Separation Sucks
Last fall I fell into a deep depression, some because I am crazy, some because I worked full time but didn't have anyone help with my two beautiful kids. I had been seeing a psychiatrist for almost a year who prescribed me a new prescription nearly every month to treat my major depressive disorder. I always considered his professionalism as he nodded and said uh huh to everything I said while slurping a 32 oz fountain drink. By mid November I completely lost my shit. I couldn't get out of bed for a 3 day stretch, this was not a normal depressive cycle for me. I usually am like a roller coaster ride up one day down the next (which is happening again so time for a med check). What I didn't realize was that during this 3 days of "laying in bed" I was getting up and taking a handful of xanex with a glass of wine and going back, and then repeated this until I had taken 92 xanex and drank a full box of wine... the 5 bottle box, not 3.
My husband would periodically step in and holler, "You going to get out of bed today?" To which I imagine I replied to by rolling over and burying my head in a pillow. At the time, I just felt exhausted, and down and needed to rest, needed to escape. Finally on day 3 fully intoxicated on wine and pills he checked on me again and I mustered to leap out of bed, physically attack him and proceed to tell him everything wrong with him and our life. I can't remember what was said, he won't tell me but I'm guessing it was a very crude way of telling him how he didn't participate in our family life. I may have told him how every time I lug 10 bags of groceries in the house while he watches me that I daydream about throwing cans of vegetables at the back of his head, or that I flip him off most of the time his back is to me because he just pisses me off in general.
Shortly after this argument my sister stopped by the house because apparently I was replying to her text messages that made no sense and were not in any kind of full words. After spending 10 min with me she had me in the car taking me to the emergency room. My husband stood there still wondering what was going on. My heart rate was so low and I had taken the pills over a period of time so pumping my stomach was not an option, they just had to monitor my heart rate for a while to make sure I didn't drop dead I assume.
I spent two days in an isolation room with padded walls, when I finally started to come to and realized where I was and why I was there, I was both devastated and thankful. I couldn't believe that I wasn't strong enough to just buck up and be "normal". I was devastated that my husband ignored my cry for help and that I had nearly killed myself and he just continued his daily routine with the thought that I was just a lazy bitch. I checked myself into the mental ward for 72 hours because I was afraid if I didn't they would commit me. Most of my stay was a complete haze, but the blessing was that I came out of there with a great psychiatrist and psychologist that have given me the correct diagnosis, and medication and have kept me going for the last 8 months.
It took me a long time to accept that this was not an accidental overdose. I didn't just take a bottle of pills all at once, but I did want to die. I wanted to just shut off my brain, turn off the noise and the high's and low's and to stop being so exhausted with it all. I wanted to be done, at peace. I feel like a real asshole about not thinking more of my kids and what this would have done to them had a died. They are my main purpose in life and I can't imagine not getting to see them grow up.
The bad part was that I didn't actually have anywhere to go, my husband came to see me one time and for about 15 minutes, being in a mental ward to see his wife was too far out of his comfort zone and I'm sure embarrassing to him. What I did get out of that brief visit that I was not welcome at "his" home until I figured shit out and got better.
I was diagnosed bipolar, with major depressive disorder. I had been taking anti depressant - at least 8 different ones over several months and all of them seemed to have major side effects and made me more depressed. Once I had a proper diagnosis and the right kind of medication I began to get my shit together.
Thank God for everyone else in your life I was homeless not able to go back to work and flat broke. I stayed at my mom and sister's house for a couple of weeks and after realizing that they cared but didn't really understand what was going on with me it was time to move on. I stayed with my best friend for a few days, and then thankfully I had another friend with a rental house sitting empty that she offered for me to stay in as long as I needed I just had to pay the power and water. This girl by the way is amazing, she has been through struggles with health I don't know how anyone could live through and yet, she is so upbeat and kind and one of the most amazing people I know. At this point I wrote up a custody agreement to share the kids 50/50, I wanted them full time since my husband had barely taken care of them a day in their life but he wouldn't agree to that, it was like pulling teeth to have him let me see them at all. That was the worst time in my life - but thankfully he finally was willing to work something out with me.
I stayed in the house for about 4 months. There was still no acceptance to my going home to my husband and kids so I started looking for my own home. Rent for a 3 bedroom house or apartment was outrageous. I started to panic, I didn't know what I was going to do. I started talking one day to a coworker who said he was flipping a house in the neighborhood I grew up in. It was right in the middle between my husbands house and work, it was like it was meant to be. A mortgage payment was cheaper than rent, so we started the paperwork before the house was ready. By the time all the i's were dotted and the t's were crossed my house was move in ready.
I had to completely start over. I had my car and my clothes. My husband conveniently bought me my bedroom set, the appliances, patio furniture for holidays so since they are the essentials of a home I couldn't take anything with me. I had no money, no furniture, no clothes for my kids, but I had a home and it was mine. I also now have not only my full time job but two part time jobs as well. Seems like all I do is work, but it also keeps my mind off of whether or not I'm feeling up or down.
The agreement with my husband is that we are still married and abiding by the vows we took. Nothing is legal with our separation. We decided we would give living separately a couple of years to see what happens with us. We have always had trust so that is not an issue, but nothing has really changed either. He like everyone else keeps wishing me well and hopes that I will get better without taking a moment to listen to me when I explain that I have a disease, I am bipolar and I always will be. I'm never going to be "normal" all of the time and there is nothing I can do to control that. I regularly see my psychiatrist and psychologist and I am thankful for both of them. They are my light at the end of the tunnel on my good days and bad. They are the two people who don't make me feel bad for being who I am and of course my niece who props me up every time I need her (which can be often).
I am mostly alone in all of this, my husband, my family, his family - none of them understand what has and is happening to me, and they won't take the time to sit down and talk to me or learn about what bipolar is. I have stopped reaching out to them, I'm tired of hearing "are you taking care of yourself" "you need to get better" or "are you done being sick now"? Really??? Are you fucking kidding me, are any of you listening to what is coming out of your mouth? You know what -- You can all fuck off. I may not have said that to them, but I don't reach out to them and no one is stopping by or calling to chat.
As far as my marriage goes - I am so blessed to have two amazing kids that get me, they roll with it and they love me. I am sad that my family unit is broken, but I don't think I am sad about not being with my husband. I'm more upset about failing as a mother and wife. I can ride this out the way it is as long as needed, with or without my marriage being with someone else is not even on my mind. I don't ever want to take 13 years to get to know someone again only to figure out we don't know each other at all.
Well - there is the bulk of it, I mentioned something in an earlier post that I would get to this subject eventually so here it is. It feels good to put it out there for the universe, I've kept it pent up too long.
#separated #suicide #mental #bipolar #marriage
My husband would periodically step in and holler, "You going to get out of bed today?" To which I imagine I replied to by rolling over and burying my head in a pillow. At the time, I just felt exhausted, and down and needed to rest, needed to escape. Finally on day 3 fully intoxicated on wine and pills he checked on me again and I mustered to leap out of bed, physically attack him and proceed to tell him everything wrong with him and our life. I can't remember what was said, he won't tell me but I'm guessing it was a very crude way of telling him how he didn't participate in our family life. I may have told him how every time I lug 10 bags of groceries in the house while he watches me that I daydream about throwing cans of vegetables at the back of his head, or that I flip him off most of the time his back is to me because he just pisses me off in general.
Shortly after this argument my sister stopped by the house because apparently I was replying to her text messages that made no sense and were not in any kind of full words. After spending 10 min with me she had me in the car taking me to the emergency room. My husband stood there still wondering what was going on. My heart rate was so low and I had taken the pills over a period of time so pumping my stomach was not an option, they just had to monitor my heart rate for a while to make sure I didn't drop dead I assume.
I spent two days in an isolation room with padded walls, when I finally started to come to and realized where I was and why I was there, I was both devastated and thankful. I couldn't believe that I wasn't strong enough to just buck up and be "normal". I was devastated that my husband ignored my cry for help and that I had nearly killed myself and he just continued his daily routine with the thought that I was just a lazy bitch. I checked myself into the mental ward for 72 hours because I was afraid if I didn't they would commit me. Most of my stay was a complete haze, but the blessing was that I came out of there with a great psychiatrist and psychologist that have given me the correct diagnosis, and medication and have kept me going for the last 8 months.
It took me a long time to accept that this was not an accidental overdose. I didn't just take a bottle of pills all at once, but I did want to die. I wanted to just shut off my brain, turn off the noise and the high's and low's and to stop being so exhausted with it all. I wanted to be done, at peace. I feel like a real asshole about not thinking more of my kids and what this would have done to them had a died. They are my main purpose in life and I can't imagine not getting to see them grow up.
The bad part was that I didn't actually have anywhere to go, my husband came to see me one time and for about 15 minutes, being in a mental ward to see his wife was too far out of his comfort zone and I'm sure embarrassing to him. What I did get out of that brief visit that I was not welcome at "his" home until I figured shit out and got better.
I was diagnosed bipolar, with major depressive disorder. I had been taking anti depressant - at least 8 different ones over several months and all of them seemed to have major side effects and made me more depressed. Once I had a proper diagnosis and the right kind of medication I began to get my shit together.
Thank God for everyone else in your life I was homeless not able to go back to work and flat broke. I stayed at my mom and sister's house for a couple of weeks and after realizing that they cared but didn't really understand what was going on with me it was time to move on. I stayed with my best friend for a few days, and then thankfully I had another friend with a rental house sitting empty that she offered for me to stay in as long as I needed I just had to pay the power and water. This girl by the way is amazing, she has been through struggles with health I don't know how anyone could live through and yet, she is so upbeat and kind and one of the most amazing people I know. At this point I wrote up a custody agreement to share the kids 50/50, I wanted them full time since my husband had barely taken care of them a day in their life but he wouldn't agree to that, it was like pulling teeth to have him let me see them at all. That was the worst time in my life - but thankfully he finally was willing to work something out with me.
I stayed in the house for about 4 months. There was still no acceptance to my going home to my husband and kids so I started looking for my own home. Rent for a 3 bedroom house or apartment was outrageous. I started to panic, I didn't know what I was going to do. I started talking one day to a coworker who said he was flipping a house in the neighborhood I grew up in. It was right in the middle between my husbands house and work, it was like it was meant to be. A mortgage payment was cheaper than rent, so we started the paperwork before the house was ready. By the time all the i's were dotted and the t's were crossed my house was move in ready.
I had to completely start over. I had my car and my clothes. My husband conveniently bought me my bedroom set, the appliances, patio furniture for holidays so since they are the essentials of a home I couldn't take anything with me. I had no money, no furniture, no clothes for my kids, but I had a home and it was mine. I also now have not only my full time job but two part time jobs as well. Seems like all I do is work, but it also keeps my mind off of whether or not I'm feeling up or down.
The agreement with my husband is that we are still married and abiding by the vows we took. Nothing is legal with our separation. We decided we would give living separately a couple of years to see what happens with us. We have always had trust so that is not an issue, but nothing has really changed either. He like everyone else keeps wishing me well and hopes that I will get better without taking a moment to listen to me when I explain that I have a disease, I am bipolar and I always will be. I'm never going to be "normal" all of the time and there is nothing I can do to control that. I regularly see my psychiatrist and psychologist and I am thankful for both of them. They are my light at the end of the tunnel on my good days and bad. They are the two people who don't make me feel bad for being who I am and of course my niece who props me up every time I need her (which can be often).
I am mostly alone in all of this, my husband, my family, his family - none of them understand what has and is happening to me, and they won't take the time to sit down and talk to me or learn about what bipolar is. I have stopped reaching out to them, I'm tired of hearing "are you taking care of yourself" "you need to get better" or "are you done being sick now"? Really??? Are you fucking kidding me, are any of you listening to what is coming out of your mouth? You know what -- You can all fuck off. I may not have said that to them, but I don't reach out to them and no one is stopping by or calling to chat.
As far as my marriage goes - I am so blessed to have two amazing kids that get me, they roll with it and they love me. I am sad that my family unit is broken, but I don't think I am sad about not being with my husband. I'm more upset about failing as a mother and wife. I can ride this out the way it is as long as needed, with or without my marriage being with someone else is not even on my mind. I don't ever want to take 13 years to get to know someone again only to figure out we don't know each other at all.
Well - there is the bulk of it, I mentioned something in an earlier post that I would get to this subject eventually so here it is. It feels good to put it out there for the universe, I've kept it pent up too long.
#separated #suicide #mental #bipolar #marriage
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