My husband is Bipolar II and often has rages he doesn’t remember and are verbally and emotionally taken out on me. This diagnosis came after three years of GI issues that kept him from eating. So he wasted away until I was able to find accessible MJ because the doctors didn’t care enough to give him options on how to eat. Didn’t admit him. Nothing. Test after test came back normal so they gave up. He ended up in the hospital last year on the brink of death and they only pumped him full of every heavy duty drug they had. Something worked, fortunately. But as he physically got healthier, his manic depression came back full force. He talks about killing himself every day. It breaks my heart that we struggled for so long to get him healthy and still… Psych meds are only increasing his depression and anger and lack of self worth. Can’t talk to the doctors because none of them listen. They only throw more pills at him and don’t care what the family copes with. I love him so much, but this man isn’t my husband. I’m so scared I’ll end up alone, one way or the other, and will never see my Love again. I cry every day. Many times. And I can’t talk to him about any if it as it will only flare an episode of God-only-knows-what. He is so so sad and I can’t help. What he doesn’t know is I’m down there with him, but keep going for him. I’m so scared, every minute of every day, of losing my small family that I fought so hard to keep for years. I’m so afraid that the cops may need to be called during an “episode” and that it’ll end the same as all of the news stories: don’t help the man, just shoot him. And shoot the dogs too.
I’m so scared. I hate this world. Neither of us deserves this. But the s*** keeps coming.