I asked Mandy to write down what took place after I blacked out and went back to that place. This is what she wrote. I have altered very little of it for safety sake. Please consider this as a form of therapy.

The morning after proved to be different. I have seen Doug cry about some of the things he has lived through in his life before we became committed to one another. Things like being a Marine and having to cope with the fact that his wife (ex-wife) hurt him while he was serving our country, or the fact that his daughters mother moved her half way across the country and he couldn’t see her much at all, but those were things that his adult mind had lived through and he was just letting it out because of the place he had come to since that time in his life. But this time was different.

This time he was scared. He was extremely worried about protecting his family and himself. He was concerned about being prepared. It was as if he were back in time to when he was little and he was trying to hide. But at the same time he was an adult and was trying to do what the adult Doug could do to protect the child Doug.

This is my attempt at telling it like it is happening now. It was about a month ago so some of it is faded.

We finished eating the breakfast I brought home after taking the kids to school. Even as you ate, you weren’t really here; you were in another place in your mind. I can’t explain it, I just felt it. After the food was gone, (this part is hazy, so some small details are missing) at some point I am finally able to talk you into going to bed. I put your flip flops on (as I have done a million times before when you drink to this point) and attempt to help you stand. We are clumsy but we get to a standing position but by this point you are scared. (You may have even been talking about it all as we were eating, more than likely) With your arms around me, I try with all I am to hold you strong and not wobble so we don’t fall. You are very very tipsy and I just want to get you to the bed because I am worried about the amount of alcohol in your system. But we stand in one place for approximately 15 minutes with you hanging on me and crying so hard. You are crying like you are watching someone die. It is a huge amount of anguish and pain and it is just pouring out of you now. I am trying very hard to hold you lovingly and firmly as to first, keep us both standing, and second, to be there as strong and caring as you need. The pain you are letting out is real because I start to cry with you, but knowing the kind of man you are, I don’t want you to know so I quickly try to separate myself from this so you don’t feel you made me sad or scared. While all of this is going on, it is really strange to me because I really don’t think that you are here in this moment of time. Your body is here, but you are not. It is like you are a receiver while at the other end is the child who is scared out of his own comprehension and sending it out, like there are 2 walkie talkies spread across time and space. And inside I wonder if that is why you were able to be so mature, strong, and behaved as a child, were you constantly communicating with yourself across the relative idea of time?

After that 15 minutes passes, I am able to bring you to this realm long enough to help you see that we need to go to bed. So we head into the room and into the bathroom, you use the restroom and then brush your teeth. (I don’t remember all of the words you spoke, but I do know that everything you said, you had to say it 3 times) You were off and on crying and sobbing and scared of “him”. He is coming and we must be ready. You repeatedly put me in the position of being Arlene. You are crying because HE will drag me from the car and put my breasts in light sockets. You say this over and over, with such pain in your voice. You insist that we get the guns out and load them. This scares me because of having children in the house, but I have learned from growing up around alcohol, you pick your battles. I know it will make you feel safe and that you are protecting us if this is all ready. So you unlock the safe and pour the xxxxxxx gun shells all over the floor and start to load the clip. You are fumbling with this because you are hardly able to hold your eyes open as you sob in fear, saying everything in 3's. I take the shells and load 1 or 2 of the clips and hand them to you and you fearfully hold them and sob more multiplied by 3 the same things you have said for about an hour now. I ask you not to load the xxxxxxx gun and just lay the clip beside the gun on the floor next to you. You accept and I now help you pull your clothes off. You never stop triple repeating the same things through you your tears. All about how you are sorry you brought me and the kids and Amber and Edward into this life. How you are sorry, sorry, sorry. You hold all responsibility in all that involved this situation with Arlene and Tony. You repeated his name many time, but mostly refer to him as “Him or He” I turn on your breathing machine and help you put it on and cover your head with your blanket and you still try to repeat things but slowly stop completing sentences and settle in and you are asleep and I lay there just trying to even slightly relate to your fear and pain. I don’t feel worthy most of the time.

Now comes the event of early this morning (Jan 4, 2011, like 3 am)

I am asleep and you come in and lay beside me on my side of the bed which immediately wakes me since you never lay over there. You begin to repeatedly say you are sorry for bringing me into this life, and Ashli. You only mention me and Ashli. You eventually end up with your knees on the floor and your head on my belly and you cry. You force yourself to stop crying, I can feel it. You don’t really do the repeat by 3's but you do repeat a few things. I think this repeats are just to feel that you get your point across. You now place Ashli in Arlene's place and you begin to graphically describe “him” pulling her from our car, she is being ripped apart, the rocks are ripping her apart, and she is screaming (and you scream quietly) and now she is in pieces and you sob painfully as you tell me that you can’t put her back together and you tell me you are sorry. I think you say sorry at least 6 times in a row, each time, but only 2 or 3 times and then you stop. I tell you how I accept that I won’t be able to hold on to my kids forever and that I know this is part of life. You go right back into that place. I know that my words will make no impact so I just listen and rub your back and let you release yourself of the pain. This time you had very little fear and more relief and grief in your voice. Your pain wasn’t as intense this time. I say to you that you should come to bed, you tell me that the Army sleeps with you, the Marines stand watch and sleep while I am awake. But when I say it again in a little bit you agree and get undressed and brush your teeth and get into the bed. You even bring me a drink of water. But once you are lying beside me, you begin to let the tears go. You held them in and now you can’t hold strong anymore. You talk about my dad being a good man and how we need to buy him a xxxxxxx gun and ammo with our student loans and I must promise to take Ashli and the guns and run through the woods to my dad’s so he can protect us, and that we need to make a bunker at his house. You don’t pull out the clips, which I know the ones I loaded that night before, are still loaded. You don’t give me the feeling of dreadful fear like before. It is almost like you are mourning. Maybe mourning the passing of all the pain you have carried knowing something that you never were allowed to talk about or feel about. Once again (and I don’t mind because it makes me feel important and special to do so) I help you put your mask on, and I take your little blanket and cover your head and you still cry about “him” coming. But your words and actions are two different things. You are not as determined this time to protect us. You are more like re-running the whole thing like it is ok to say goodbye.

When I wake up, I know that you have confessed yourself on facebook as always. and I get on to see. I was surprised to see that most of what you say is about how your mom was not to blame. You are accepting of her learning period and that she loves you and always did. I was happy to see this. You gave her forgiveness for all of it and gave her understanding of why she did what she did. You talk about how it wasn’t as bad as we all would think, and you ask us not to hate her. But I don’t like that you always call yourself a monster. If she isn’t a monster, than neither are you....

I will add to this as time goes on. If more memories come to me, I will add them. And if there are future times similar to this, I will add them to this file. I love you Doug. To know that I am helping you through some things in your life make me feel so good inside. I try to give to you comfort and peace and as long as you want it, I will give it! I love you, to the young Doug of about 5 or 6 and to the older Doug of 42. I love you both.