The beginning of the end....

I met a woman that was everything my wife was not. She was tiny, well groomed, materialistic, and what seemed to be down to earth. She was my rock during the first month or two of my separation.

We would have arguments, not unlike the ones that I had with my soon to be ex-wife. We blamed them on a lack of her willingness to communicate, the fact that I had to give my still wife a ton of money for bills, so our living arrangements were less than adequate.

Finally, I snapped. I remember screaming at her, in such a way that caused her to have a panic attack. I remember throwing shit across the front yard, and I remember how I don't remember. It was such a bizarre set of circumstances, that led up to it. They do not matter though, as there was no reason for my actions. So there I sat, in my car feeling like I had no control, no hope, nothing to fall back on. I walked into the emergency room. I didn't know if I was going to kill myself, or someone else, but I went somewhere where I couldn't.

I spent some time inpatient psych again. Only this time it was different. I was there on at least a 72 hour hold. Removed from friends and family, an hour away. When I finally met a doctor, after 5 minutes of writing in my chart, and reading what the counselors have written, low and behold, he claims I am bipolar. Zoloft and Depakote here I come.

Seriously? What in the hell did he know? What could he have possibly known about my situation. However, I took the meds as prescribed, figured it couldn't hurt. After my week stay at the fine accomadations of a psych hospital, I was released to continue with an outpatient program.

I had met a new doctor, one who would talk to me, and try to figure out what was happening, after a month of the Depakote, he said to try Zoloft and Klonopin to solve my problems. The bipolar issue did not exactly fit the bill that I had described as my life. So...I take this for a month, then two, whoa, wait a second, I FEEL THE EXACT SAME.

I can feel the rage overcome my body in moments of anger. I can feel the anxiety rush over me in uncertain moments. I still have dreams that involve, well....scary thoughts and actions.

I go to a new doctor, who spends approximately two minutes with me each visit. When I tell him the Zoloft and Klonopin make me feel no different, he ups my meds. Two months later, I repeat myself, he tells me there is nothing else he can do.......just continue to take the meds....

SERIOUSLY?

A fresh start maybe......

After the accident, I went through very hard times. Deep depression, that I cannot even place into words. I turned to my high school sweetheart to help me through this, and because of me being alone, so far away, we decided to get married.

My marriage was anything but bliss, because of my depresssion and hatred towards myself and pretty much everyone around me, I experienced pain as did my wife. From arguments to fights, to breaking things, to adultery, I was far from the ideal husband. Far from an ideal person.

Everything was blamed on the Marine Corps. I was not happy because of that, I was not happy for the day to day lifestyle I was forced to live. So when my discharge happened it should have been the happiest day of my life. For the most part, up until then, it was. We packed up our belongings and thought we would live in a normal civilian life like everyone else.

Fast forward again, this time four years. We have bought a house, two cars, a motorcycle, had a child, living the so-called American dream. Happiness, however was anything but a myth in our life. I was a recluse. Not wanting to venture out with my wife, not wanting to be with my wife. I blamed her, her lack of self-discipline for letting herself go. Her laziness around the house. Her lack of attention to me, to the family.

We fought so much. Money, bills, time spent together, stupid things, it didn't matter. Yet again, I blamed her. It wasn't my fault- it couldn't be my fault right? So, I gave up everything and left my wife. I thought it was just what I needed to move on with my life. What I needed to be happy. What my daughter needed for a good happy childhood. That she would be better off with two happy parents living apart, rather than an unhappily married family.