Not Good on the Home-front

I did the other Sup a favor and switched him a few hrs last night for today so he could go to his kid’s basketball game. So I got home at 5am when it was still dark outside. When I turned onto my street I noticed that her SUV wasn’t in the yard. The house was dark. I went in to my three dogs needing gratuitous rubbings. I started turning on lights as I surveyed the rooms. The toothbrushes were gone, some clothes, and my son’s TV and playstation. It seemed so desolate and lonely in the house with it still dark outside.

I hope I didn’t inexcusably fuck things up this time. She’s put up with my shit for 14 years, so hopefully she comes back once more and I can find an answer to my problem before I lose her. We have only spit up like 4 times in these 14 years and only for a few days at a time.

My fucking meds do regulate my moods the way they are supposed to. Fucking Seroquel and Limictal and Risperdal and still I’m an unresponsive ever-swinging moron. I am going to take Mom’s advice call my P-doc in the morning. Hopefully he gets back with me so I can set up an appointment with a therapist. Likely he will change my meds. I am so sick of tweaking meds. It is going to suck to get a therapist in Marquette because it’s a 2 hr drive and the winter trips are horrendous. But hey, I am definitely willing to do that for some change and hopefully serenity. I am doing this for my family’s sake foremost. They deserve to have a stable environment. They deserve the good, normal, loving dad. I think meds certainly help with my disorder to some extent. My wife would say that is definitely so. But truly I think this anger issue will not be quelled through medication. I don’t think my anxiety will be helped either without a therapeutic intervention. Also I think psychotherapy is needed for my reclusive-ness. If I don’t find the answer soon I will lose everything I hold dear. I must stanch the flow. The old adage is true: You don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

My house seems huge. All I have are my animals, but that just isn’t the same. I’m sure she will drop the kids off tomorrow, so at least I will get to see them. I need to see them.

As much as I want her back I currently can’t guaranty her that I won’t blow-up again. I can promise to not hit her with anything ever again because I truly didn’t mean it this time. All I can promise her is that I am currently and will continue to seek help until I get the beast under control. She has to decide if she wants to be with me through this or if she wants to wait and see how I am after some therapy. I can’t lie to her, I have an illness and I will have outbursts and occasionally hit my extreme poles. It is inevitable; I am mentally ill. There is just no way around it. I am tainted and always will be. Yet hopefully I can subdue the beast enough to become tolerable for her and the kids. Mental abuse is still abuse. I know this. I will do better with therapy; I just know I will. I have to.

I hope she reads this, because I just can’t verbally put into words the way I truly feel. I hope she sees that I’m going to make an eternal effort to change. And if you are reading this… I love you… I miss you… I need you.