I gave so many signs.
“You never gave me any signs”…
”I gave so many signs”
— Exile by Taylor Swift and Bon Iver.
Me: This is a problem
Him: No it’s not.
Me: It’s a problem for me. I’m afraid you’ll break down again.
Him: I’ll quit if you really want me to.
Me: I really want you too.
Him: I can’t beleive you would ask that of me. I never interfear with what you want. You get to do whatever you want and I never complain, this is all I want.
Me: It’s just that your doctor warned it messes with the antipsychotics you know? They have become less effective and now you have to take higher dosses. That’s a problem, what if you become immune to these too? What if you break down again? It’s scary for me when you break down. When you’re high you act differently. I can’t hold a conversation with you. You sometimes act strange and talk to people who aren’t there.
Him: When did the doctor tell me this? He never said any of that.
Me: Yes he did, during your last breakdown, that’s why he trippled your dossage. I was there.
Him: You misunderstood. I was there. He never said that.
Me: But you act differently when you’re high, it’s a problem. Sometimes you are mute, sometimes you talk to people who arent here. You’re making our friends uncomfortable, I am afraid of you breaking down.
Him: So you live in fear? You constantly live in fear of what could be and not enjoy what actually is? I don’t believe in making decisions based on what could be. I live in the now.
Me: It was really hard for me when you break down. You’re not reliable, you act strange, it’s the worst thing in the world for me.
Him: Stop being so manipulative. Stop trying to control me. Stop telling me what I can and can’t do.
Me: Please stop with the weed.
Him: I’ll get high when I want. I’m tired of you controlling me. Anyway, if you really wanted me to stop, I would.
Me: I want you to stop.
Him: Quit being dramatic.
He slams the door, yells at me until I apologize. I just want to keep the peace, so I do.
One month later
Me: The drug use is a problem for me.
Him: It’s not a problem. It’s fine. It’s just how I relax. I do it for fun.
Me: I need you to know something.
Him: Yeah?
Me: If this continues, I will leave you. I don’t want to live like this.
Him: That’s really manipulative of you, giving me ultimatiumns. No good ever came from ultimatums.
Me: But I can’t live like this, I’m to afraid seeing you fall apart. It’s a real problem for me.
Him: I can leave you too you know.
Me: I know. You can.
Him: So stop trying to manipulate me by threatening to leave. It’s bullshit. I’m tired of your bullshit.
We get in a big fight where he makes me apologize for being manipulative and picking fights with him.
Two months later, I sit him down and look him in the eye.
Me: You have a drug problem.
Him: Fuck off
Me: You have a drug problem
Him: — silence —
Me: You have a drug problem
Him: Stop being controlling and manipulative.
Me: You HAVE A DRUG PROBLEM.
Him: Go fuck yourself.
Me: You have a drug problem. If you don’t get help, you will lose me.
He yells at me for being controlling until I apolgize. He explains again how I need to stop being so mean to him all the time.
Six months later…
Him: Hey Guess what! I’ve been reading about history, and it turns out, it’s all about me! I did it. I singlehanded took down the Church of Scientology and saved the country. Isn’t it amazing?
Me: When did this happen?
Him: Around the 10th century.
Me: Um, the Church of Scientology wasn’t around then.
Him: Exactly! That’s the whole point! I am the savior of the whole world.
Me: How did your doctor’s appointment go yesterday?
Him: Great! The doctors say I am in perfect health. I’m doing great!
Me: I’m concerned you are breaking down.
Him: Why? I just got done telling you I’m doing great! Better than ever. I don’t even feel the need to get high today. I’m doing amazing.
Me: I think you’re manic.
Him: Like I said, I am doing amazing. But I have one concern, I found all these books in our house, they talk about patterns, and numbers, and other weird things. I think they’re literature from the Church of Scientology. They know where we live and they’re onto me. They want to take me down because they know I keep them under control. I have a very important job.
Me: Those are math text books. They belong to me, I’m a math teacher remember? They have nothing to do scientology.
Him: Are you telling me you brought that poision into our home? Don’t do that! This is serious now. You can’t let them in here! They have evil intentions. I should have never let you out alone, that will change soon.
That evening
Me: I’m going to spend some time with some friends.
Him: Why?
Me: I just need some me time for a bit. But I’ll pick you up tomorrow for your psychiatrist appointment. You’ll be ready at 2:00 right?
Him: I mean there’s no need, I’m fine. But true, the scientologists are after us, so I guess this would be a good way to annoy them, they hate mental health care. They sure won’t follow us there. Let’s just hope we can get some sleep tonight. I hope the evil man accross the street doesn’t try and break in and attack us. I know he’s thinking evil thoughts about us.
At the appointment my husband confesses he hasn’t been taking his medication. He also says he refuses to take his meds, and he will smoke as much weed as he wants. The doctor explains it interfears with his meds, he doens’t care. He has changed from happy manic to angry manic, and he yells at me screaming about what a horrible person I am. Later on he would throw my stuff out, call my work attempting to get me fired, and harass me all night long.
Six months later
Him: I had no idea why she left me. One day, she was just gone, no warning, nothing. I really want her to spend more time with me.
Therapist: Why did you leave him? Why didn’t you give any warning?
Me: He was psychotic.
Two years later
Him (via email): I would like to see you again. I have no idea why you left. You gave me no warning. You blind sided me.
Me — deletes email.
