mixelated

Thank you for reposting your story. I needed to hear that. I need more than anything right now to talk to or listen to other wives who loved their husbands, but who were also lost/confused/frustrated/angry and struggling with what bipolar disorder meant in their lives. I didn't know what to do. We had ten good years, happy family years. In my memory they have a golden glow around them, like sunshine. He had a job he loved, he was happy and strong. Then we had another ten years sliding steadily downhill, as he lost jobs, confidence, his ability to concentrate and his sense of self. Our equitable, respectful, supportive relationship eroded. By the time he was diagnosed with bipolar on top of his chronic pain, I hardly recognized the bitter, angry, inert and silent man he had become. I didn't recognize myself, either, and I hated the person I had become, making all the decisions, pushing for things to get done, resentful and anxious. We never fought, because we had both come from angry families and refused to bring arguments into our home. Instead we had silence, which started as respecting each other too much to lash out, but ended in a terrible barrier to communication. We respected each others' space too, and that also meant that it was much easier for him to hide what was happening to him. I keep going back to the day I lost my job last year, when I told him crying that he had to do something to contribute financially, that the stress was killing me, that I didn't want to threaten him with divorce but I had to consider it. I'd collapsed at work the week before when it was clear that the company was going under. I asked him to apply for SSI. I was at the end of my rope, too. I think he hung on for as long as he could after that. I know he tried to get help, but he didn't talk to me. I know he didn't want to burden me with it, since I was already stressed. But I feel so much like I failed him. The counter arguments I can bring up feel like rationalizations to try to put away my own responsibility. Reading the list of those drips of water that filled your husband's glass was helpful. I think I need to write out this list for my husband, too, to remind myself that things I said or didn't say weren't the biggest drop. At the bottom of it all, I do consider that my husband died of his illness, just as if he had cancer; it was terminal. But at least there would have been unbiased treatment for him. Any severe illness is cruel, but this one is burdened with so much uncertainty, prejudice and superstition that it adds needlessly to the suffering of the sick person and his family.

Hi. Three months out. New on this new board. Feeling very low and without words, but trying to engage with others and connect.

The sense of homesickness, the sense of waiting and emptiness... yearning for my old life that had my husband in it, happiness, and a whole family. Yes, I hear you. I am walking behind you at just three months, but I feel it and I guess I will for some time. I don't know if knowing that helps or not - anticipating so much emptiness and pain stretching ahead of me. Does it really help to have something to look forward to? All I can think of are those horrible 'firsts' - Father's Day, birthdays, our anniversary, holidays.