Ah, Drama

Some days, I hate the transparency of social media.  This is one of those days.

Sometime in April, my former fiance, Bob, committed suicide. I say "sometime in April" because no one really knows when - he wasn't found for nearly 2 weeks.  He had been physically ill for some time and, more importantly, severely depressed for months.  We had broken up around Thanksgiving, but it still hit me hard.  During the time that he was going downhill, I had started Medifast.  I was choosing to get healthy.  He was allowing himself to get sicker.  I had been trying for months to get him to fight for himself - change doctors as the one he had wasn't helping, do some research into what exercise a person with COPD could do, walk around the block, eat better.  I mean, I'm no nutritionist, but I'm pretty sure that Velveeta is not a miracle food, regardless of what Bob said.

Anyway, we broke up.  He got sicker.  And chose to end it.  We had a wonderful memorial service for him at which I sang.  I am still considered family by his mother and siblings.

Yesterday would have been his 61st birthday.  Which brings me back to social media.

People were posting birthday wishes on his Facebook page, which his son has kept going.  Then along comes his ex-wife, whom he divorced 40 years ago, commenting on his page.  She had been given his private journal to read by their son and been given "friend" status after he died.  She started making comments yesterday about how she would have been there for him if she had known he was no longer engaged.  There is no woman in the world that Bob disliked more than his ex-wife, and these comments didn't set well with his sisters.  This morning, there are new posts.  She is now publicly blaming Bob's mother and I for his death.  And I have been blocked from the page.  Needless to say, his sisters are pretty upset and have asked for the page to be removed.

Ah, the drama!  Bob hated drama.  And to have it being played out on his page in his name is simply shameful.  Regardless of what is said about me, it is just vile to walk on his memory this way.  His private journals were not written for anyone to read, especially not his ex-wife.  I never read them.  I never asked to.  They were private.  His grasp on reality was already slipping when we broke up.  I can only imagine what it was by the time he died.

No one was to blame for his death.  Depression and mental illness were behind it, but he was the one who made the choice.  Lets just let the the poor man rest.  He is not here.  He doesn't care about the mama drama.  He is busy playing his drums in a band with Joplin, Hendrix, Morrison and Lennon!