The day I left Chase he gave me a concussion, a huge hematoma on the side of my head, 3 broken ribs and a ruptured spleen.

I had spent years planning and plotting elaborate breakup plans. Chase isn’t the sharpest tool in the box but we have a son together, and he’s also a towering man with a short temper. So it wasn’t easy to leave. I knew that he wasn’t going to just let me walk away.

We lived in NYC before our son was born and although we went from paycheck to paycheck, they were some of the best years of our lives. We were happy. But everything changed so quickly when Chase got a new job in LA, working in the entertainment industry. We were constantly expected to be at dinners and events which is when he began drinking heavily. It didn’t take long for the drugs and infidelity to follow. Sure, I had some fun times and met powerful people, but his habits were spiralling out of control and he kept letting us down.

We tried rehab several times. We tried counseling. I thought I could get the old Chase back, but he’s the kind that goes wherever the crowd is, wherever the attention, the hype and the power is. So that’s what he kept doing and things just got worse.

What scared me more than anything else toward the end of our relationship, was the way I had started to think. One morning I walked downstairs and discovered he’d been up all night doing blow. I was like “Wow, you’re still doing this?” He was so messed up. Slurring his words he said “I think you better call an ambulance.” I looked at him and I was like “No, I think it’s probably time that you just go ahead and die.”

On the last day I wound up in hospital surrounded by doctors and police officers. I can’t remember her name but the Latina officer who was there for me was so kind and empathetic. She said to me, “Dios está contigo.” God is with you. I knew in that moment my prayers had been answered. I physically felt a heavy sadness and burden completely lift from me. I knew it was over and that everything was going to be ok.