It's been two months since the incident that made me realize this whole bipolar thing is for real. Looking back over the past 11 years, I don't know why I didn't see the severity of it earlier. Yet, I still often wonder, is it really bipolar? I'm beginning to accept that this is the nature of the illness.
It's complicated. Difficult even to explain how it works. I've read book after book after book. Some describing the medical aspects of bipolar (also known as manic depressive). Some recounting real life stories of those who suffer with this disorder. Some on how to be supportive to your loved one that is suffering.
As similar as these stories are to what I see in our life, they are just as different.
We've been struggling to find a psychiatrist that will take him on as new, cash paying patient. And, although I am certain bipolar disorder is what we are dealing with, he hasn't gotten an official diagnosis.
Earlier this week, he went back to saying he didn't think he had a problem. It was just the alcohol. Now that he's been sober for two months, he's fine.
And him saying he's fine was my first clue that it's getting worse. I've watched him this week go from sullen and withdrawn to jittery and agitated. At first, it was a welcome change. He was finally an active participant in our lives again. He seemed present in mind not just in body. The first days were exciting. It was a glimpse in having my husband back. Someone I could talk with not just to. Someone that wasn't a hollow shell sitting next to me on the couch at night.
But then it happened. The cockiness, the rapid speech, the obsessive thoughts, the inability to look at things from another perspective. The look in his eyes has changed. As if he is the only person that can do anything right, and the rest of us...well we are the crazy morons.
I did something tonight that I've never done before. Without his knowledge, I emailed his boss. Since he spends a good portion of his day at work, I need some insight. Has his behavior and mood changed there as well? I've talked to his boss about this illness two months ago. He seemed genuinely concerned and supportive. But, did I overstep my bounds? Am I overreacting? Maybe I shouldn't have done that.
This is why this illness is so damn tricky. Because on days like this, I start wondering...am I the crazy person?
He finally has an appointment with a psychiatrist tomorrow. I'm worried he will go into it thinking there is nothing wrong. And we will stay on this everlasting roller coaster ride.
I gave him a book and asked him to read the first few chapters tonight while I'm at dance class with our oldest. He rolled his eyes at me as if to say..."yeah, right."
I don't know what else to do from here.