It's been forever since I had a  chance to write.    (I had dial - up internet and it wouldn't save). 

I had been reflecting on my husband's first episode.  When I left off, it was Thursday, Aug. 17, 2006 - the day before our 22nd anniversary, and I had just left him in the hospital.

Went home that night and slept suprisingly well.  I finally felt that he was in a safe place, and that he would be getting the help he needed and would be home within a couple of days.

His sister called me early in the morning to say he had called her and asked her to tell me he was sorry about what he had done last night and would I please forgive him.  (Figured he meant the fake "throwing up").

He called a little while later to say that he had been moved from the general psych. area to the intensive psych. area, but he couldn't remember what he had done.  In the intensive psych., no visitors were allowed.  I was crushed  - I wouldn't even be able to see him and it was our anniversary.

I called the nurse's station to ask what happened, and they wouldn't tell me anything about what was going on, his condition, or anything. They said it would be against the privacy laws, and if I wanted to know how he was doing, I should ask him  - the same person who thought he was god the day before, and couldn't remember what happened.

We had a few more calls during the day.  These went between apologizing to angrily demanding I come and get him out immediately.  I was confused and lost and didn't know where to turn.    

I fell asleep crying that night.

I left off with the morning of Aug., 16, 2006.  I had taken my husband to emergency the night before becuase he was displaying very bizare behavior.  The ER doctor had released him, not believeingthat he was having a very bad reaction to meds. he was taking.

He seemed calmer in the morning.  We were even laughing and joking a little about his behavior the night before.  He had an appt. with his doctor to check out the diverticulitus, so we began to get ready.

When it was time to leave for the doctor's, he seemed a little anxious and went into the bathroom.  He was in for quite a while, so I went to check on him.  He was laying face down on the floor, arms outstreched, and naked.  He refused to respond, although he was awake. 

I called the doctor and said we wouldn't make it.  Then, called his MD and explained what was going on.  He said if I could get him to the hospital, he would make sure they admited him to the psych. ward for evaluation.

My husband got up, got dressed, and went into the other bathroom.  His eyes were completely blank, as if he couldn't see or hear me at all.  He turned on the shower, and walked in, completely dressed.

He came out, again laughing uncontrollably and completely euphoric.  He asked me if I could see the angels in the backyard.  He started saying how wonderful everything was - great news, it was the 2nd coming of Jesus, etc. He talked of the nuclear explosion and how amazed he was that we all survived it.  He wanted to see his MD and tell him about the great news.  So, I convinced him we should go to the hospital and talk to him.  (I know it was a trick, but didn't really want him to have to go with the police).

I called his brother, a state highway patrol officer, to help me, just in case he tried to jump out of the car or something.  He wanted to sit in the far back seat of the van, luckily, not near the door, because he was afraid the sun would burn him if it was shining on him. 

We spent hours in the ER, waiting for a bed so he could be admitted.  He was hallucinating, claiming to be God, saying his MD was God, etc. the whole time.  The sedative they gave him didn't touch it.  We went to the hospital of his choice, although my sister is a psych. nurse at another hospital.  She was on vacation, anyway, and I didn't think it would take long for him to get better.

He was finally admitted and I went home, completely exhausted.  I needed to get his clothes and stuff together and get back to the hospital for visiting within a couple of hours.

Visiting did not go well.  He was very angry with me for taking him there.  He was still taking about the nuclear explosion and asked if I had seen it on the news.  I tried to be polite and not argue.  Shortly before visitng was over, he stood up and pretended to be vomiting on me, then took off running down the hall.  I left in tears, not knowing what to think.

At this time of year, it seems natural to reflect on things.  I've realized that I haven't really come to terms with the stress and pain my husband's bipolar disorder has caused.  So, I thought it might help to get it out in the open.

 Up until August, 2006, I had a happy marriage.  My husband and I were like best friends, sharing everything.  I knew I could always count on him to be there for me.  He was a wonderful father to our 3 children.   Like all things in life, it wasn't perfect, but it was very close.

On Aug. 7th, 2006, my husband came home from work with severe stomach pain.  We thought it was appendicidis or something like that.  I drove him to emergency.  After a long day there, they diagnosed severe diverticulitus.  His intestine was badly infected, with a possiblity of a rupture.  He was hospitalized for a week, with no food or water to allow his intestine to "rest".  He was given strong antibiotics.  While there, he complained about how dirty the hospital was.  He had worked there when we were first married.  After 5 days, he was better, didn't need surgery and was allowed to come home.

At home, things began smoothly at first.  He started talking to all his family members on the phone a lot, which was unusual, but I figured  realizing he was mortal had shocked him up a little.   He also began to watch CNN a lot.  He wanted to find and contact friends he hadn't seen since elementary school, and was writing a lot of letters.   He than started to cry uncontrolably sometimes, so unlike himself. 

On Aug. 15, (Tue) his mother contacted me very concerned with the things he was saying on the phone, saying he seemed to be losing touch with reality.  Since he was making his calls privately from the bedroom, I hadn't heard the converstions.  She asked me to check the side effects on his antibiotics.  I had my sister, a pharmacy tech. check.  Sure enough, one of the meds. could cause mental /mood changes.  I called his doctor and described what was happening and they immediately switched his meds.  It was going to take 3 days to get out of his systom, though.  Perfect timing, I thought, because he would be back to normal by the 18th, our  22nd anniverary.

I explained what was going on to my husband, that he was reacting badly to the meds.  He argued with me at first, saying he was feeling great and seeing things more clearly than ever,  but finally accepted it. (I had no experience than to see it was turning into a full manic episode).

To my dissappointment, by Wed., he was no better and even seemed worse.  I took it in stride, though, still believing he would be better by Fri.  Wednesday evening, he woke up from a nap and was completely different.  He was laughing uncontrollably, squeezing me very tightly, and just so unlike I'd ever seen him before.  My oldest daughter grabbed up my son and fled to my mom's house.  I'm still grateful he didn't see it.

My husband then began to try to take off his clothes and run outside.  I had to keep stopping him, but he would just giggle and try again.  I called his parents and my sister to see if they could help me get him to the hospital.  By the time they got there, it was clear he would need to go by ambulence.  I called 911 and they took him.

At the hospital, I explained to the emergency room doctor what was going on.  He didn't believe me.  My husband's blood work came back positive for marijuana, and the doctor said that was what was causing it.  I knew he had smoked a little, but knew it was  not recently and not that day.  I didn't think it could have caused such an extreme reaction, anyway.  The doctor insisted that I take him back home.  I tried to argue asking what I should do if it happened again.  He said to call the police to handle it!

He did seem calmer, and we went home.  All night, he paced around the house, not sleeping.  I was watchful, but he did seem to be improving.  Only 1 more day until Friday, so maybe he was going to get better.

This is how my wild roller-coaster ride began.

I am enjoying my days off for X-mas break.  Lots of time to reflect and think about things, and get in touch with my feelings again.  I've realized that I haven't really overcome the shock and pain of what I've been going through these past 17 months.  I think later, I will journal about all the events that have led me to where I am today.  I need to get it out so that I can begin to let it go.

But for right now, my big concern is that my husband has another manic episode coming on.  He is talking faster and more.  Yesterday, he went to a kitchen supply store and bought some stuff.  It's all usable, but not anything that we really needed.  Just a little out of character for him.   Also, late last night, he decided to mop the floors in the kitchen and dining room.   Again, nice and helpful but a little odd.

 He also took a copy of  our daughter's movie, Phantom of the Opera, to his mother's so she can watch it.  This has me a little worried because right before his initial manic psychosis, he was obsessed with that movie.  He kept talking about the "hidden meaning" which really creeped us out.  He even wrote a letter to the director of the hospital about it.  (Luckily, I stalled him from mailing it).  He hasn't mentioned that movie in all this time since then, and it just seems strange that he wanted his mom to see it suddenly.

Maybe, hopefully, I'm reading too much into things.  I am so worried about getting caught off guard again that perhaps I'm watching too closely, putting motives on things that have none.  We are supposed to go out for dinner tonight, just the two of us, so maybe I'll get a better feel for things then.

Now that Christmas is over,  I'm on break and I have a little extra time to think.  My holiday went well; we made it through all the traditions.  My husband has been pretty stablelately, which is always good.   He is spending our time off playing with our son a lot.  It's good to see them reconnect so positively.

 I should be very happy, but I think I have too much spare time, too much time to think.  I'm feeling a little down and hopeless.  There's no reason, really.

 My husband got me diamond earrings for X-mas.  lt was so sweet.  Several weeks ago I had told him I didn't want any presents.  (The thought of causing him stress from shopping, which he hates).  Then, there was a commercial on for the earrings.  I jokingly said he could get me those, never thinking he would take it seriously.  But he really did.  So, do I wear them or keep them ready to go back when he changes his mind? 

I keep hoping that this time the stability will last.  But I've had my hopes up before, only to be dissappointed. 

Sometimes I feel like a selfish brat to complain at all.  My husband was well and we had 22 great years together before this illness.  Most people at this site don't have that memory to keep them going.  My husband is getting help.  Everyday, he tells me he loves me (even though he sometimes doesn't show it) and is always faithful.  Reading about the mental and physical abuse others here are going through makes me feel like I should be happy it's not worse.

On the other hand, I didn't sign up for this.  I wasn't prepared to have the rug pulled out from under my life, never to be the same again.

I remember seeing something shortly after his illness began that said something about sometimes life sends us something to wake us up, so we don't get too comfortable.  Perhaps that is it.  I had it so good and really took it all for granted.

I will try to cheer up and appreciate the good days, and my husband, more.

I haven't written in a while - it's been hectic trying to get ready for Christmas.  Things are still back and forth, but not swinging so hard.

Saturday, we had a perfect day.  We went to the tree farm as a family and cut down our tree.  Then, he took me Christmas shopping for our kids' gifts.   The entire time, he was kind and patient.  He never complained once about all the stores or anything.  He talked and joked and was the sweet, wonderful man I knew.

I told my mother how great it was, and she said, "Oh, good, maybe he's better now."   I laughed a little to myself, wishing it was that easy.  I'm just hoping it will last for Christmas.  My daughter even noticed that he hasn't started an arguement with her lately.  She said it comes in cycles - first down, then mean, then good, then too happy then mean again and back to sad.   At 18 and with no formal training, she described it pretty well.   She's thinking it will be good for Christmas, but not New Year's. 

When he got home from work today, I noticed a few little odd things.  Perhaps nothing, but I just feel a little anxious - maybe it's just me.  He's starting to get a little controlling again, I don't think too bad, and maybe it won't get too much worse.  I started to cry a little as I worried that the stability won't last until next week.  Is it too much to ask for one happy, untroubled week?

How will I handle the holidays if he gets an episode again?  I am already having such a hard time getting into the mood of it.  It's hard to be happy when I don't know what will happen tomorrow.    Maybe it will be alright.  Maybe the meds. and therapy are finally keeping him stable. 

I will tryto relax and enjoy the good days and as always hope for the best.

For the past couple of weeks, I was feeling relieved because I thought the medication was helping and my husband was finally stable.  This week, though, I am feeling less and less sure.

On Tuesday, he took my car to go shopping  When he got home, he said that I would need to stop and get gas on my way to work in the morning because it was now almost out.  I told him I barely make it to work as it is after getting our son ready in the morning.  I was a little upset, although I didn't say it, because I remember when he used to take my car just to put in gas for me.  We live pretty far out of town in a rural area (his choice), so there aren't many gas stations close by.  He yelled at me that I should be grateful he went shopping.

On Wed., I had class until 7:30 p.m.  (after a full day of work).  When I got home he was mad because I didn't thank him for fixing dinner, picking up our daughter's band fruit order, and going to the store for milk.  I asked him how I could have done any of those things while I wasn't even home.   I was so upset I didn't feel like eating and just left to get some cold medicine for our son.

 Later, he apologized by saying he was sorry, he didn't know that I would get mad.  He did not apoligize for being wrong to complain, though, which is what I really needed.  He has never thanked me for going grocery shopping every week, fixing dinner, washing the clothes, getting our son ready and taking him to daycare on my way to work every morning and everything else I do. I work full time, too, same as him, and I'm going to school for my master's degree in addition. That's okay, though, because I do it for the good of the family.   Isn't that why he should be helping, too?  He didn't used to be this way.  We were always a team helping out and working together. 

Since then, we have barely spoken.  I don't even think he knows what I'm upset about - that he is under some kind of  impression that he does everything and I'm just lazy and ungrateful.

Last night, our son spilled some soda.  He's only 8, and he started to clean it up himself.  My husband yelled at him, asking him where the spill was because he wouldn't do a good enough job, and complaining that he had 3 paper towels and was wasting them.  My son was terrified and confused.  So, our 18 year old daughter yelled at my husband, which she probalby shouldn't have.  He then focused on her, arguing with her like they were 2 children.  I so hate this.  He used to be such a good father. 

I'm glad he's working overtime today so he isn't here.  When he is, I feel the constant stress of not knowing what to do and what not to do and worrying that one of the kids will accidently do something to set him off.  I don't know how much longer we can all take this.  It is so stressful.

I haven't even started to prepare for Christmas yet.  If it wasn't for the kids, I probably wouldn't even want to celebrate.  It's just going to add more stress to our already shaky relationship.

What can I do?  I know he is taking his medication and seeing his dr. and therapist.  But if this is as good as it gets, I don't know how much longer I can stay.  I've been told that he is acting this way because he feels like he can't control himself, and therefore is trying to control everyone around him.  This is not the person I married, though.

He has an appt. with his therapist on Monday.  I hope that things will improve after that.

Since the last time I wrote an entry, things have been getting better.  The evening of the last time I wrote, my husband came home from work and took us all out to dinner and bowling (his idea).  He was very positive and supportive toward our son, which made him feel better about himself.  He has been kinder to me and has also been more affectionate.

Yesterday, we had Thanksgivng dinner at his family's earlier and mine later.  At both, he was talkative and witty.  I think this is good except that in the 25 years that I have known him, he has always been a little quiet and shy.  He even told me before that social situations make him nervous.  In additon, besides buying things to take to both dinners, he bought enough stuff to make several pies just for us to eat here.  I'm not sure this is okay for him, and can't help but wonder if he is getting too happy.  He also has 2 projects started in the house, and wanted to get materials to start a 3rd.  (I told him he should probably finish the other 2 first and he agreed, thankfully).

I feel that his mood swings are like a pendulum, going from too happy to too sad.  My only comfort is that since he was hospitalized last Aug., the "swings" seem to be getting closer to center (less severe).  I'm concerned that he is showing signs of becoming manic again.  This is hard because I have to convince him not to spend too much or start too many projects at once, etc.  But mostly, it is awful because I know it will eventually swing to depression which is so hard to watch him go through. 

He saw the dr. on Wed. and said he doesn't need to see him again until Jan., so he (doc.) must feel things are going better.  I try to be hopeful and not too anxious, but after the big shock of his first episode, I don't want to be caught off gaurd again.  I just watch and wait as the moods swing back and forth.  I am trying to be happy and positive, but it is so hard not to watch every word and action, wondering if it is the first sign of a problem.

This week has been full of ups and downs as I wait for my husband's medication to start working.  There have been days when I have been certain the meds. were finally starting towork, and he was becoming himself again.  There have been times when I've considered asking him to move out for a while because of his cruelty.

I wonder if this is normal.  I'm hoping that the periods of normal behavior will increase.  At points this week, he has been more himself.  I have seen more consistent glimpses of the man I knew.  He doesn't seem to be depressed anymore.  He is getting things done around the house, and making clear good choices. 

On the other hand, he has been so hard on all of us, especially our youngest child.  He has said mean, unfogivable things both to him and about him.  (He is only 7 years old).   This had me thinking that I should probably ask him to move out for a while.  Yesterday, I got a call from my son's school counselor.  He has been talking with her and getting very upset about the littlest things.   The counselor is aware of the situation at home and has agreed to start seeing him regularly.  If this isn't enough to help him, I am thinking about taking him to a psychologist.  Is it fair to let my husband's illness emotionally scar him? 

Anyway, when my husband found out about the counselor and school, he made an effort to be nicer and more positive toward our son.  I will watch the situation and go from  there.  I love my husband and want to be supportive during his illness as he tries to get better, but I will not tolerate deliberate cruelty toward my children.

He is also so worried about money.  We both work and really haven't had a problem, but he is so worried about spending, even for things we need.  This is totally unlike him.  We used to go out and enjoy things together.  Now, I'm almost afraid to ask if we can go anywhere or do anything.

It is so hard after 23 years of marriage to find myself with a completely different person.  Is this really who he was all along?  It's not fair to change all the rules of our relationship and just expect me to go along with it.  If this is how it's going to be, then we can't stay together.  I won't leave him while he's ill, but if he cannot be more like he was then I can't live with him, either.  I didn't marry a mean, selfish, controling person.  It's not fair to either of us to stay together like this.

I will be watching him closely to see what will happen as I am more confused than ever.

I can't stop wondering what will happen when my husband is stable again, if that ever happens.  I have been hurt so deeply emotionally that I'm wondering how I can ever forget the hurthe has caused.  He has said things during this illness that are unforgivable, and while logically I realize that it was the illness not him, I can't shake the memory of the pain.  Maybe I will post for advice about this later.

 The man I married was kind and supportive.  He would never have done things to hurt me.  Now, he almost seems to enjoy it.  He complains constantly about our dog (a yorkie), which he bought for me two years ago and he knows I love, looking as if he enjoys the hurt it causes me.   Often, he begins complaining about things as soon as I walk in the door before he even says "hello".  Where has the supportive, loving man I married gone?

Even worse, he picks at our son constantly, to the point where he is afraid to be alone with his father, and insists I come too, or even better instead of.  It breaks my heart as I'm wondering what this will do to their relationship.  At least my daughters and myself are old enough to remember the caring, kind man he was.  I don't think my son does.  I intervene to protect my son, and that bothers me, too, as I know parents should present a united front.   But the things he expects of the child are inconsistent and at times unreasonable.  For example, we have never been big on making any of our children "clean their plate".  I've read that it can be harmful and even lead to overeating later.  When I was at class this week (I go to college once a week working on my master's degree), he made him clean his plate.  My son complained that his stomach hurt from eating so much.  It may seem like a little thing but it's just an example of how he wants to change the rules for all of us. 

When he is well again, for I have to believe that it will happen, will I be able to forget the things he's said and done?  A part of me can't help but wonder if he felt this way all along but was just hiding it.  The first time he was in the hospital he met an older patient, who I gather was severely pshycotic.  He said she was so smart and helpful and he believed everything she said, even though she was giving him terrible advice, like "don't take your medicine", and "if you fight this, they will let you out".  When I tried to talk to him about it, he said I was stupid and didn't know anything.  I still feel the hurt from that.  He was willing to believe that a stranger was more concerned about him than me.

I feel that I am wasting my life waiting for things to get better.  I think that if I found I had a limited time to live, I would ask him to leave immediately because I know I cannot spend the rest of my life like this.  The constant stress of never knowing what to expect from day to day, the frequent hurtful comments, the inconsistency, are all making me feel hopeless and depressed.  This is how it is every weekend when I'm home to spend time with him.  How awful is it that I look forward to going to work tomorrow morning?

I'd better go now.  Hopefully, I will get a chance to post some questions later as I need advice.

I finally have some time to write again.  It seems the week, while I'm at work, flies by.  I'm thankful for my job.  I love it and I have no time to think when surrounded by needy children (I teach sp. ed., K, 1, and 2) .  They are wonderful and say such beautiful things.  Children, especially small ones it seems, have so much insight into the world.  I'm also thankful for work because there I'm not sucked into the vortex of my husband's illness.  I do a good job and am recognized for it which helps later when he tries to make me feel badly about myself.

He has slowly began to come out of depression, but has replaced it with "control freak" mode.  He is constantly telling me I need to do this or that, and I can't do this or that if I want him to feel better.   It is like walking on egg shells, never knowing the right move and what will upset him.  I'm relieved that he is never physically abusive, but verbal takes a toll, too.  I am writing right now while he sleeps in the other room, not knowing what to expect when he wakes up.  He'll probably be angry that I'm wasting time on the computer, since yesterday he decided that cleaning out the house (throwing away my son's old toys, going through closets, cleaning out the basement, etc.) would make him feel better.  I agree that it's a good idea, but wonder how I'll have time with the regular cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping and other chores I do on the weekend.  Besides, I remember from the last time he was in this mood that it doesn't really help.  Now matter what I do, it won't be enough to make him feel better. 

I hear him in the shower now, so I better go.  Hope to have the chance to get things off my chest again tomorrow.  Bye for now.

I am at the end of another season.  My husband seems to be doing a little better this week after a month of severe depression.  He has been seeing the doctor, taking his meds. and doing everythinghe's supposed to.   But, when I look into his eyes, I still don't see the man I love.  He is replaced by some stranger.   The strong man that I shared so much with hides from me.  I see him notice how deeply I search for him, then turn away, trying to hide my disappointment.   His eyes are sad and somewhat blank.  Is he there somewhere?   He is my best friend, and I am so lonely without him.  I can never express any of this to him, because it would only make him feel worse.

I think about all the years we were together.  How could I have not noticed anything?  The person I knew better than anyone, or at least I thought I did.   Was it all pretend, just a game?  Has he been so good at hiding this illness and convincing me that everything was so good between us?

And now, even if he does get better and become himself again, I am no longer myself.  I can't stop worrying about the real possibility of it all starting again.   I feel that I will never be able to look at him again without searching his eyes.  Is he still in there?