The start

Is there really a start? A start to what? To my drinking? To my abuse? To my failed attempts at happiness...well, up until last March anyway. March is when I started dating Dave. March is when I watched a frightened 8yr old transform into a happy boy. March is the first time I took a relationship sober, from alcohol, from pot, from alot of things. Its the first relationship EVER that I've been 100% honest, and proud of myself for that honesty. Its the first time I voiced when I wasnt happy about something, instead of cowering down afraid. Its the first time I could be who I wanted to be, act how I wanted to act, without fear of being insulted. Neat thing is, Dave's just as wierd as I am, but most of the time he's just better at it.

See, June 7, 2008, I was in a vicious accident, that nearly killed me. I was in a very abusive relationship, and I wanted out. But, the alcohol made me stay. Why? I don't know. It just did. In the course of 10 months, I'd gotten a broken nose, a broken cheekbone, and broke my right hand 3 times, all from fights with him. My son watched it all happen. I tore his heart out, and because I was drunk 99% of the time, I simply didnt care.
I'd broken alot of my family's hearts, including my brother Rob's. I'd call drunk, scream and cuss at him, telling his wife some of the most horridence lies I could come up with. I'd call my best friend in AL; I'd cuss her out (for God knows what) and nearly shattered that friendship. It seemed the only relationship I could have was the one with him.
So, the night I wanted out. I had all my clothes and things in trash bags, ready to leave. I'd called my mom, told her to come and get Robert. When she came, I told her I'd be home tonight, at their house. I told her to keep Robert until I got there. That was the night, I told myself. I was going to leave him and all of his abuse.

Thing was, my plan was not the same as his plan. Seems he wasnt going to let me go, and apparently, at no cost. It seemed to be, it was him...or no one. Now, alot of what happens next is after nearly 3 years of thinking over the scenerio again and again; getting my own medical records, talking to my son, talking to my mom, to my brothers, my best friend. I even went as far as getting the police report from that night. The only reason I didnt read it was I realized it would only raise more questions about what really happened that night.
Some time after midnight, I was pushed, or as he says, I "fell" from the second story balcony. He ended up falling too. Or jumping to make it look like an accident, who knows. Anyway, I went 25 feet down, landed straight on my head, on a concrete sidewalk. FYI, concrete does NOT give in to bone. I figured that part out.
My neighbor happened to be on her balcony, just coming outside to light up a smoke. All she saw was him and I falling. It was her that called 9-1-1. The fire department came, the EMTs came, the police came. From what was told to me, the police broke down the door, expecting to find my son in his room. They didnt find anyone.
The EMTs had a harder job. Some had to get him stable; others had to get me stable. But, now according to some medical records, I was found with blood coming out of my ears, curled up in a fetal position, and not breathing. I don't remember what happened to him. I do know, he didnt hit his head in any way. Abusive asshole.
One of the EMTs made the decision to have me flown to Aultman, a larger and more advanced hospital. So, they drove me via ambulance to the local Alliance Hospital, where I awaited a helicopter. Later, my mom told me there was a male nurse working in the ER that night. Apparently, he'd went home to his wife, also a nurse, and was saddened that they had to fly a "teenage girl" to have her heart removed.
That statement was actually true, in a sense. Yes, I had to fly there. No, I was not a teenage girl. Yes, they expected to remove my heart. At some point of time, a call was made to LifeBank to harvest my organs. And you know a worker for LifeBank was at Aultman in a minute, ready for someone to sign my organs over.
They intubated me in the ambulance; they flew me over to Aultman. The ER nurses ran blood work and had a CT Scan done of my entire body. They found a hematoma around my brain and called the on-call neuro-surgeon. While LifeBank was getting the forms ready for my mom to sign, Dr. Weiner asked her for one chance. He told her he believed that with a little work, he could save my life.
Prayers were said at my bedside. Pastor Tom was there, praying to God for some sign that I'd make it through this ordeal. He said just a split second later, my leg twitched. My sister in law Brandy and her mom Lori said that my breaths were too many for a person dying. They all agreed, something just wasnt right.