I recently lost my whole mind after my husband decided he couldn’t put up with me anymore. The erratic behavior proved to be the undoing. You couldn’t find my arse. All medications went abandoned when he left because I needed to absorb every bit of the out-of-control I’d grown fond of lately. I can’t say I blame him since I’ve been battling a mental disorder or affliction some of the time we’ve been together. When he left, I couldn’t fathom what life would be now without him or having someone around to accept the things that were “wrong” with me. I’ve discovered that there ain’t a dang thang wrong with me--he's unable to accept all these Netflix movies in my head at once.
His reasons for leaving were twofold. The up and down, and I can’t be what he needs me to be. What the f#@! does that really mean? It means that he was tired--plain and simple. I got “sick” after 5-years of marriage. Like I wanted to and he expected me to be the same person when I was trying to figure out what was going on in my brain. My up-and-down behavior became too much for him as he wanted things quiet and simple. He never wanted to fight or understand why I stopped being what I used to be. The change like I was She-Hulk all became my fault regardless of any trauma I experienced in the past. It became more about him, and I got tired of the judgmental comments and looks--like he was someone that shouldn't be living with me. I thought I needed him, but now that he is gone, I don’t feel like a catholic nun is following me around with a ruler taking notes of everything I do that he doesn't like. That doesn’t mean I don’t miss what we used to have or love him for that matter, but that life we led is gone. It’s been gone for some time.
The prize is that I can work on myself without the pressure of impacting someone else. I have a much better respect for my clients and the in and out days. Since my diagnosis, working to maintain a relationship and working on ME was too hard. Way too hard! I will always love him—the him I knew then, but I have to be a better person for myself. People don’t understand that you’re startin’ all over. Being with my group members allows me to peer into their lives and see similar challenges. Therapy helps me talk through the ME I want, and the pills keep me high in a straight line. My husband is gone, but I have spoken with him a few times and realize this is better for him. I know he loves the person I used to be but who I used to be isn’t the person. It's like I mentally went from a Dodge Caravan to an Audi Q7. I'm moving fast, and I don't need to wait for someone to catch up to me and still not understand what I'm going through even if I explain it.