My wife has Bipolar 2 Disorder (BP2). This has been devastating for her and getting her help is the most important thing (and we are getting her help), but this thread is going to be selfish. It’s not about her. It’s about me. I’m struggling.
We met in 1991 and married in 1993. We have two children and four grandchildren. I am retired, but I work pretty often driving a motorcoach for a charter company. My wife works full time for a public mental healthcare provider. Our kids and grandkids are healthy and stable. My wife and I are not wealthy, but we are financially secure. We have everything we need, most of what we want, and the financial freedom to do the things important to us. In other words, our cup runneth over. On paper, these should be the happiest days of our lives.
But BP2 has robbed us.
In truth, we have probably had issues with BP2 throughout our lives together, we just didn’t realize it. We’ve had the squabbles that couples have. Usually, they’ve been over trivial things; sometimes more important things. About a year ago, all that changed. I lost my wife. The woman in my house usually looks like my wife, but that is about all that is left.
She was diagnosed by a psychiatrist with BP2 about two months ago. She has begun a medication treatment, but finding just the right chemistry is taking time. In the meantime, life is a living hell.
Mania doesn’t seem to be much of an issue. If manic episodes have happened, they’ve been when I’m not around. I think there have been some, but I haven’t experienced them directly. The downswings, however? Lordy. My wife says she feels either sad or irritable all the time.
This is killing me.
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Sometimes, she says the meanest, most cruel things to me.
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She sends me hateful text messages while I’m at work. (“I fucking hate you for leaving.” is a popular one.)
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She has broken pictures of us as a couple that we had displayed at home. I don’t even know where they are right now.
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She has put holes and dents in walls and doors by throwing things at them.
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She broke some “World’s greatest teacher” type stuff given to me by my own children when they were students in my class. (I was a school band director before retirement.)
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Most of the time, she doesn’t say a word to me. Yesterday, she came in from work. I greeted her with a hug. She stood there and took it. I fixed supper for the both of us. She prepared her plate and ate it. She answers any questions from me with one-syllable answers. “How was your day?” “Fine.”, etc. When she went up to bed, she didn’t say anything like “Good night” or whatever. Sometimes, she leaves the house without a word. I don’t know where she goes or what she is doing.
I know it is the BP2 talking. I know not to take it personally. But it hurts. It hurts a LOT. My wife is gone and I can’t find her. Her voice is even different. She speaks in a low and husky voice instead of her usual pleasant timbre. She sits scrunched up in her chair as small as she can be.
I know she is hurting and I know this is even more awful for her. But it’s killing me.
I could go on about how it’s negatively impacting our marriage, but I’ll stop for now.
Thanks for reading. Just typing it out is cathartic.