How do I begin? I guess I shall start at the beginning. Almost thirteen years ago, I walked down the aisle into what was supposed to be the rest of my life. I was happily married for many years. We have two beautiful children. He was living his dream in the career he had always wanted. I was living my dream as a stay at home mom. We had everything. Then I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Looking back, I can see that was the beginning of the end. I started the search for the right combination of medication that would control my moods and put me in remission. It took many years. The medication changed me; not only mentally but physically. I gained weight. My sex drive went away. My extreme highs that made me seem like so much fun to everyone else went away. I was stable. But this isn’t about my bipolar disorder.
In the past few years he felt that I wasn’t the woman that he married. I wasn’t meeting his needs in the way he thought that I should. I felt like I was doing everything I could. We went to counseling. The counselor was a good fit for him but not for me. We quit going. We started to disagree about everything that was fundamentally important. We had always been opposites in every way but those opposites were no longer endearing. They were causing a divide that grew bigger and bigger with each passing day.
The end came November 1, 2019. He decided to give up. I wanted to keep fighting. I had hope that if we held on to God, he could restore what was broken. He no longer believed in the God that I knew was the only hope we had. So he moved out. I was left to pick up the shattered pieces and try to put them back together into something that resembled a life. God intervened and gave me exactly what I needed.
The psychiatrist that I was seeing for my bipolar medication retired and I was forced to find another. My new psychiatrist decided that I needed additional counseling to help me process the loss of my marriage and the grief that I was experiencing. I love her for that. I have a wonderful counselor that I adore and she helped me get to a place where I could start to see a life without my husband. Then the rug was yanked out from underneath me again and that is where I find myself now. Processing the fact that he has been seeing someone for many months now. I was replaced before the pillow next to me was even cold.
So that is where this journey begins. It begins with shattered pieces on the floor once again. It begins with anger and hurt. But it also begins with hope and faith in a God that I know is good. I invite you to walk this journey with me and, if you are experiencing the same pain that I am feeling, know that you are not alone.
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