the course of your future. For me, that moment came on a Saturday night, the night before Father’s Day, when my husband at the time attempted to take his own life on the night of June 16, 2022.
He had just returned from a gathering at a game store. Despite having COVID, he refused to stay home, a choice that was not unusual for him at the time. Earlier that evening, before he left, I asked if we could talk about our marriage and where we should go from there. We were both miserable, trapped in a cycle that neither of us seemed to know how to break. His medications weren’t titrated correctly, and it didn’t take much to set him off. So, when I mentioned, “Where do we go now?” his world must have felt like it was crumbling beneath him.
He left without finishing the conversation.
A Quiet Return, A Devastating Revelation
I didn’t realize he had come home until I saw him sitting at his desk. I was heading outside to chlorinate the pool and put away the accessories for the night. He seemed calm—almost peaceful—which should have struck me as unusual, but at that moment, I didn’t think much of it. As I reached for the door, he stood up and walked past me into the foyer. “I’m going to lay down for a little bit and rest,” he said. It was just before 9:00 PM. A bit early for him to call it a night, but nothing that raised immediate concern.
I was outside for about 15 minutes tending to pool maintenance and putting away pool floats before coming back in and heading upstairs. The door to the room he was resting in was shut. Unbeknownst to me, life for all of us in that house was about to change forever.
The Text That Changed Everything
I picked up my phone and noticed a message from him.
“I will always love you, Kristin.”
Instantly, I knew something was wrong.
A cold wave of panic rushed over me as I hurried downstairs and into the room where he was. My heart pounded as I asked him what he had done. He remained calm and simply asked me to leave him alone. I ran out of the room and into his office. That’s when I saw his computer screen. The words, “I am not a coward anymore,” were displayed across it.
I looked down and initially saw two empty bottles of over-the-counter sleeping pills on his desk. It wasn’t until he held up those four fingers that I went back to his desk and discovered the other two empty bottles.
My mind went into overdrive. I ran back to him, demanding to know how many he had taken. At one point, he raised four fingers, indicating he had taken four bottles of sleeping pills. Again, he told me to leave him alone. My hands shook as I pulled out my phone. I threatened to call 911, expecting him to fight me on it, to react in anger. But he didn’t.
He just… laid there and didn’t move.
The Defining Moment That Led to Change
The next few minutes were a blur. I called for help. Paramedics arrived—27 minutes after my initial 911 call. Chaos unfolded in a way I never could have anticipated. And in those moments, as I fought to save his life, I realized that something had to change. I had to change.
I couldn’t keep living in a cycle of trauma and crisis. I couldn’t keep pouring from an empty cup, trying to fix something that was irreparably broken. At that moment, I knew my life had to take a new direction—one that prioritized my well-being, my healing, and ultimately, my future.
Moving Forward
I knew I had to change my life not just for myself, but for my kids. In doing so, I would be able to help my husband recover, because at the time I had this realization, I didn’t know he had fallen into a coma and that doctors had no idea if he had suffered any permanent neurological damage from the overdose.
That night, life as I knew it fractured. It would take time—painful, difficult time—to rebuild. But one thing was certain: I could no longer exist in survival mode. I had to reclaim myself, not just for me, but for those who depended on me.
For me, this was the moment I knew I had to change my life.
The minute-by-minute breakdown of that night, the emotions that ran through me, and the impact it had on every aspect of my life will come at a different time. But for now, I want to share this: Sometimes, change isn’t a choice. It’s a necessity.
This was the beginning of my transformation. And though the road ahead was uncertain, one truth remained clear: I was never going to be the same again.