Fanatical Slow Motion

img_7583Feels like it all happened in slow motion. He was in the kitchen asking me a question about the day ahead.  He says it was a simple question. I heard something entirely different. My body filled with heat and anger. I leaned forward on the couch and unloaded words of hatred. They shot across the room w venom. This is not who I am. I then rose to my feet and vile came spewing out of my mouth. This is not who I am. Shame surrounded me. I felt trapped. The only thing I knew to do was run.  Out of control and desperate I fled the scene.

children-playing-bzylaThis emotional upheaval actually began the night before.  My sponsor always told me we are as sick as our secrets. It’s not a new phenomenon that I withhold information.  This time, I chose not to tell my husband I quit taking my meds.  The funny part is, and this is the honest truth, I was cleaning the bathroom and declaring to myself I MUST tell him. I would absolutely find  “the right time” this very weekend. I didn’t know the phone rang and I certainly didn’t know it was my psychiatrist calling at 6pm on a Friday night.  Shit hit the fan fast.

dancing-with-summer-rain-drops-kip-deckerShe was in my ear saying how worried she was I am not taking any medication at all. He was in my sight worried I was receiving this phone call knowing something wasn’t right. I just wanted to yell at everyone to leave me alone. How very selfish of me to want people to not care about me. How very selfish of me to make an important decision about meds and not include my husband.  It’s called keeping a secret.  I need to get honest and real.

stunning-smeared-sky-time-lapse-photography-matt-molloyI am not a malicious person.  My attempt to keep information secret was not meant to hurt him. Although, that’s exactly what it did.

Back against the wall I came clean. Stopped all meds cold turkey about a month ago. Ups and downs continue. Suicidal thoughts continue but I am making it through so far.  I did not share that I had agonized all night about jumping off a bridge on my return home from my business trip.  In my mind, no reason to take meds. If I die, I die.  I am still selective in what I want to share.

eye-fo-the-macaw-james-robinsonCatching you back up..morning comes and we are both harboring feelings from last night. I yell and scream, grab my keys and bail.  So many emotions fill my car..guilt, shame, fear, sadness.  I drive around aimlessly for a while alone with my thoughts. Somehow I ended up at an AA meeting.  Daily reflections reading is about keeping your side of the street clean and the step card I drew was step 10 taking personal inventory and promptly admitting where we are wrong. Oh boy. I wonder what led me to that particular meeting.

downloadI didn’t rush home to make amends, but I did go straight home.  I’ll spare you all the details of what ensued upon my arrival home as it was not pretty. I am hopeful that it was productive. I shed many tears as I listened to how hurt he felt, how he wonders if at the root of all this disease is my unhappiness w him, how he worries everyday I am going to hurt myself. I was able to tell him I don’t know how to let him into my darkness. I told him I didn’t want him to know what I think, the places my mind goes. While he may think I tell my dear friend everything, I often times do not verbally tell him anything. I explained I have to write it, and it’s usually after the fact. I don’t talk to anyone.

kimAlston SkyAfter many minutes of intense silence, he said this is the most honest conversation we have had for months.
i think we have come to an unconscious don’t ask don’t tell mentality.  We are both scared and dancing around each other. I do think I do much more dancing and juggling than he does.
There isn’t a lack of deep love between us. Darkness effects the family as a whole.  While I’m in my pit trying hard to cover up my fall in an effort to “protect” him from me, all I’m doing is creating more space between us.  That for sure is NOT productive.

cute-kitten-praysI still have to figure out if medication is going to play a role in my recovery. What I learned today is that not including my husband in the equation is not an option. He wants to support me. But he simply can’t if I won’t let him.  My task is to learn how to let him.


Forgiveness is something we can give ourselves, permission is not.

baby-owl-learning-to-fly-peter-brannon finger touching nose of baby


13 thoughts on “Fanatical Slow Motion

  1. My heart was aching for you as I read this post. Deciding whether to take meds is a very difficult (and personal) decision. For me, not using them is like trying to take back control of my mental health. I’m still trying to work out what is right way for me, so can appreciate where you are at. I hope those who are close to you support your decision.

  2. I applaud you for sharing such a personal journey! You showed such courage putting yourself out there in your Blog – you are such an inspiration!

  3. Thank you for sharing this very honest post. I hope things get better for you real soon. Hang in there. Take it one day at a time, or even one minute at a time. some days that’s how I get by, just one minute at a time. You can do this. Please do not give up. I know what giving up feels like and it’s not a good feeling. I feel that way quite often, but I’m working on it more seriously than ever now.

  4. What do you mean you sent an email to the Fanatic? Won’t she get the message on here? Thank you for liking my post and becoming a follower. Oh, I see, Jim, are you her husband? Hang in there, you “guys” can get through these rough times. I’ll also be following her blog, your blog or if you share the blog, whatever it is, I’ll be here following and listening.
    Peace 🙂

  5. Tammy
    I am not her husband. We are both in recovery in Northern California together and we deal with our “mental health,” issues as good friends who support each other. We both blog on here. Me more than her lately!
    I sent you an email also.
    I admire your courage dear friend.

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