My husband gave me a gift the other night, and it's the best I've ever received.
Let's back up a second.
After being diagnosed with Bipolar II a few months ago, I began using Trileptal to treat my aching, broken brain. Being me, I was too, whatever, to ask my doctor for a refill, so I was existing on a lesser dose for awhile, before the shrink gave me shit and a new prescription. I upped my dose, then upped it again, as instructed.
The last move upwards triggered what I can only call a crazy manic episode. I was smilely, I was giggly, I was yappy and amused and glowing. I felt like I had taken speed. Nothing bothered me. Not a thing. I was walking on air.
I was also a wee bit violent, something I remember from my past. When I'd get happy, I'd "lash" out in a way that I thought was friendly but was, apparently, hurtful and annoying. It's like I can't contain the feeling, and I need to vent it out like that.
The Dorf was a little irritated, and bothered by it. After the second night of it, he was more than a little irritated, and we had a major fight at 2 am.
Not a fight, not really, more like a purging.
I have to admit something right now-one of the best parts of being drugged is actually feeling the love I have for him, feeling it deep down in my belly, where it started so many years ago. I almost can't stand knowing how much in LOVE with him I am, how he still makes me giggle so, how he laughs at my lame jokes, how comfortable we are. There has never been, never was any moments of awkwardness between us, no uncomfortable silences, just like I had been gone and I came home. And it's amazing to think he loves me back like this, and that we love our kids and our life.
Got a little spun there didn't I...
In the midst of our fight/not fight, he broke down. I was getting my back up because it seemed like he was attacking the treatment, and not allowing it enough time, and I was so angry because finally, I found something that worked and it was wonderful!
But no, he was scared. Scared of losing ME, the person who had emerged in the past few weeks, the person he had glimpsed from time to time, the girl he fell in love with so long ago. He felt like I was disappearing before his eyes, and there was nothing he could do.
It was terrible, he said, to be happy for the first time in a long time, and to watch it slowly slipping away.
And it is. It was. I'm so afraid that these pills will one day stop working, and he'll finally give up and take the kids and go. I'm afraid everytime I get mad at one of the girls that something might snap. Life on the bipolar express with kids and a husband and all that jazz sometimes seems harder than I'd like, and I'm worried that I'm not up the the task.
But he gave me the gift of knowing how deeply in love with me he really is. And for a girl that always felt unlovable, ugly and stupid, it really is the best gift ever.
Let's back up a second.
After being diagnosed with Bipolar II a few months ago, I began using Trileptal to treat my aching, broken brain. Being me, I was too, whatever, to ask my doctor for a refill, so I was existing on a lesser dose for awhile, before the shrink gave me shit and a new prescription. I upped my dose, then upped it again, as instructed.
The last move upwards triggered what I can only call a crazy manic episode. I was smilely, I was giggly, I was yappy and amused and glowing. I felt like I had taken speed. Nothing bothered me. Not a thing. I was walking on air.
I was also a wee bit violent, something I remember from my past. When I'd get happy, I'd "lash" out in a way that I thought was friendly but was, apparently, hurtful and annoying. It's like I can't contain the feeling, and I need to vent it out like that.
The Dorf was a little irritated, and bothered by it. After the second night of it, he was more than a little irritated, and we had a major fight at 2 am.
Not a fight, not really, more like a purging.
I have to admit something right now-one of the best parts of being drugged is actually feeling the love I have for him, feeling it deep down in my belly, where it started so many years ago. I almost can't stand knowing how much in LOVE with him I am, how he still makes me giggle so, how he laughs at my lame jokes, how comfortable we are. There has never been, never was any moments of awkwardness between us, no uncomfortable silences, just like I had been gone and I came home. And it's amazing to think he loves me back like this, and that we love our kids and our life.
Got a little spun there didn't I...
In the midst of our fight/not fight, he broke down. I was getting my back up because it seemed like he was attacking the treatment, and not allowing it enough time, and I was so angry because finally, I found something that worked and it was wonderful!
But no, he was scared. Scared of losing ME, the person who had emerged in the past few weeks, the person he had glimpsed from time to time, the girl he fell in love with so long ago. He felt like I was disappearing before his eyes, and there was nothing he could do.
It was terrible, he said, to be happy for the first time in a long time, and to watch it slowly slipping away.
And it is. It was. I'm so afraid that these pills will one day stop working, and he'll finally give up and take the kids and go. I'm afraid everytime I get mad at one of the girls that something might snap. Life on the bipolar express with kids and a husband and all that jazz sometimes seems harder than I'd like, and I'm worried that I'm not up the the task.
But he gave me the gift of knowing how deeply in love with me he really is. And for a girl that always felt unlovable, ugly and stupid, it really is the best gift ever.
My D makes me feel exactly the same way. No matter what horrible mood I'm in, no matter if I do or say terrible things, he never stops loving me. It's always amazing, because sometimes our childhoods (and even adulthoods) prevent us from believing that such people can possibly exist. I always believed that no one could possibly love me the way that I am.
When I was in the deepest pit of depression, D was there. Even if he didn't understand, he was there.
I think we are lucky women, huh?
Posted by
Brianne |
2:32 p.m.
I have one like that and I've never figured out how I got so lucky.
Posted by
Granny |
2:27 a.m.
At the risk of sounding endlessly cheesy I have to say it: AWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!
That's great, Dor.
Posted by
Anonymous |
10:21 p.m.
I share your view of love for my husband.
I suffer many depressive episodes, and I'm sure will suffer more as time goes on.
Thru the years tho, my husband has withstood it all. Even when I could not see the light of day, he would come find me with a flashlight. He is my beacon of hope, my ray of light, my reason to continue on each and every day.
I have never quite figgered out why, but am forever grateful he will stand by my side until the end of time.
Sometimes we need to take time to appreciate the strong men in our lives. Well said!
Posted by
Anonymous |
11:00 a.m.