~Why there was a first time~

I have been struggling for a long time. Nobody knows what its really like. I do a good job of pretending I’m OK. Even if people suspect something is wrong they really have no fucking clue how wrong everything is. I hate talking to people about my “feelings” I don’t go see my doctor or take my meds like I should.
            I have been hospitalized twice in my life and refuse to ever go back. Here is some of my story.
                I was separated from my husband for about 3 months and was living with my sister and her family. We decided since I was going to divorce my husband we would rent a big house together. Her husband was a full time student and with us working opposite shifts we would be able to help each other out with day care. She has 2 boys and I have 2 boys and a girl all under the age of 8 at the time. The kids loved it. I was pretty happy with the arrangement too.
                    I always envied my sisters marriage, they were the type of couple who always got along. They supported each other through anything. It was defiantly them against the world. They always celebrated anniversary and each others birthdays. They did the whole date night stuff and made time for each other. Those activity’s did not exist in my marriage.
                     Her husband was somewhat antisocial the whole time I have known him, so since we were all living together I made an extra effort to get to know him. I wanted everyone to get along and be happy. To me the only way this would work is if we were all friends, and honestly I don’t think he was super excited about co-inhabiting in the first place.
        Nothing ever happens the way I think it should. They started fighting, not in front of me a whole lot.  There was constant tension in the air. My sister started getting pissy with me over little things. She seemed a lot more moodier than usual.
          One morning I got up with all the kids made breakfast, since they were both still sleeping I brought them breakfast in bed. Nice huh? Well the next morning she was working and her husband made breakfast for all the kids then brought me breakfast in bed. Shouldn’t have been a big deal considering I did the same thing for them the day before right? Wrong! When she found out she was pissed. I didn’t understand and thought she was over reacting. There was a lot of stuff she was over reacting about lately. She was accusing me and her husband of siding against her?? If we were all having a discussion and him and I happen to agree on something she didn’t, she would be pissed for days. It just didn’t make sense.

  *what nobody knew was my sisters husband told her he was having feeling for other people and I happened to be one of those other people* had I known this things would have been very different.
           Her husband started staying up late, sleeping in a room away from her watching all these documentary’s and eventually he started telling us he was a genius. At first I thought he was joking because he has always been really smart and into sciency stuff that I don’t understand but, he wasn’t joking. He seriously believed he had cracked some code that scientist have been trying to figure out for years. This kinda scared us we weren’t sure how to react so we did nothing.
          Eventually he hand writes this 4 page letter  where he said something like he wants to be a husband to both of us and I reminded him of his mom and my sister reminded him of his grandma. I don’t remember it all, none of it made sense.
           WTF? is going on?? I told my sister “hes lost it we need to get him help”. After some lengthy coercion, she was able to convince him he needed to talk to get help. She took him to the E.R. He doesn’t have health insurance, and since he wasn’t suicidal, they sent him away. They said there was nothing they could do for him. I wouldn’t believe it.  I was convinced she was down playing the issue to the doctors and sugar coating things like she has a habit of doing.
                 By this time my mania had kicked in high gear and I was determined to take care of it, despite everyone else’s opinions. I became so fixated on getting help for him that nothing else mattered. I tried taking him to the hospital myself, since nobody else could get him help, I believed I could. While we were there he kept thanking me and telling me my sister didn’t try to get him help that she didn’t care, which just fed my initial thoughts of her sugar coating everything.
          When the psychiatrist came and talked to him I had to leave the room so they could talk with him privately. I don’t know what he was telling them, but it gave me time to give the letter he wrote us, to the nurse. I  told her if the hospital lest him go, I was afraid he would kill himself, even if he wasn’t claiming to be suicidal I told her he was. It didn’t matter they were not going to help, they had to hear it from him. I was furious, and scared, and shocked that someone has to say they are suicidal before they are able to get help. Pretty fucked up system we got.


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