Things have changed a lot since the last time I updated the blog. I apologize to my readers for not keeping up, but things around here have been busy and chaotic.
So, in August of 2018, Marcus and I decided to move to Weatherford. We couldn’t find jobs where we were living and decided that it was time to try our luck near the metroplex. Marcus found a job right off the bat. It took me a couple of weeks, but I found something, and it wasn’t all that great so I found something else. A month later, after finding his first job out here, he quit. He said that it was due to his anxiety, which I could definitely understand; I was upset because we were supposed to be saving for our own place. So he quits and the deal was that he was supposed to be looking for a new job to replace the one he just quit. He went on a couple of interviews, filled out some applications.
Fast forward three months, he still doesn’t have a job. During these three months, we started seeing MHMR here in town. He changed medication and started skipping doses and stopped taking it all together. His attitude changed. He became more depressed. He had a passive suicidal episode for two nights in a row. He would ignore me during the day and get mad when I would fall asleep after taking my night medications. Things just got weird. He was rude, lazy — he wouldn’t help around the house, he just sat on the couch on his phone all day, and just weird. This person living with me and my mom wasn’t the man I married. When I would confront him about his behavior he would ignore me. When I would ask him about getting a job, because at this point he wasn’t even trying to look for a job, he would say that he gave me six months. There was a time, two years ago, when I got really sick and had to leave the workforce for a good six months. My mom confronted him one day, and told him he needed to get a job by the first of the year, he was not happy.
The first of the year rolls around, and he still doesn’t have a job. Needless to say, my mom isn’t happy. He’s still not doing anything around the house other than sitting on his phone. He’s not taking care of Rockee or anything. Just sitting on his phone all day. Finally, I get in his face, because I’m tired of the behavior and tell him straight up how it’s going to be. He needs to get a job, stop ignoring me, help around the house, get his stuff together or get out. He looked shocked, but I’d had enough. I couldn’t take walking on eggshells anymore, and I couldn’t take being ignored. And when I wasn’t being ignored, he would gaslight me. When I would say something hurt my feelings or something he would tell me that it didn’t happen that way. Nothing was ever his fault or anything. Like I said, things just got weird. I had enough. So, when I got in his face and everything, the behavior changed for a day. He was pleasant and he was talking more.
A couple of weeks later, things are back to the way they were. He’s trying to get accepted into a trucking school. I have a Saturday off and I have some things to do, like laundry because neither one of us have clothes. He wants to go to his parents’ house because the school needs a W-2 from last year, and it’s in a file cabinet in storage. He told me all week that I didn’t have to go because Saturday was my one day off and he knew I was tired. Well, Saturday comes and he’s asking me if I’m going. I told him no, because I had things to do. And he gets mad because I didn’t want to go. He said “You should want to go!” I told him it wasn’t because I didn’t want to go, it’s just that I had things to do. He took off that night and stayed the night. He was supposed to come back that Monday but he didn’t. When I called him, he said he didn’t know when he would be home. He stayed away for a week and a half and came back when he was supposed to start school. The day he started school, I found profiles on his Instagram that he was following of half naked people. I got really mad, and that was the last straw. I’d had enough. I was done being ignored and bullied when he wasn’t ignoring me. And then to find that? No wonder he was spending so much time on his phone…. So he went to school and I called his parents to pick him up. Worst. Idea. Ever. They called him before I could. He was mad when I did get to talk to him. And I completely understand. So Mom and I packed his stuff. It was waiting for him when he got home. He took off in my car and I didn’t hear from him for a while. His parents started to ignore my calls and everything.
A New Reality
I filed for divorce on February 15. I signed the car over to him so I could get most of my stuff out of storage, so when I move out I’m going to have to start over…again…
We tried to make another go of it. That lasted two weeks. It just felt forced and fake. He still had the same behavior and attitude. And I was apprehensive about the whole thing. Finally, it came time for him to take his CDL test, and I kept asking him what happens when he takes his test. He said that he will go over the road. And I asked what happens to us. He shut me down. He said that I should be supportive. And then he left and I haven’t heard from him since. I thought that maybe I would hear from him when they served him papers, but I didn’t.
This is for the best though. I’m thankful for him and the love he gave me when it was there. I miss him sometimes. But I don’t miss how he treated me. He became a toxic person in my life and people have noticed the difference in me. They say that I’m happier and that I glow when I smile.
The divorce should be done some time next month. I just need to finish paying the fees and we will be done.
To be honest, I haven’t been this happy in a long time. I wish him well, I pray for safe travels for him, and I hope he finds everything that he’s looking for in this life.
Today we celebrated our second wedding anniversary.
It’s been a crazy two years of marriage. I didn’t think it would be like this.
We met in college. A little college, that is growing in students now, in Stephenville. It was 2010. And I liked him, but I was with someone else at the time. Had I known what waited for me there, I would have chosen him then and there. But life, life has other plans. We went our separate ways and lost touch for a long time.
It wasn’t until I started this blog and the Facebook page that we reconnected. He found my page and liked it. Eventually he messaged me and we started talking again.
Our first date was on July 18, 2014. We went to San Antonio to watch DCI at the alamodome. I remember asking “what are we?”
After that, we were together long distance. We made plans to move in together and it happened.
It was rough the first few months, I’ll admit. We were learning to live together, both of us independent and set in our ways.
He had never seen the ugly side of my disorder, very few people did. Sometimes it came out, and he was there, always there for me.
We decided that, if we could put up with each other and our differences and quirks we wanted to get married. We were in love. We were close to each other, there for each other.
We got married on September 19, 2015. It was a beautiful little ceremony. My veil got stuck in the door as I came in. He surprised me with wearing a tux! He was so handsome. I was so nervous! He talked to me the whole ceremony to make sure I didn’t freak out, because I was on the verge of a panic attack. He was sick with pneumonia, but he was able to enjoy our wedding. It was beautiful.
Since then, things have been chaotic. He’s been sick with something that doctors aren’t sure what it is. The neurologist just said “we’re going to call it Upper Motor Neuron Disease, but I don’t think that’s what it is.” We’ve been in and out of hospitals trying to treat it, seeing doctors from all over the place trying to get a proper diagnosis.
My mental health hasn’t always been that great. I will cycle from being ok and stable to being suicidal with a plan in just a few minutes time. And when I go that low it’s hard for me to come out, but he’s always there for me. I’m more stable now. I still cycle, but I feel better. And he’s still there for me.
I had the opportunity to be there for him recently. It got so bad that we had to go inpatient. But he’s better now.
The point is, two years ago, I has no idea life would throw so many challenges our way. But because of those challenges, we are closer than ever. I’ve never been this close to anyone in my life, other than my mom. I can tell him anything and everything. And when we get upset with each other we talk about it instead of letting it fester. He’s my best friend and my soul mate. I don’t want anyone else but him. If I had the chance to choose him again, I would do it in a heartbeat.
He’s my favorite person and the one I want to spend all my time with, and it hard to be apart (yes, I know my BPD is showing.)
Two years and we have 3 dogs and 1 cat, we have a home that we are restoring, we have a plan for what to do with that home. We have a lot going on but we’re together and stronger than ever.
I love you baby. Happy 2 years with many more to come!
These are words spoken in wedding vows and they mean so much to me.
When we got married, I figured that I would be the one with the bad days. Having Bipolar Disorder gives you some ups and downs in life, days where getting out of bed is a feat in itself. But I found someone who has grounded me in safety and security. And when I have a bad day, it’s not as bad as it used to be.
Now, I take care of him. And some times, it’s not easy to do. Not because I don’t want to do it, I would do anything for him. I would change the world for him if I could. But some times, it’s difficult to watch.
I remember a test that we had to do, to see how his muscles responded to stimuli. No one prepared me, when we took vows, that in sickness and health meant watching a doctor basically torture your husband for a test. A test that he needed, but you could tell that it was painful.
“In sickness and health”, we really think of the healthy times. I see families together being happy, you don’t want to think about what happens when someone gets sick. And some times people think that sickness means just a simple cold or something. But a medical mystery? That’s something entirely different.
It’s been an adventure. With the good days and and the bad days, I can tell you that we have taken our vows seriously. We take care of each other. We take turns some times, and some days we take care of each other at the same time.
They don’t tell you, when you take those vows that you’re going to worry. Or that you’re going to want to know more, that you’re going to try to research everything you can to try and figure this out. They don’t tell you that you’re going to call every doctor several times a week just to get an appointment, or a certain medication refilled, or an MRI scheduled. They don’t tell you all of this.
But they can’t tell you that it makes you stronger. That it makes your marriage better. Love and marriage, sickness and health, it takes work. You have to want to work on it – I’ve seen illness tear people apart. But, for us, I feel like this adventure has made us stronger and made us love each other better.
I know in my heart that I love my husband more and more every day. I want to be with him and take care of him, no matter where this takes us. I want to grow our family together. This has brought us closer than I ever thought possible.
To my husband, I am so proud of you for being you. For waking up each day and fighting your battle. For loving me like you do. You are an amazing man with such strength, we can only keep going from here. Together, we will make it through this. You give me courage and strength when I need it. I will always be here for you. I’m proud of all of your accomplishments. I love you to the moon and back, Siempre por Siempre.
One year ago, in two more days, I was hospitalized for my depression. I was suicidal. I had a plan. I was going to take all the pills in the house, drink a bottle of alcohol, and die in my bed with a note that said I was sorry.
I was going to die. I was ready to die. I was sorry that I couldn’t make everyone happy, let alone make myself happy. I was sorry for everything and sorry that I couldn’t make it right.
But I told my counselor. I told someone what I was going to do. And they suggested hospitalization. I cried, for the entire hour I was there. I cried on the way home. I cried while packing. I cried to my best friend. I cried on the way to the clinic to get assessed, and on the way to the hospital. I was scared and worried. But my husband reassured me that this is what would be good for me to do. It wasn’t to harm me, it was to help me.
So, I got to the hospital. Intake took forever. But, Justin was there with me and was calming me, holding my hand and loving me and all my shortcomings. He was my rock when I was in the storm.
The hospital was fine. The first night was scary. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. They strip-searched me, which was scary and embarrassing, but I didn’t have to do the “squat and cough” thing, because, fortunately for me, I was on my period at the time. I got settled into my room and fell asleep.
The week to follow was great actually. I was pretty much stress free. I saw a doctor everyday and attended group therapy, which was really more of a joke than anything. I was able to call everyone everyday. I missed my friends and family though. I was able to see people Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.
I guess I knew then that things weren’t right at home. I was gone for a week and I knew that Justin was up to god knows what. We didn’t have much trust, but I was hoping that this was his wake up call. When I got back home, I wasn’t so depressed, until it came time for me to go back to work.
Work was a major stressor. I had panic attacks before and during work. The last night that I worked, I panicked and went home an hour after being there. Justin was pissed that I left early, I was just glad that I was able to go home.
I should have known then that things were different. That things weren’t the same at all, everything was a mess in my marriage. But I looked over it with the thought that he was just stressed out because of my episodes. I never realized how he really felt, because he kept everything so deep down inside of himself. When I asked him if he wanted out, he had said no. We lived like this for months.
It’s crazy how much can change in a year. I was diagnosed with Major Depressive disorder and PTSD in the hospital. My diagnosis has changed to Bipolar II disorder, Borderline personality disorder, and PTSD. I’m getting my medications checked on monthly, I’m attending therapy with my case manager Lisa, and I’m sleeping when my body tells me I’m tired. I am blogging more, whether it’s on here or on my Facebook page. I’m talking to people. I’m taking baby-steps to get back where I was. I’m making huge strides in becoming more self-aware. I am learning what I can handle and what I can’t, learning to put up boundaries for myself and my sanity. I’m learning to take better care of myself, like showering daily (yes, I know that sounds stupid) and washing my face each night. I’m learning to let things go. I’m learning what I want in life.
I’m doing a lot for myself. And I’m taking this time to reflect on my time in the hospital and all the trials that led up to that point. I’m visiting this moment with the knowledge that I am no longer that person that I was a year ago and that’s OK. I realize that I was in a down swing, and it’s ok to have those moments and that I will have more of those moments in the future. The goal is to let those moments pass and know that the sun will rise through the darkest night. I realize that my marriage falling apart wasn’t my fault, and that I did everything I was supposed to. It’s ok to visit these moments and reflect on what they offer, and then we need to move on.
My problem is the moving on part. While I realize it does no good to dwell on the past, my heart is still broken over these events. Eventually, with therapy and support from those I love, I will be able to turn the page from this chapter of my life and move on to the next. I have some faith and hope that things will turn around for me in the future. That I will find the one I’m supposed to be with and love with all my heart. Justin was not a good man for me. And that’s ok that I learned that lesson.
A year ago, I was a different person. It’s time to turn the page.