The more I read these blogs the more situations and items remind me of past issues that happened in my life. I don’t know if they are truly repressed memories or just the forgotten past by a guy that sometimes doesn’t put 2&2 together. I am now sure that this was a bipolar episode. KansasSunflower mentioned her ex-marriage and how she knew it was doomed from the start. It brought back recall of my marriage ceremony 14 year’s ago. Now looking back I realize that I had an episode right before my wedding that last through my wedding onward.
The night before my wedding I told my wife I wanted to call it off. I don’t think this was merely butterflies or any shit that simple. I think it was a full-blown depressive episode. I never really thought about much it even though she has bought it up on occasion these last 14 years. I never realized how much that conversation must have made her feel. How it must of cut deep and put a bad vide over the next day’s proceeding and her view of her intended perfect day. What an ass-hole aye? I still vaguely remember her telling me to fuck off. She then became somber and distant. She said that we had already put so much into it to just call it off. Slowly I resigned to my fate and said that I’d go through with it. What an asshole! God, I have to slap my ego tomorrow and give my wife a heart-felt apology that’s been 14 years in the making. The next day I went through the motions and we became One. How she must have felt empty inside for other reasons than I felt it, due to my depression. I was the one that made her have that hollow spot deep inside as likely she wondered if our tied knot was inevitably to become untangled. I now have to live with that.
It was so bad that I didn’t even make an appearance to my own wedding reception. It was a small one with just her relatives due to my parents not being drinkers. How she must have felt as she sat without her new husband on the day that was supposed to be to most memorable and happy day of her life, other than the birth of our 2 children that is. I remember that the Super Nintendo had just come out and I was totally obsessed with the game The Adventure of Link. I recall finding a reason to skip our reception just to play that game. I felt all anxious and warm inside. It was a part of my that I addictively, compulsively had to have. My mind thought of little else, even on the day of my wedding. Sad really. So we are talking a full-blown depressive episode to a manic one in 1 day’s time or less. Even the sheer power of such a life changing experience couldn’t break me free. I remember sitting on our make shift-couch, made from a spring-less mattress and folded into a seat on the floor, playing my obsessive fix as I contemplated my new life and made internal excuses as to why it was OK for me to not be there at my own reception. I had to play.
She came home drunk as hell and demanded sex. I said that I didn’t want to have sex with a drunken person. She broke down and cried, telling me how much of a piece of shit I was, and how I had ruined her day. That she had to make up excuses all night to her family why my selfish ass wasn’t there. I had already worked out all my rebuttals, though they didn’t work on a drunken hurt mind. She said that I had ruined the day of her wedding and that I damn sure wasn’t going to ruin her fucking memories of her wedding night. I gave in and performed the act and actually got into it, so at least it wasn’t a total farce on my part. I still remember that sour beer breath and how offended it my olfactory senses.
Now if those aren’t bipolar episodes, then I don’t know what is. It is weird that I never realized it until a blog post and the fact that I’m writing this stupid blog shook it loose from my partitioned mind. I think this blog and reading others’ accounts is going to actually help me cope. It seems that I have a lot of wrongs that need to be righted. Was that grammatically correct sentence? LOL, fuck it, who cares. I will make a mental list and try to apologize as I realize my previous mistakes. No wonder my P-doc thinks that I beat the bipolar percentages by being in a relationship that long. The more I realize the shit my family has put up with over the years, the more I truly feel like emotionally incompetent. The mental abuse is inexcusable. Sadly I couldn’t help it, I was sick, as I still am. I am evil inside; I feel it there. Like all the genocidal psyches in history crammed into my black heart. OK, that’s a little dramatic, yet the way I’ve treated my family has been atrocious. At least as far as I can tell, I haven’t caused any permanent personal/psychological/emotional harm. But only time will tell if my son and daughter subconsciously seek out manipulative, controlling, abusive partners later in life. That is a cross that I will have to bare if it comes to fruition. Will they scream at their children and treat their spouses like second-class citizens and mentally bombard them with painful epithets that weaken their personal self-images and self-efficacies.
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