If you met your spouse as the person they are today, would you have dated them or gotten married?

Just want to say my heart goes out to you. Having a spouse that struggles with this type of mental illness is not only hard— it’s a journey you can only understand if you’ve been there and done it yourself.

We just hit our 10 year anniversary last night. When we met he was manic. I had no idea. Instead, I thought the man just loved me that much— would do anything for me. Then he crashed and the rapid cycling started. It took me two years to break. To get the strength to tell him I couldn’t do it anymore. That was the only time I’ve seen my husband cry. Truly break down and admit he had BPD (something he vehemently denied for the first two years of our relationship). That night he confessed the full extent of his mental soup and begged me not to leave. Told me how much he loved me and needed me. Agreed to go on medication, see a therapist and work with me to get him better. 8 years later I tell you I’ve been on the wildest rollercoaster of my life. The up’s the downs, the manic spending. The porn addictions. The depression, and then the scary stuff no one understands. The paranoia- the psychosis - the fear you feel when you look at the person you love, the father of your kids and don’t recognize them. You know what you see, who your talking to isn’t them. You’re scared for your life. They could snap any minute. Could harm you, or themselves. Their family is ignorant. “He’d never hurt you, or the kids or himself.” yea bullshit. Anyone can snap at anytime and ignoring it makes you an accomplice if they actually do and you played the ignorant family member we always see on the news. “Oh, I just can’t understand why they did it. I never thought they would do something like this.”

So you call the doctor and work tirelessly to get the meds changed—quickly. Work together to help them find stability. Then things start going great for a time. Then depression hits. Fuck— this again. So you spend weeks or months helping them though it, again adjusting meds. Hoping to god it doesn’t get too bad that they’ll snap and kill themselves. You call the doctor again and get the meds adjusted. Then it’s good for a time (again) but you know it’s only going to be short lived because they can never sustain anything long term. Even the best meds don’t stop the change. It’s only a matter of time until the next cycle so you enjoy it for the time being but can never get comfortable.

Fuck me again. Then mania hits and the cycle starts a new and you know it’s time to hide the credit cards.

I loved my husband so much when we met. Would tell you he was my soulmate but I don’t know if I could truly say I’d go back and willing sign up to do this again. We have two amazing children together so for them yes I’d do it all over again to have them. I couldn’t image life without them. But man I never knew life, marriage could ever be this hard— that when I said I’ll take care of you in sickness and in health— he would alway be sick.

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