So, last night a friend asked me what I was going to write about today and I told him that I would probably write about how I have to take my whole laptop apart in order to install my new battery because the one I currently have in it is fried (All my own fault, since after I replaced it the last time I stupidly left it on the charger 24/7. I know, I’m an idiot lol). I said I would probably also talk about how I have had my phone privileges taken away by my kids since I somehow screwed up our family icloud the last time I tried to do something in the settings on my phone (I can sorta understand why my privileges have been revoked with how much work it took for my kids to fix what I did). But as it turns out, I don’t feel like talking about that tonight. Instead I have decided to post something I wrote a few weeks ago when I was feeling a little down. I didn’t post it then because I didn’t want to offend anyone, but I have been wanting to put it on here ever since and think tonight is as good a time as any to share this with you all. I’ll post it below for you all.
(Written on 6/18/2018)
Lately I’ve been reading a lot of stories about people struggling with mental health issues. The stories are almost always sad (yes they are fiction, but I honestly believe that there is truth lying underneath almost all fiction) and although some of them end on a hopeful note, in reality I wonder how many real world stories end positive. In my own experience with being with someone afflicted by a mental health disorder, things did not end well for any of us. My ex-husband suffered from Bipolar disorder. He lived with a lot of heartache, but refused to get the help he really needed. It took a toll on our relationship (we were still young when it all fell apart) and left me with scars that still run very deep. I watched as he self medicated with alcohol for more years than I wanted to. His alcoholism and diagnosis corrupted a second marriage for him. As we all watched the impending train wreck coming down the tracks of his life he eventually lost everything. Sometimes there is no saving someone. Sometimes no matter how hard you try to pick up the pieces of their catastrophe, there are just too many shards left scattered in their wake. He was found dead on December 8th, 2014 and even four years later we still feel the loss and deal with the lingering grief and hurt feelings. Mental health issues are absolutely devastating for families and if the person is unwilling to seek help with their issues, those around them end up feeling helpless. I know I did. Sometimes the thoughts try to creep into my head, the words that haunt me still to this day. It’s like a big flashing neon sign that reads FAILURE that powers on when my mind looks back at his past and his passing. I should probably avoid reading anything that has to do with the subject matter, but sometimes there is no mention of mental illness in the description. That’s how I ended up reading the book I’m currently knee deep in right now, which has lead to my melancholia. Hopefully not too long after I finish the last page, I’ll be back to good spirits.
