I have Bipolar Disorder, which makes my emotions even more heightened. So imagine feeling happy about, say a promotion at work. I would feel ecstatic to the point of going out and getting blitzed. Anger? MOST people would need a few moment to a few hours to cool off and think rationally again. Me? Anger turns to rage, which then leads to thoughts of complete irrational behavior, which then leads to-at times-a couple of days to return to MY normal state of flux. Loss? We won’t even DARE go there. The point is, that EVERYTHING around me is influenced by my Bipolar, thereby my already precarious emotional state can swing from one side of the scale to the other in nanoseconds, and then it’s either up or down from there for DAYS!
Since the Night All Hell Broke Loose, my emotional state has been in an even MORE dysfunctional state. Shock, loss, anger, sadness, revulsion, pity, hurt, frustration, and on and on…it NEVER SEEMS TO END!! Then, add in the Lady Part health scare, being off work for close to 10 weeks, and I’m a fucking mess. Plain and simple. But, I’m doing everything I know to do to keep the scales as balanced as possible. It’s not fucking easy, but I’m making it-day by day.
Here’s the thing that makes this emotional situation even more…perplexing? Is that the right word? Whatever. The thing that really fucks me up is Texas. Do I listen to my gut that tells me to confront him on the secret(s) I KNOW he’s hiding from me? Do I listen to my head that is saying to protect myself and run in the opposite direction from him? Or do I listen to my heart that says to be understanding about the situation? Let me explain.
The Night All Hell Broke Loose, I hopped on my Clash of Clans app and sent out a mail asking for a few of those trusted people to get on and talk to me. Two of those most trusted got on, but the one I REALLY wanted to talk to wasn’t around-I assumed he was with his kids. I sat there, on my broken couch crying over the ruin of my marriage and Texas hops on. I continue my woe-is-me chat, and he tells me/us-because we are in chat-that he’s in the hospital. OK, whoa-wait-what?! It was bad-really, REALLY bad. I won’t go into extreme detail, but he had internal bleeding, and they didn’t think he would make it through the first few hours, and the asshole almost DIED on me because he couldn’t stop talking to me. We talked for six hours-I begged and I pleaded for him to live for his kids, the new baby, for HER-when in reality I was begging him to live for me. Near the end of the conversation the doctor came in and said he was going to surgery. I told him he had to make it through-it was an order, and I needed him to come back to me. I admitted that at the last moment. Then that asshole made me leader of the clan, and made me demote him all the way to member. Fucker. They came and took him to surgery, and I spent 36 LONG hours checking chat, waiting to see if he made it through. He finally popped on long enough to say he made it through and was going to have another the next day-a Saturday-and he would be on as soon as he could. That was the last I heard from him for 4 weeks.
I talked to a few other members outside of the app, one was full of fun conversation, the other was a fucking nightmare. One night after talking to the nightmare I hop on Clash, and I see people saying “Hi Texas!” I said, “Don’t fuck with me. Texas isn’t back.” I had to stop, scroll through chat, and there he was. “Hi Sass’…and my world was righted in that one instant. I felt like Bella in Breaking Dawn when she and Edward get married. We started talking on kik that night, and talked until 3:30 am my time until he passed out from the strenuousness of waking up from a 3 week coma 2 days before. The next day we kiked and he literally left the hospital he was in to call me, and we talked on the phone for 9 hours-give or take. And we talked every day for three weeks-literally until the sun came up. We told each other we loved one another. Started making plans for a life together-more children, a new house, and he adamant about me not working. Then things changed DRAMATICALLY. No calls, hardly any messages, and I changed. When I did hear from Texas, it was like I had taken a Xanax. He’s like my own personal brand-he calms me down, and reassures me, and I feel peaceful after we have talked or kiked. We FINALLY talked on the phone after three weeks and it was wonderful. He let me know that the family he’s staying with were going on a vacation and that he had to go with them since they are responsible for him. That’s weird, considering you’re a grown ass man that’s been taking care of your kids since you came back from Iran with grenade shrapnel in your back that left you in a wheelchair, and you rolled in on your wife fucking another man with the girls in the living room watching Sponge Bob. He’s a Marine-well, WAS a Marine, until he was Dishonorably Discharged for disobeying a direct order for trying to save his fellow Marines. Or is he?
So, I went into FBI mode, and started digging. I have looked, and looked, and fucking LOOKED for him all over…I have tried my damnedest to access military records, and search for phone numbers and addresses. It’s like the man DOES NOT EXIST. WTF?! How is it that this man that I have been talking too since February on a game app, and more recently over the phone doesn’t seem to be a REAL PERSON?! So, I talk to some of my BFF Gang and they are all like, “Yeah, something isn’t right. Maybe a catfish?” Whoa-that’s…wow, just WOW. I don’t want to believe that, but it IS a possibility. My gut is telling me that there is SOMETHING he isn’t telling me-and I fear it’s from a mental illness stand point. I could be over reacting, since I AM known to do that. My head is saying “You need to be protected and just walk away. You’ll never get the answers you need from him.” But my heart-my crazy, love struck and hopeful heart says, “Be understanding. He’s been through literal hell, and he needs to heal and deal. If you are patient-damn dirty word-you just might be lucky enough to travel with him on his journey to healing. He said you are his light in the dark. Just be understanding.”
So here I am…sitting and waiting. Yesterday I wrote Texas a letter…and said letter turned into eleven pages of my honest and soul-bearing feelings. My deepest fears and desires I have yet to share with him. The things I am willing to do, the things I need him to do for himself and for me. I sent him a kik Monday morning telling him I had something for him to read or hear, and he hasn’t turned his tab on since before I sent that message. So now I’m freaking out even more…I could be over reacting, or it could all be justified. I just don’t know. I won’t know until I can talk to Texas, and I really don’t see that in the foreseeable future…and it’s scary and painful. I would rather have the truth-no matter how fucked up it is-than to be left hanging with no explanation at all. I think I am owed at least that much.