12 posts shown.
We are moving forward steadily, one day at a time, one step at a time.
The messages have started coming through...
Things remain quite difficult... he was prescribed additional antipsychotics and antidepressants.
There are also some extra complications that I had suspected, which have now been confirmed.
Our next milestone will be coffee... slowly... we will get there...
The tunnel is long and the darkness surrounds us, but we will reach the light eventually.
Brandon Mitchell said:I’m currently on a cocktail of antipsychotics and antidepressants, and honestly? I don’t feel a damn thing for life anymore. No joy, no heartache, nothing... just this heavy, dead sensation inside. It feels completely pointless to try and date anyone while I’m stuck in this headspace. Honestly, maybe you should just step back from him until you can get your own head straight, because if you stay like this, you're just going to end up in a cycle of constant guilt...
It isn't my responsibility to pull away; he is the one who has effectively distanced himself from me.
The only place where I truly need to create that distance is within my own mind.
Moving on with the heart is always the more difficult path... it tends to hold onto hope much longer than logic does.
Michelle Murphy61 said:Kudos to you—I honestly don't think I could do it. Perhaps it's because my own health isn't exactly where it should be.
I'm genuinely concerned that his struggles will eventually consume you—wrecking your life and, by extension, the lives of your children.
It feels like you’re carrying this guilt, thinking that having them with you leaves no room for him. Don't fall into that trap. You cannot shoulder all of his burdens. Your priority has to be YOU—then your kids—and only then can you worry about him.
By the first crisis, you're already losing your grip and reaching for the Tylenol. If you keep this up, you'll end up just as broken as he is.
I understand, and I am doing my level best to ensure the kids don't realize we are in a bit of a bind, but... they aren't little anymore, you know? They see that he hasn't been around for weeks, even though he used to drop by every single afternoon.
They really took to him; he was so kind, and they got along famously...
Naturally, my children are my top priority. What kind of mother would I be if I felt guilty about them being with me instead of him? Their place is by my side until they can find their own way in the world... only then can they move on to someone else.
As the saying goes, where there is no friction, there is no progress. Life is rarely smooth sailing.
But well... this is simply the reality we are facing right now.
He mentioned he was going to see his doctor, but fortunately, the symptoms seemed to subside in the meantime.
I’ve been monitoring his condition closely for several days, and we’ve come to the conclusion that the vomiting blood occurred the morning after he took some Tylenol.
Regardless of our theory, once this current crisis passes—or at least settles into something more manageable—I intend to suggest that he follows through with that medical checkup.
That is, provided I am still able to stay involved in his life... if he doesn't shut me out entirely. 👎
Azure, thank you so much for your kind words of support.
I am fully aware that I am neglecting my own well-being and need to prioritize my health... I really need to work on my sensitivity and stop taking everything so personally. I don't want to find myself back in the ER with high blood pressure like I did just a couple of weeks ago.
It is a long climb to the top, but the view will be worth it!
Lawrence Bailey77 said:Well, look... even under "normal" circumstances, people break up. It’s rarely a simple or easy process, I suppose..
In my view, it always pays to try. Whether you're looking at something new or revisiting something old, the odds remain essentially the same, I think.😬
However, if his current situation feels too heavy for you to carry into the future, then perhaps it is better to give him the chance to find someone who can actually be there for him.
That is, quite frankly, your side of the equation..
It is entirely possible his perspective mirrors your own—that he simply doesn't know how to cope with THAT.🙂
But he has already found someone capable of standing by him... me!!!
We have discussed this countless times, and I have made it abundantly clear to him that I will be right there beside him through the storms and even during the acute stages of his MS. He has expressed such sincere gratitude to me for that, showing how truly touched he was...
And now, just as the crisis reaches its peak... he has retreated entirely into himself.
Is it possible he doesn't want me to see him in such a state?
I am left with hundreds of questions and just as many different interpretations of what is happening, when all I really need is one single message from him to provide clarity.
But clearly, he isn't even in a position to find those answers for himself. He has entered a sort of self-imposed quarantine; he won't go out, he isn't contacting anyone, and he has turned off his phone... He is exhibiting the exact same behavior as someone I recently heard about who was struggling with severe depression... I don't know her personally, but a friend described it to me, and I can see the pattern is identical.
[QUOTE=Gary Taylor50;57055666]Ask yourself if you can truly, honestly, handle someone who runs away the moment things get even slightly difficult.
But what if this isn't running away, but rather a retreat due to illness?
He isn't the type of person to just abandon ship.
When dealing with someone living with Multiple Sclerosis, one must ask: can you really care for someone who is bedridden?
If I had thought I couldn't manage it, I never would have entered this relationship in the first place.
I have given this serious thought and concluded that I am capable.
And why are you mentioning his vomiting blood in the morning so casually? (Bleeding is always considered an emergency).
Back during the summer, when we were spending all our time at my place, that symptom stopped. My home provided him with a calm environment—his own house is quite chaotic, and being there would likely cause anyone physical stress—as well as regular meals and peace of mind. He started sleeping normally... and those morning bouts of vomiting blood ceased almost overnight.
You cannot assist someone who refuses help, nor can you help someone who refuses to let you help them. In this case, I am certain of the former, though perhaps uncertain about the latter, but it doesn't seem like he wants any assistance at all.
I fear that is indeed the reality.
The only course of action left is to give him space for now and live your life without the constant worry. If he returns, you will see what happened. If he doesn't, then perhaps it simply wasn't meant to be—my heart goes out to you.
That is exactly what I intend to do, as there is no third option available.
Either he will return and everything will stabilize again.
Or he won't come back... despite both of us being convinced we were soulmates.
Time will tell; one simply needs to endure.
Jonathan Hayes said:If we're talking actual clinical depression... yeah, they can.
Does that mean I don't really have much ground to stand on if I'm hoping for a positive outcome?
To put it another way, am I just waiting... while waiting is essentially a wasted effort?
Roger Scott17 said:I honestly think you truly love the guy if you’re willing to step up and help him through all those struggles he's dealing with. I mean, he's been through two marriages and so much health trouble already, yet here you are—not backing down one bit. Seriously, props to you for being so brave 👍
I just really hope he feels the same way about you and realizes how much he appreciates having someone with a heart like yours in his corner—it’s such a rarity these days, especially when everyone seems so obsessed with nothing but money.
Yes, I love him and my intention is to help him.
Regardless of the current circumstances, my feelings for him have not wavered; if anything, one could argue they have intensified, as difficult as that may seem.
He loved me long before these complications arose, and I am hopeful that his feelings toward me haven't shifted despite this crisis.
Is it even possible for a crisis or depression to fundamentally alter the core emotions a person once held for someone else?
I suppose I will find out the answer soon enough, though likely through direct and personal experience...
Yes, I have made my decision: I am going to wait for him, and I have no intention of giving up on us.
He needs a pillar of strength and someone to lean on right now, and I truly want to be that person for him.
My only real fear is that he might walk away just to protect me from the chaos within himself.
I won't betray his trust.
I love him.
I wanted to reach out and ask... how does one truly handle THIS?
It would be so much easier if we lived under the same roof... I’d be able to sense those precise moments when he needs support most. I could suggest a quiet walk through the park, offer him a hug when the night terrors strike, or simply stay awake by his side during those restless hours when he feels too afraid to close his eyes...
But since we don't live together, I feel quite helpless. My greatest desire is to help him navigate this, yet I find myself struggling to find a way into his world—especially now that he has expressed a need to be left alone...
Perhaps "getting through to him" isn't quite the most precise way to phrase it.
I am struggling with how to navigate this situation. How can I support him effectively? How do I let him know I am standing by his side when he won't answer his phone—whether he has it on silent, is sleeping, or simply lacks the energy to engage? When he goes offline for days at a time and ignores the supportive messages I send... how do I actually reach him?
Should I just show up at his doorstep?
I actually drove by his place one evening, but I couldn't find the courage to take even a single step toward the house. Given how chaotic his domestic life is right now, I hesitated... I worry that an unannounced visit might actually backfire.
Should I follow the advice of his friend and... just wait?
I hope I have come to the right place to share my concerns.
We have been together for about six months. We are both divorced, and we have both crossed the threshold of forty.
In the beginning, our relationship felt almost flawless. We spent nearly twenty-four hours a day together, excluding the eight hours I was at work. He essentially moved into my place, and we shared everything.
Even before our relationship became official—back when we were just seeing each other for coffee—he was completely transparent about his medical history, which is quite extensive. Beyond "minor" issues like migraines, back pain following surgery, and gastrointestinal problems that caused him to vomit blood in the mornings, his primary struggles are multiple sclerosis and PTSD.
I entered this relationship with a full understanding of the challenges ahead. We fell in love, and I truly believed I possessed the fortitude required to navigate his illnesses. I was prepared to care for him even if he eventually required a wheelchair, and I aimed to provide the tranquil environment such patients need (his home life is quite strained, which unfortunately exacerbates his condition).
Initially, we functioned beautifully, but it turns out that managing his PTSD is a much harder nut to crack. The crises began as early as November; they started in a milder form, but they wouldn't subside. I suspect the situation was complicated by the fact that we had less time together, as my children returned home from their seasonal jobs, leaving very little space in my small apartment for everyone.
He became increasingly depressed, sleeping more frequently and relying heavily on medication. Day by day, his therapy became more intensive, and he faced financial difficulties due to some unavoidable circumstances. It feels as though everything in his life began to spiral downward, leaving me as his sole source of light and stability.
He made every effort not to make me feel neglected; he always stepped up whenever I needed assistance, even when he was visibly under the influence of his medication—often literally falling asleep on my lap, lethargic and dejected.
More and more often, he would simply stay home to lie down and sleep. Nothing seemed to bring him joy anymore, though he tried—entirely for my sake. At times, I lacked the necessary patience and found myself being critical of him. Looking back, I realize I should have been more understanding, but I struggled to navigate such an overwhelming situation.
We haven't seen each other in three weeks. I spoke with his best friend, who has tried numerous times to coax him out of the house just for a coffee, but without success. As the New Year approached, he sent me a message saying that something had happened and that he needed to be alone to reflect deeply, because his decision would affect the rest of his life... himself, me, and others. These are heavy, almost euphoric words coming from someone who is under sedation 24 hours a day, taking Xanax, various pills, and I can't recall the rest.
Is he withdrawing into himself to protect me from the burden of his illness? Because in addition to these psychological struggles, he recently suffered a fall and briefly lost sensation in his legs.
Both of his previous marriages ended because his ex-wives could not cope with his health issues.
Is this somehow a test to see if I have the stamina to endure?
I am certain that a mental health crisis is the root cause of all this. This isn't his first one, according to his friend, who advises me to remain patient and suggests that he will return to me once this period passes.
If he intended to end things with me, I believe he would tell me directly rather than retreating so quietly. His last message to me was simply, "Please, wait for me a little while..."
I am being patient, and I love him; I intend to wait. But there are days when I feel like I am coming apart at the seams, and I find myself needing my own medication. I don't want to give up on him or on us. He needs me, and I need him.
Has anyone else navigated a relationship like this, or experienced a phase like this in a partnership?
I would appreciate any advice you might offer.