The events of the last two weeks have left me feeling as low as I have ever felt and were it not for my medication I cannot lie I would likely be gone.  After receiving the news from my wife that we would no longer be together I was met with a dead silence.  She did rather little to explain her decision other than that she could not see it working.  She had made no attempts to this point to correct any issues that she might have had and I was not aware of many if any at all.  Of course she was resentful of my disorder and it was having a toll on her which I understood, in fact I was going to great lengths to correct my issues and feeling all the more guilty for having them all the time knowing that they were causing her grief.  So day after day I was feeling more and more stressed and anxious dealing with my emotional ups and downs knowing that she was becoming less and less patient with me.  Not so much supportive, I should have taken this as a sign.  I guess my love for her clouded my judgement.

After she dropped the news on me I was met with a week of silence.  I was in a remote location working outdoors in extremely cold temperatures which is pure hell for me given the SAD aspect of my illness.  My mind kept going over the last bits of information that it was given by her.  It kept hitting on the same things, the fact that she had requested an opportunity to alter our marriage into an open relationship and then suddenly she ended it and distanced herself from me as quickly as possible and hadn’t spoken to me since.  The fact that she didn’t have a job and therefore all the time in the world for us to discuss things yet took no interest in doing so.  The fact that she had been out at bars and living it up with her bachelorette friends.  My instinct was to believe that she had met someone else.  What else would anyone think?  Sure, maybe it was a little paranoid.  However, it isn’t even two weeks after Valentines (wherein I spoiled her) in the middle of a harsh winter where she knows I am suffering from a bad case of SAD (and clearly has no concern) and she has left me with no explanation and refuses to talk to me for no discernible reason.  Here I am left to imagine a plethora of terrible reasons in my twisted and emotionally distraught mind as to why that is.  Unfortunately my reaction to which is not admirable as one can well imagine…
I proceed to pretty much harass her and accuse her of all of the above.  I am not proud of it, though the intention is not what you might think.  I am not trying to cause her harm, nor to incriminate her, I just want the truth, I want to ease my mind.  I want her to finally speak freely and say what she has failed to say for the last 8 months of marriage.  The saying of which might have actually saved our marriage.  Finally it all comes out.  Some of it is very valid, to be fair in the interest of purity of emotion it is all valid.  I was rather thankful to receive it all.  Though some of it was just as twisted up and plain not true as many of the purely emotional garbage that was circling around in my head.  You see, neither of us is right.  Immediately afterwards she is so angry with the browbeating that I have given her to get the truth out of her that again she refuses to speak to me.  Curse this woman.  Why can she not just communicate like a normal goddam adult?!  Why must I resort to cheap tricks and dirty tactics to get the simplest of truths out of her.  Had this not been the case in the first place we would likely still be happily married.  Had she just been able to speak up like a normal damn person we would be in much better shape.  She is convinced that I blame her, well… Yes.  I can’t lie there.  I admit to my faults.  I am brutally honest, to a detriment.  I am not convinced that she ever loved me, for if she had we would have found a way.  She would have seen a way to take on the challenge of helping me through my disorder.  Instead she just got angry and inpatient and treated me poorly.  She resented me for it and frankly I found her lacking in character for it and started to dislike her.  Don’t take me wrong, I love her, but I disliked her for the way she treated me if that makes any sense.  To this day she claims she understands bipolar disorder, I can tell you with utter certainty that she flat-out does fucking not at fucking all. PERIOD.
Her treatment of me was in summation abusive.  I know many people will get on edge when they read this but it is true.  When you react to people with a mood disorder with hostility and anger and you work them up in order to get an emotional response, you are abusing them.  When you try to make them feel guilty for doing so, you are abusing them.  When you blame them for not doing anything about their illness and accuse them of ruining your life as a result you are abusing them.  When you attack them by diminishing their symptoms and claiming that you know more about what they are experiencing than they do, you are abusing them.  I know that most of her treatment of me was subjective and likely only a human emotional response to her situation but an intelligent person knowing the situation who loves a person with a disorder takes a moment to breathe and thinks about what they are dealing with and comes back with a caring empathetic response.  Which was never the case with my wife.  Not once.  Ever.
My wife has some good friends in the town where she lives.  Some genuinely interesting people that I had started to build relationships with.  I was becoming rather attached to a few of these individuals, one in particular.  A caring woman who is interested in many of the same causes and such as myself, a creative soul who I had the occasion to have some interesting heart-felt conversations with.  I reached out to a few of these individuals to express my regret at never being able to see them again and said my goodbyes.  I had hoped that as open-minded objective individuals that they would at least be big enough to say goodbye, I mean, other than having to cajole my wife into giving me an explanation for leaving me, which she motherfucking owed me in the first fucking place… I have done nothing even remotely wrong.  Unless you count being mentally ill.  Which is superficial and shitty.  Regardless, they have elected to not reply to me at all.  Nothing.  Much like my wife.  I certainly have managed to surround myself with some of the smallest people imaginable.  It really is little wonder that they ended up in a nowhere town where the chief preoccupations are incest and burglary.  The primary form of income other than the aforementioned burglary is welfare.  No judgement, I mean I married someone from there so what does that say about me?  I just have to wonder what horror stories my wife has made up about me that they won’t reply to me.  Or are they just being really petty?
It’s all over but the shouting.  I’m going to go pick up my stuff hopefully this weekend and never look back.

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