silverwheel
Bluelighter
My wife and I have been living separately for almost a year now. We have a darling, smart, sweet 2-year-old daughter together. We have been excellent co-parents to her despite our problems, and my wife comes over to my apartment three times a week so I can spend time with my daughter, and we always have fun.
2013, the year Charlotte was born, should have been wonderful, but it turned into hell for the both of us. The plan was that I would stay home and raise her when my wife went back to work. Instead, I became seriously ill with fibromyalgia, severe enough that I have not been able to return to work or take care of Charlotte (I have applied for disability). Since the pain is mostly in my arms, I have trouble even holding her for too long (I also lost the ability to play the piano, previously my primary creative outlet). This also greatly aggravated my existing bipolar problems and sent me into severe depression, culminating in a hospital stay one year ago this month because I was going to jump off a nearby bridge. And unlike a conventional illness, it took a long time to arrive at a diagnosis for fibro, so neither my wife or I had any idea what we were dealing with. We were hurtful to each other, and got trapped in a terrible cycle of negativity.
Over the last year, I have finally found a medication combo that has controlled my bipolar, for the first time in my adult life. As I've grown older, my manic stages have morphed into a free-floating anger, untethered to anything real. I never knew that this energy could be removed, and I have seen just how much hurt I have caused without even trying. Though nether of us have filed for divorce, the marriage seemed all but over. And yet...
And yet over time we've begun enjoying each other's company more. We went to a movie last month (Jaws) and had a great time. Our conversations have gotten more open, and last weekend we seemed to get to a new level. We drove to visit my parents and brought Charlotte along, had a blast, and on the drive back, I finally got to say so many of the words that I have wanted to for a long time, mainly that I still have a lot of feelings for her, and that my heart is still really open to her. I still love her, and want so much to try again. I have had many dreams about this very conversation, and my heart finally got to do it for real. It's not a hopeless case - she still has feelings for me, too, so I'm officially trying to win her back. The flowers I got her the other day were well received, we linger when we hug, even a little cheek nuzzling, too. For the first time in my life, I'm able to be good company in the day-to-day, instead of constantly trying to dodge volatile, unpredictable moods. And getting much of this out of my head and into reality was exactly what my heart needed.
It's also creating its own kind of hell again. I know intellectually that I can't rush things, and that the only way to proceed is to keep doing what we've been doing lately. We'll see another movie next weekend, I'll get to spend time with her when she comes over with Charlotte, and we can watch some of our favorite show when she comes over (Masterchef). But opening this up again is harder and more painful than I ever expected. I've been anxious all this week, with my chest tight, feeling like I'm going to barf (not good, since I have problems with low appetite anyway). My heart sings when I see her, but I'm a wreck the rest of the time, crying multiple times a day, and I get so worked up that I can't come back down. I still have Ativan from my hospital stay, so I do have something to bring me back under control, and I'm not going to do anything to harm myself. It's just that this is what my heart needs to do, and the emotions are just too powerful and painful. It's still early in the game, so to speak, and I know that time and companionship are the only things that can bring our marriage back. But I love her so much, all I want to do is kiss her madly. My dreams have been almost exclusively focused on this, both good and bad. I keep crying hard, and I know there will be much more to come. It would be easier if there was nothing there. But there is something, and it's unleashed a torrent within me.
Walking through this is the hardest thing I've ever done. I feel more alone than I ever have in my life. I cry harder than I ever have. I wish there was an easier way through this, but there isn't.
2013, the year Charlotte was born, should have been wonderful, but it turned into hell for the both of us. The plan was that I would stay home and raise her when my wife went back to work. Instead, I became seriously ill with fibromyalgia, severe enough that I have not been able to return to work or take care of Charlotte (I have applied for disability). Since the pain is mostly in my arms, I have trouble even holding her for too long (I also lost the ability to play the piano, previously my primary creative outlet). This also greatly aggravated my existing bipolar problems and sent me into severe depression, culminating in a hospital stay one year ago this month because I was going to jump off a nearby bridge. And unlike a conventional illness, it took a long time to arrive at a diagnosis for fibro, so neither my wife or I had any idea what we were dealing with. We were hurtful to each other, and got trapped in a terrible cycle of negativity.
Over the last year, I have finally found a medication combo that has controlled my bipolar, for the first time in my adult life. As I've grown older, my manic stages have morphed into a free-floating anger, untethered to anything real. I never knew that this energy could be removed, and I have seen just how much hurt I have caused without even trying. Though nether of us have filed for divorce, the marriage seemed all but over. And yet...
And yet over time we've begun enjoying each other's company more. We went to a movie last month (Jaws) and had a great time. Our conversations have gotten more open, and last weekend we seemed to get to a new level. We drove to visit my parents and brought Charlotte along, had a blast, and on the drive back, I finally got to say so many of the words that I have wanted to for a long time, mainly that I still have a lot of feelings for her, and that my heart is still really open to her. I still love her, and want so much to try again. I have had many dreams about this very conversation, and my heart finally got to do it for real. It's not a hopeless case - she still has feelings for me, too, so I'm officially trying to win her back. The flowers I got her the other day were well received, we linger when we hug, even a little cheek nuzzling, too. For the first time in my life, I'm able to be good company in the day-to-day, instead of constantly trying to dodge volatile, unpredictable moods. And getting much of this out of my head and into reality was exactly what my heart needed.
It's also creating its own kind of hell again. I know intellectually that I can't rush things, and that the only way to proceed is to keep doing what we've been doing lately. We'll see another movie next weekend, I'll get to spend time with her when she comes over with Charlotte, and we can watch some of our favorite show when she comes over (Masterchef). But opening this up again is harder and more painful than I ever expected. I've been anxious all this week, with my chest tight, feeling like I'm going to barf (not good, since I have problems with low appetite anyway). My heart sings when I see her, but I'm a wreck the rest of the time, crying multiple times a day, and I get so worked up that I can't come back down. I still have Ativan from my hospital stay, so I do have something to bring me back under control, and I'm not going to do anything to harm myself. It's just that this is what my heart needs to do, and the emotions are just too powerful and painful. It's still early in the game, so to speak, and I know that time and companionship are the only things that can bring our marriage back. But I love her so much, all I want to do is kiss her madly. My dreams have been almost exclusively focused on this, both good and bad. I keep crying hard, and I know there will be much more to come. It would be easier if there was nothing there. But there is something, and it's unleashed a torrent within me.
Walking through this is the hardest thing I've ever done. I feel more alone than I ever have in my life. I cry harder than I ever have. I wish there was an easier way through this, but there isn't.
