It has been about two weeks since I opened my eyes to the nature of my relationship with my wife (and the many others before her) and it has been an interesting journey so far. I’ve been doing a lot of DBT to deal with the emotions but it has not been easy. I’ve struggled to get work done. It’s happening but my productivity is definitely below where it normally is. And my cannabis consumption has spiked also, though I’ve started dialing that back over the last day or two.
I’m still somewhat in shock that all of this is happening. I know that, once the divorce is complete and I’ve managed to put some distance between me and this whole affair, I’ll feel a bit better. Despite the impact of everything, I am grateful to be healthy enough to handle this situation.
I was at the psych ward yesterday, visiting a friend who had to check in there a few days ago. It was the first time I have ever visited someone else in a psych ward. Over the last decade, I’ve had 6 psych ward stays, including one at the place I stopped by yesterday. There have been at least two times in the last year where I came very close to checking in the psych ward but each time, I worked very closely with my therapist to stay away. I have reached a point in my recovery where a psych ward stay will hurt my long term recovery; I need to learn that I can get through difficult situations without having to go to the hospital. I’ve got an agreement with my therapist that I will go to the hospital if and only if I am in danger of hurting myself.
Today I’m participating in a pride parade at the invitation of a friend and then going to see a play. It is actually the play that I was originally going to be doing a talk back at on the subject of stigma. Unfortunately, the talk backs were canceled but I still have my two comped tickets and it looks like an interesting show. To be honest, given how I’ve been feeling, I’m relieved that I don’t have to do the talk back. I would have been able to do it but it would not have been pleasant. Helping with the parade and watching the show is enough stuff for me to do in one day anyway.
And it’s Father’s Day. And I don’t expect to hear from my kids. And that sucks. I’ve recovered enough to know that I really fucked up things with my kids but not enough to be able to do all the things I need to do to make things better. I can, and have started to, do some things to repair our relationship but it is going to take a very long time and things will never go back to the way things were before I started self-destructing years ago.