I moved into the basement. I finally had enough, and it feels good. I put myself first for once in my life.
Ive been married for almost 36 years, and I finally decided something for me.
To be fair, Living with someone who has mental health problems, isn’t always as straightforward as people think it would be, or do they even think that?
I found out several years ago, that my husband wasnt the person I thought he was. To say I was shocked doesn’t even describe how I felt, or reacted. I couldn’t function. It was not the man I married, or thought I married. Or was it?
Looking back, I think there were signs, but I didn’t realize those moments were signs of anything. I think I thought he was just going thru manopause, or something like that. I think I thought he was just struggling with getting older, and not doing all the things he used to do, like hockey, softball, etc.
Was I just avoiding what I really knew deep down? Down where your head and heart meet, and decide together, not to tell their person what is really happening, but to gently or not so gently let their person know that something is off, and that they need to wake up, stop avoiding what the head and heart know, and listen to their gut, where the head and heart live? (nice long run on sentence!)
After sort of dealing with certain issues, ,( he doesn’t like dealing with anything) we got a diagnosis that saddened me, angered me, and left me feeling so alone and helpless.
BI-POLAR.
Are you freakin kidding me!?
Lets step back for a sec.
I was a kid that grew up in foster care, till i was 9. Was adopted by a couple who had also adopted an older child. Years later, after death threats, verbal abuse, etc., he was diagnosed with schziophenia.
Being that child that didn’t have much stability, or security in life, the last thing I wanted to hear was that the man I married was mentally ill.
8 long years after my husbands diagnosis, 36 yrs after marrying him..
Here I am, in the basement.
To be continued…
Coffee Talk 