Author: erinreeve

My husband gets discharged tomorrow. He’s been in there two weeks and will be getting ECT round 3 treatment 5 tomorrow.

I’m glad he’ll be coming home soon. But I’m scared too. What if he’s still just lying??? I mean, I don’t think he is, but I didn’t think he was all last month either. I just don’t know.

But I guess this is choosing to trust him again, because I’m not giving up. I suppose I should say that I’m choosing to act like I trust him, in the hopes that real trust will develop again. So we’ll see.

I’m still scared, though.

I wrote him a whole letter today basically asking him to honestly give therapy another shot, and trying to state the reasons I think that he should. Im going to ask him about it tomorrow. I need to stop being hesitant to talk about this kind of thing with him in person…we’re both pretty non-confrontational and that really doesn’t work so well for resolving issues.

We’ll see what happens. Going forward hopefully, if cautiously and alertly.

Nothing new yet.  Yesterday we were both feeling pretty damned depressed and I had to try really hard not to cry while I was visiting him.  He’s upset because he doesn’t feel like his doctors care about what he says and how he feels; this came up because he had his second ECT treatment yesterday and wasn’t feeling any better at all.  He says that he’s told his doctors that the treatments are being less and less effective but that they keep wanting him to take them anyway.  He doesn’t care enough to argue.

It feels more painful and depressing this time – for me.  I know that it probably isn’t, and I re-read my entries from when he was in the hospital the first time.  They seem sad enough.  But I’m having a really hard time with this right now.  I’m so afraid that he’ll keep doing this until it’s too late and he’s dead.  I’m SO afraid of that. 

I’ve started praying more this time.  I don’t know if it helps or not, and I kind of doubt that it does, but it might and I don’t want to miss out on anything that might possibly help. 

I left a message with a potential therapist yesterday afternoon, and I hope she calls back today.  I need some advise.  I need to talk to someone about this.  I’ve been writing letters to my husband every day (just because it makes me feel a little more connected to him, I suppose) and can’t seem to stop myself from gushing all over the place about how sad I am and how much I miss him.  I feel bad about it because he needs to be focused on HIM and not me right now (not that he is…), but I asked him last night if it makes him feel bad when I do that and he said yes and no.  It makes him sad, sure, but he said that it also makes him feel loved. 

Anyway.

Another whole week gone. And at least a week – probably more like ten to fourteen days is more like – to go.

I’m so sad tonight.

I called to get some counseling referrals but haven’t called to make an appointment yet. When it comes down to it, I think I do feel like going to see a therapist is a little weak and self-involved. I know, it’s silly. But I couldn’t bring myself to call yesterday at lunch, staring at the list of names.

But I need to see someone. I need advise (council) from a trained professional. I don’t know what I’m doing at all, or how to tell what’s best for me to do. I’m also, I think, afraid that whoever I see will judge me for staying with him. I just feel like the normal statute of limitations is pretty damned close, and though I don’t want to leave him at all I’m just wary of what people might think. Especially if I was to tell them what he told me standing atop that building at the hospital. I feel like a moron for just wishing I could ignore that, write it off to his drunkenness and deep depression. But … should I put a knife under my side of the bed, just in case? Do I need to be nervous?

.………………………..((((sigh))))………………………….

He texted me while I was home on lunch yesterday. “I’m sorry this is all so unfair to you. I really wish it were different.” I replied that as long as he doesn’t want to die every day, I’m fine. He says, “But that’s the problem. I want to die. I won’t event ell the truth to the doc, either.” The next text said, “I’m lying when I say that I’m stable. You should never trust me.” Then, “Know that I’m sorry. No words can ever make up for the lies I’ve told, but you should know that my heart breaks for the things I’ve done to you. When I splat, I’ll be thinking of you.”

I drove out there immediately. He wouldn’t tell me where he was. After 48 minutes, his phone died and I found the police in the ER and asked them for help.

Here’s what he said to me during the phone call and after seeing him at the ER.

That he’d been planning this for a month.

That he’d stopped taking his medicine 5 days ago…and lied to my face about it.

That he tells his doctors that he is afraid of the morbid OCD thoughts, but he actually likes them. He wants to hurt people. He wants to hurt me. He mouthed, “I will fucking kill you” to me in the ER. He wished he’d slit my throat last night because that would have made dying today a lot easier.

That he hates me.

That every day when he wakes up, he wishes he’d died in his sleep. He has nothing to look forward to except cold, dark death.

That I’m cruel to let him go on suffering like this. His life is misery. That if I loved him, I would let him die instead of forcing him to keep living.

That the only goal he has been able to hold on to and motivate him to keep living is finding a woman. Nothing else has worked, even music which he wanted to work most of all.

That I should never trust him.

I don’t even know what to do. Why can’t I help him? WHY DOESN’T HE WANT HELP?????????????

Things are still going…okay.

I almost feel like we’re in limbo as his moods are still up and down. They have been mostly up for the last month, but we’re obviously still getting the ECT treatments which should tell you there’s something still wrong. The treatments aren’t meant to be a permanent fix, but I’ve heard that they’re supposed to last longer than a week. His antidepressant still isn’t helping, and if it was going to then it should have kicked in by now.

Last week we cut ties with his therapist. I think that making the change was encouraging to my husband because he felt better after making that decision. He emailed a different therapist on Saturday but hasn’t heard back yet – at least he hasn’t emailed back (he may have called).

The constant ups and downs and starting to get to me. I know that he can’t help it and that I can’t hold it against him, and this makes me feel bad about saying anything period (I haven’t). But the constant neediness…is better than constant depression, but still makes me feel like I’m in limbo. Oh how I love stability. I almost want to go back to letting him have his moods and keeping myself distant from them, but I feel like he’s in a very unstable place right now and needs my help – needs to know that I care about his feelings and don’t want to let him keep them all to himself anymore. I guess I’m getting what I asked for then – he’s definitely opening up more now than he did before. I’m glad that he’s trying to communicate with me more – SO glad. It’s super selfish of me, but I’m balking against all the drama this is bringing into my life.

The inevitability of human drama………… I try so hard to avoid it.

I can see that my husband is making positive steps toward progress. This weekend, he told his parents about the abuse and I was very proud of him for doing it on his own. I don’t know that it’s necessarily helped anything yet, but I think that it’s one more step towards letting go of all that baggage and the false beliefs that go along with it.

I wish I could do more to help. I just want to fix it as fast as I can….but I can’t. I can just help. I think I’m going to need to find myself a therapist before all this is over – I don’t really think I can handle it by myself. Every day is a new day, but I don’t like my husband’s mood having to dictate my mood. It doesn’t necessarily work that way, but I still start to worry about him when I know he isn’t feeling well and he doesn’t text me often enough.  

Tomorrow will be three weeks since my husband was discharged from the hospital. 

Last Friday, he had to go back to get another treatment because they had started wearing off, he said, and I could tell that the demons were starting to come back. 

I described them as “demons” to someone in the hospital on the day I took him to the ER, and she was very interested in that word choice, asking if it was my wording or his.  I’m pretty sure that it’s not his word choice, but I think it’s an apt description because it almost feels like someone else is inside his brain sometimes, making him want to do bad things to himself – and other people sometimes.  He says he doesn’t know why it comes, how to get rid of it, or how to describe it.  But it can be frightening to look into his eyes and be near him while he’s like this.  He has never hurt me before (physically, anyway), and I want to keep it that way. 

Noticing the demons popping up again was a huge motivation to get him back to the hospital for another ECT treatment.  His doctors were very accommodating and were able to see him within about 2-3 days after I contacted them.  He felt markedly better when I picked him up after the treatment, and has another one scheduled for this coming Friday.  I hope that this won’t be a weekly occurrence for the rest of our lives, but his antidepressant doesn’t seem to be helping still, and his therapist doesn’t either. 

And how am I?  I’m taking it a day at a time, I suppose.  I’m not relaxed yet.  I’m ready for his mood to change at any time.  I’m very hopeful about the future and very glad that the ECT is working, though.  Overall my mood is good, though I’m not exercising or being as organized as I would like to be.  In an ideal world, I would keep the house spotless all the time, exercise daily, and make all three meals at home.  Right now I’m happy when I do one of those things in a day. 

Even though things aren’t perfect, they’re so much better than last month that I’m very happy with our lives at the moment.  We’re making good progress and I’m determined to never let it get that bad again. 

It’s his second night at home. I should be happy, I know – I was last night. But I’m actually still feeling neglected. Why? I’m not 100% sure, but I think mostly it’s because I feel like I care more about him than he cares about me. We’re both very selfish people of course, but I just feel like he should be more interested in ME to the exclusion of other things. As I think I am. But then there’s the question of how rational that is. Because he does pay attention to me and care about me – just not to the extent that I want him to. He’s over there asleep right now. It really makes me sad but I don’t think it should. Uggggggggh. How am I supposed to be rational but not apologize for my feelings at the same time???

Fuck.

I’m sitting here on the couch, having gotten home from work about 15 minutes ago, and I feel like shit.

I don’t want to feel like shit.  But I don’t know how to help it.

Maybe there is some resentment in there.  Why can’t my husband want to live? — it’s really not asking all that much!  Why can’t he appreciate me?  I do so fucking much for him.  Why can’t he be here for me when I need comfort, a hug, to have sex, a back rub, someone else to make dinner – really, when I need anything?

I need my husband.  I need him to tell me that he loves me.  Tell me that I’m doing an amazing job and that he’s proud that I’m his wife.  It’s not fair that I’ve been the strong one for the last year, and he’s been the one who’s focused on himself and only talks to me when I make him.

I know, I know.  Life isn’t fair.  Anyone who says otherwise is selling something.  (Goes for life being pain, too.)

But why does it have to be this way?  For my part, I feel like I’m doing a ridiculously good job of holding up the marriage bargain and that if I was married to me, we’d have a great relationship.  Sure, there would be fights and misunderstandings sometimes – there always are.  But there wouldn’t be attempted suicides and abandonment.

Fuck.

He’s not feeling any better today. He asked me if I will cry a lot when he kills himself. He told me that I never should have taken him to the hospital. He told me that if I had just left him alone, it would have reduced my grief (since now I’ll have to deal with this again when he does die, was his implication).

He did call me tonight to tell me goodnight. I’m not sure what to take from that, but I want to believe that it’s a good thing.

I’m trying to be hopeful and look forward to his second and third treatments on Monday and Wednesday. I feel like I’m trying so hard to be as encouraging and positive and loving as I can, but it’s not making any difference. It’s upsetting.

I spent some time with his brother last night, who is also missing his spouse – but his situation is a divorce. He said that I should be angry at my husband for treating me like this. I agree that I don’t deserve to be treated like this; I think I do a pretty fair job of being the kind of wife I would want to have. I’m not angry at him… at least as long as he is not talking about how he still is planning to kill himself. Tonight after seeing him, I did want to hit something. I don’t understand how he could feel that way. It’s offensive. It’s like a slap in the face, only much worse.