MY TURN

I was prepared to die. I accepted my fate.

No one knows where I am. I didn't radio in. I didn't call home. I was alone.

I wondered: "What if the same thing happens to me?"

Being uncoupled is a terrifying thing—especially when you've been married as long as I had.

My time is spent in too many doctor's appointments to count.

I blamed my husband because I didn't see how I was doing anything wrong.

I'm working with a very interesting family right now who has a 24-year-old female in a relationship with a 52-year-old male.

I would force myself to do crazy high-intensity exercise routines and always felt like I was dying.

I will never stop trying to read every single last word he wrote.

I had no choice but to remain composed, unless I wanted to be labeled with the angry Black woman stereotype.

At 27, I discovered what cocaine can do. I would wake up and snort it on the car ride to work, all day at work, and all evening.

I remember collapsing on the kitchen floor, I remember screaming. I didn't say words, I couldn't.