Boyfriend is a goddamn saint when it comes to dealing with my moods. He holds me when I'm crying because I looked in the mirror for two seconds too long. He figured out a system to get me to slow down and breathe when Wild Mary shows up. He has willingly, happily, and quietly put himself on the back burner.
I love him for doing it and hate myself for letting him do it.
Every time I have a night like this, awake and alone and breaking, the only thing I find solace in is the fact that I haven't kept Boyfriend awake to witness it all. Other than that, my fucked up brain tortures me by reminding me of what I am guilty of.
Boyfriend has to mentally proofread every sentence he speaks out of fear that it may be triggering.
Grocery shopping is an intense experience every week with my unpredictable fear of certain foods.
My episodes have caused Boyfriend to miss countless nights out with friends because I could not be trusted alone and wasn't capable of socializing.
He has to work twice as hard to support both of us when I am a sinking ship. Which feels like most of the time.
Whatever stigma I face, he also faces. And maybe worse. Boyfriend is a well-adjusted member of society who has chosen to be with one of its embarrassments.
Whether he admits it or not, he is plagued by the fear that he may come home to another one of my aftermaths.
It kills me that I have done this to him. Boyfriend has a look he gives me when I'm crying, a look that begs the bipolar and anorexia to just fucking disappear. A look he never puts into words because he knows he can't ask me to do the impossible. He hides the exhaustion and fear so well, but I know they are behind those pleading eyes too. And I did this to him. I am the one who overflows with painful confusion that spills onto Boyfriend.
While he is busy giving me all the love in the world times ten, I can barely muster a gesture. The pills might make me so hazy that the words and actions swim around in my head leaving me unsure as to what I have said and done. Depression leaves me motionless next to him. Mania rushes me right past him. I am a shit girlfriend for not being able to reciprocate the love I have for Boyfriend, the love he deserves. Every. Single. Second. It's not enough to just be there for him on my rare good days.
Even though I didn't have the formal diagnosis when we first started dating, I knew I wasn't normal. I knew suicide was in the inescapable near future. But I still wormed my way into his heart and made him fall in love with me before exposing my storms and monsters. I have prayed that, for his sake, Boyfriend will come to his senses and take back his freedom. He has given me more love, attention, honesty, second chances, and hope in one year than most girls get in a lifetime.
Mary, for what it's worth, I feel like you are both lucky to have each other. I am proud to bei your friend, and am happy to see and read about the strength both of you display everyday. You both rock, and are my favorite people.
ReplyDeleteThat is so sweet, Andre. Thank you. :) It's hard for both of us at times, but knowing we have such great friends for support is awesome. We really need to get together soon.
DeleteI know how you feel. I am married and my husband "deals" with my episodes so well. He works so hard and I feel so bad when my moodiness robs him of his much needed sleep. I often wish I could break down and freak out at normal times so I don't have to keep him up at 3 AM. I still have NO idea why he married me or why he stays. But I have to trust that what he says he loves about me really is there somewhere. And things over the years have gotten better. I have less episodes than I used to. But it still sucks hurting those trying to help you. Without them we would be lost.
ReplyDelete