Too Little too late

Murder of a marriage. Dramatic? Maybe, but dead on.  Pun intended. My husband wasn’t just bipolar, he had been diagnosed (about thirty years too late) with multiple mental illnesses including borderline personality disorder. Of course, he laughed at the diagnostic report the psychiatrist sent and immediately deleted and destroyed all traces of it.  It still rang true  even if he didn’t agree.  I didn’t need a report or official diagnosis to know many things were very wrong with him.  He was born with them.  It’s the way he always was and always will be.  Even medication couldn’t change it. It lessens the severity but let’s be real, on a 1-10 scale if his episodes are a 10 and meds bring it down to an 8, that’s still not comforting in any way”but I’m taking medication. It’s making it so much better.”  It didn’t. It wasn’t enough, and he was only half-assed taking them.  It was too late.  That last two months he escalated so much he scared our girls.  Allison would sit in her car in the driveway and wait  for me to get home before going into the house.  She was afraid of him.  That just devastates me even now as I write this.  I never wanted the girls to be afraid of their dad.  That is a direct consequence of his behavior.  I could hear Allison crying hard in her room one evening.  When I finally convinced her to tell me what was wrong, she told me she was afraid to go to college in a few months and leave me alone with him.  My heart just broke.  She was afraid of him and of him hurting me.  My beautiful baby.I burdened her. I thought all these years I was doing the right thing in not splitting up our family and staying until at least she was eighteen. As it turns out, the damage was so much worse staying than it ever would have been leaving.  I feel incredibly guilty.  I never meant to hurt my girls, but I did just that.  We are all terribly scarred and damaged forever.  What’s done is done.  I will never hurt them again by being mistreated by a man.  It’s a huge responsibility because I just want to love and be loved.  Never again like that though.  Everything we do as a parent affects our children. I do know I did the best I possibly could….but I will always feel guilty.


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