When The Sh*t Hits The Fan

alone

When two people with mental health issues live together, certain challenges present themselves and add to the difficulties already present. I myself have a diagnosis of Bipolar 1 (along with several co-morbid “buddies” that often go hand in hand with said disorder), and the man I am dedicated to in life is diagnosed with bipolar (along with other co-morbid “buddies” as well), but the kicker is the diagnosis of “Intermittent Explosive Disorder”. I will do another post soon about that specific disorder, but lets just say that it  is a brutal issue to combat. It turns the man I love with all my soul into someone I don’t recognize. Not only that, but I am treated as though I am nobody special, even less than strangers. In fact, during an episode… I am spoken to with what sounds like loathing and fervent rage, but if a neighbor, or someone else comes along, they are spoken to with kindness and respect… something foreign to the way I am treated during these IED (Intermittent Explosive Disorder) moments.

It is a very lonely place to be when the anger is directed at you simply because you are the person closest. Even if he is trying with all his strength NOT to lash out at me (which I know is exactly what he is concentrating on), it is very lonely to be on my end of it. While he is trying to battle his anxiety, and his automatic “this is a disaster” thought process, he is completely incapable of offering help or suggestions, nor demonstrate any type of loving, supportive gestures to help encourage me as I do all I can to rectify the situation.

Yet…  I still help my man to my fullest capacity, and attempt to support him. I do all I can to fix the problem without turning it into some horrible difficult issue… I remain calm, cool, and collected, trying to keep him informed of what I am doing to fix the situation.  Even if his tone of voice is derogatory, or he emanates anger… I do all I can to help, reminding myself that this isn’t the “true” him, and he is fighting to come back to who he truly is.

Though I know this isn’t him per say, it still hurts… I still feel as though I am wilting away. I try to be a step ahead so I can predict what is needed… and I do it for him without hesitation… all the while, tears flood my eyes, and I keep my head low to hide them. They are a sign of weakness to him when he is this person… so I keep silent, don’t argue, stay busy, put on that loving smile I am great at wearing, and I keep my head down…

All the while, somehow, in someway…

I am breaking.

Knowing full well that when things come full circle,

He will return full of love and grace, and his loving embrace will encompass me…

And what once felt broken…

He will make whole… and then I am home.

©thebipolarmuse 2018