Freebird/ing through Cloudy Skies

Posted by meli on Saturday, August 27, 2011 in doctors, family, marriage, mental heath, military/retirement, songbird | 1 comment

Ok, it's a pain in the ass trying to blog on this broken computer (it's out of the shop without being fixed yet; I panicked and wanted to back up all my photos again before letting them open it up), but I'm feeling extremely overwhelmed and need a good *scattered* blogging session.

*I still have a backlog of posts I intend to publish ... 
there's happy in them ... 
smiles are coming ... 
get excited ...
just don't get confused if after todays bitchfest, a back dated sunshine and roses post appears tomorrow!

Nick is in a locked down portion of the VA hospital here.
We brought him to the VA hospital a few weeks ago because he's really not doing well. He was monitored overnight, and they hoped to be able to transfer him to an inpatient facility right away, but none of the programs they had available would be beneficial to the array of issues Nick has. Soo, they switched his medication, started the process of enrolling him here, and set up therapy and testing. They also helped to get him on a waiting list for an inpatient treatment facility near by (the wait is approx 4 months right now).  And then they sent him home. He's been struggling hard; per usual. The medication switch seems to have aggravated his already intense mood swings. He's been up and down for years now, but they're getting extreme again.

We brought the boys swimming last night. I was in a bad mood. He wanted to know why, I told him, and he started yelling at me. I could tell that he was struggling to not yell, but every time it seemed as though he was gaining control of his temper, he'd fire himself right back up. I refuse to sit there and be yelled at, so I told him I wasn't going to do this with him right now. He flipped. Stood up, grabbed the little plastic patio chair he was sitting on, and slammed it against the ground (I thought it was going to be thrown straight at me). It shattered! I mean, totally shattered ... tiny little green pieces EVERY WHERE. Then he stormed back into the hotel room (we were in a room that had patio doors leading right out to the pool), and there was a whole lotta banging and smashing going on in there. And then it stopped. Silence. My first instinct was to go after him to make sure he didn't hurt himself, but there was no way I was going near him. Instead we went to the front desk to call the police. I told them the situation, and asked that someone come make sure he was ok, and take him to the VA. I wasn't sure if Nick was still in the room; and if he was, I wasn't sure if he was even alive (he hasn't had fierce suicidal thoughts for a while now, but since started the new meds he said they're coming back). There was nothing else I could do. The kids and I need to be safe, and we're just not with him around right now.

The police showed up with an ambulance, and after about 15 minutes the officers came to tell me that he was fine, and he was voluntarily going with them to the VA. Nick asked that the officer make sure we knew he was ok. I didn't see or talk to him, so I have no idea his state of mind at the time. And I haven't heard from him, or anyone at the hospital all day, so I'm really not sure how things are going. It's both frustrating, as well as calming at the same time.  I'm so tired. Seriously fucking exhausted! I'm working so damn hard to remain strong, I just don't know what that is supposed to look like anymore.

With risk of sounding like a complete bitch ... I'm actually breathing a sigh of relief that he isn't here. He's a lot of work. I don't sleep well at all anymore. Every little noise has me shooting up to see if Nick is up. His behavior is so erratic. I don't know what he's going to do from moment to moment. I'm hyper-vigilant to the 127th degree. I can't trust him alone with the kids. I can't trust him alone with our money. I can't trust him alone with himself (can't take the chance that one of our kids walk into a room to witness the aftermath of him killing himself ... you just don't recover from something like that). I'm on alert 24/7, and it's really taking it's toll on me. It takes about every ounce there is of me to work with and manage Nick on a daily basis; I absolutely welcome this break. The last I knew, they are going to keep him in lockdown until his meds are adjusted/fixed, his mood is stable, and there is progress made. Who knows how long that could take. I'd like to hear from someone there to make sure he's doing ok. but otherwise ...  I feel a huge weight has been lifted.  He needed to go. He needs monitored help right now.

Something has to change, and I am sick to death of that change being so focused on me. Since he came back from Iraq, I've been hearing what I need to do. What I need to change. What I should say. What I should be doing. How I should be acting. From the get go I had all of this crap pushed off on me. I can't even count how many times in the beginning, when I noticed that he wasn't "him" anymore, I was told "He just came back from war. He's trying integrate back into the real world and family life. It's a process, and you just need to be patient". I was desperate and grasping for anyone who may be able to shed some light on what was happening to my husband ... to my family. No one took me seriously at the severity of the changes in him. Just kept chalking it up to "a normal period of adjustment".  I started to doubt myself. I listened to the advice I was given. I was patient. I was forgiving. I was inviting. But my gut kept telling me something else was going on, so I'd try again to find answers. I went to therapy (many different ones) for myself so I could learn how to cope with what I was told was "a completely normal transitional period".  I actually had one therapist tell me that I should wear more makeup and tight fitting clothes to keep Nick happy. "He's obviously not happy with his home life if he's acting out in the ways you describe, so why don't you whore yourself out to him so he'll be nicer to you". I paraphrased there, but that was the message. Are you fucking kidding me?!?!  I've been told that I'm an ignorant military wife because I had this "naive" expectation that my husband would come home from war and be the same person he was when he left. Ok, ass hats, obviously you can't go through an experience like war and not be forever changed by it ... but the changes my husband came home with don't fall into that category! It's a little bit more extreme then that. But he's the war vet. He's the hero. He gets the red carpet, and the excuses, and the understanding ... and I get the blame, and the worksheets to bring home to better educate and change myself. I'm sick of it. SICK . OF . IT!!! I have bent myself in every direction, worked from every angle, compromised, sacrificed, forgave things I never thought I was capable of, or even had the want to forgive. I've worked on every personal obstacle that I had that would stand in the way of our family making progress, and there's just nothing left that I can or will do. The change has to happen on the other side now ...

He's gone ... he's safe and getting help somewhere else. The kids and I are safe here.

if I stayed here with you, girl (nick)
things just couldn't be the same
cause I'm as free as a bird now
and this bird you can not change.

I hope they are able to adjust his medication and stable out his moods. I hope he is able to regain some control over himself so he can work to rebuild his life. He's a great guy ... in spurts. He deserves to have back what he gave to this country. Our whole family does. The VA here is great! It's smaller; not near any big military installations, so it isn't overrun. The level of care is so personal and catered. It's doesn't feel like you're just a number, and that really makes all the difference in the world. I hope that difference is enough to help Nick.  

Now if I can get the kids and I out of this hotel and into our house we'll be good. The house, though. Oh the house.  We're supposed to sign the lease on Monday, but now with Nick not being around, I'm not sure if it'll scare her away. Can't really feel secure renting out your home with this amount of instability, right? Just have to think positive and hope.

It's been a ride.
And not a fun amusement park giant slide kind of ride;
A shotty carnival coaster, with squeaky breaks and broken rails, conducted by a clown and headed straight for hell kind of ride.
I'm getting off for now ...
time to breath again.

*I love you, Nick ... I know you can pull through this