June 16, 2010

The rope is getting shorter ...

Posted by meli on Wednesday, June 16, 2010 in , , , , | 1 comment

My mind is racing ... Where do I begin?

Nick has been admitted into an inpatient treatment facility for mental health. I don't know how long he'll be there.

Lets rewind a bit. Things had been going pretty good. Nick started a new medication, and things seemed to be going well. He seemed to have more understanding and compassion and a willingness to want to listen, he had more patience with the kids then he has had in a long long time, he had a positive attitude and a hopeful outlook for the future. Things were well, and I had hope that one day, after a lot of work, we'd be able to reconnect as a family and move forward, together. And then last wednesday came ...

He went in to take care of some things at work, and I haven't heard from him since. We had text back and forth several times during the day... we had plans to get together after he was done, hang at the park. He never showed up. No phone call. And he hasn't returned a call or text since. The boys have called every day; several times a day. They told me they like to hear his voice on his voicemail. How heartbreaking is that?

I, on the other hand, haven't called once since Wednesday night. We did stopped by his room the next day to see if he was there. The boys were worried. He didn't answer. His roommate told us he hadn't seen him. I didn't want to stop, I expected exactly what we got, which was a big fat door in our face, but the kids wanted to check, so I took them. The next day, however, the pit in my stomach was growing. What if he wasn't alright. I know he's pulled this same crap on me a million times, and every time I've worried myself sick for nothing. He was always fine. Always out being selfish and not caring what he put us through. But what if this time he really was hurt or in trouble? Could I live with myself if I did nothing? So, I got in touch with his squad leader knowing that Nick has to check in atleast twice a day, so if something had happened ... there would be no contact. Sure enough, Nick was making regular contact. So, there it was ... he was alright, and I couldn't let myself become consumed with the worry and the whys again. Life had to go on. I put down the phone, and went to make lunch for the kids.

Every other time he's pulled his disappearing acts, I've been the one to make contact with him. I've been the one to extend the olive branch, to let him know that we don't hate him, that we don't wish him dead (he spins things so far out of control), that we love him, etc, etc, etc. I'm the one that makes it safe and easy for him to drag his guilt ridden self back into the picture.

I couldn't make myself do it this time. I couldn't and I wouldn't. After what happened 2 months ago, I was already done. I was still holding onto hope for our future, one day ... but I couldn't extend myself anymore in this same destructive cycle we've been circling for years. Wasn't going to do it. I have kids to think about. I have my own mental health to think about. I wasn't going to make it ok for him this time. I still loved him, and still wanted him to get better, us to get better, our family to find stable ground again ... but it was going to be up to him this time, and hopefully it wouldn't be too late. I couldn't keep chasing him down. It was time for him to show effort. Capable of it or not, I didn't care, the gesture needed to come from him.

Nothing came... until yesterday morning. The phone rang, and my heart jumped ... like it does every time. It wasn't him, but it was his therapist. She told me that Nick had given her the ok to disclose as much or as little info about what's been going on with him as I wanted to hear. She let me know that Nick was in a very bad place. Worse then she's ever seen him. She told me that he walked into her office earlier in the morning and begged for help. He told her that he didn't know what to do, he felt like he was losing his mind, he couldn't hold it together, and he pleaded for help.

Apparently, according to the story she got from him, last Wednesday while waiting for his room to be inspected, he fell asleep. He just had surgery not even a week before, so he was on pain pills, and I imagine if he did fall asleep, he was probably out cold. He didn't wake up until the next day, and he was mortified. Knowing that we had plans, and knowing our history with him disappearing with no contact, he was racked with guilt and couldn't bring himself to deal with it. He spiraled out of control.

He already has PTSD coupled with the TBI ... both of which cause a severe imbalance in his moods. His surgery was to remove his thyroid ... another key component in maintaining mental alertness and balancing moods. He had his entire thyroid removed (in two separate surgeries), and has not yet been put on a thyroid hormone replacement meds. He has to undergo a round of radiation, and have his levels checked again. They wont start the hormone replacement therapy until his levels drop to zero (to make sure there are no cells floating around in there, so the cancer doesn't grow back). It'll be atleast 6-8 weeks before that happens! You can imagine how difficult, mentally, this is for him, with everything in his body working toward inbalance. He broke.

I'm working really hard not to feel guilt. Guilt for not being there for him. For not reaching out my hand to him. For not knowing. He was all alone and breaking. Ugh!

So, I still haven't been able to talk to him. There are limited phone days and hours in which to contact him.

I haven't been able to see him. There are limited days and times in which we can visit.

And to make matters worse ... I was just informed that children are not allowed to visit. CHILDREN ARE NOT ALLOWED TO VISIT???? What kind of asinine rule is that? These boys are going through hell. They want to see Daddy, see that he's ok. Hug Daddy, feel that he's ok. They want to be there for him. And how is this supposed to be good on the patients in the facility? To not be able to see your kids? To know your kids are worried, and not be able to hug them? How is that good?!

So, with no child care, how am I supposed to go see him. To relay both to Nick that we all love him, and back to the kids that Dad is ok. How am I supposed to do that? The first visitation is tomorrow evening, and I can't be there. He's in the deepest hole he's ever been in, and I'm just going to not show up tomorrow? What is that going to do to him? To me? To the kids?

The rope is getting shorter ... and I'm slipping closer to the end of it.

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