Mourning the impending loss of a constant in my life...

In 1989, when I was getting ready to graduate from college and move into the "real" world, I had one goal. I wanted a white cat with blue eyes. That was all. My apartment was selected solely because I would be allowed to have a cat. And of course in all my fantasies, it was a white cat with blue eyes....

And, about a week after I graduated, while I was still getting settled in my very first apartment, I was visiting an acquaintance whose cat had just had kittens. She was annoyed by the fact that nobody seemed to want the last one. She said some unflattering things about the kitten. It wasn't white and didn't have blue eyes. As a matter of fact, it was rather regular looking, just a tabby cat....

Now, lest you think that this story is about me losing my cat, well, I have to tell you ahead of the rest of the story, that Tilly, that kitten, lived to the age of 18 and went to heaven last year. She was very much loved. I am mostly ok with that now. She lived a good life and had the very best care. From the start, and throughout her life. And that's kind of what this story is about.

Let me explain. My first apartment was in an inner city neighborhood, and I didn't know much about cats at all, but I knew they had to get shots, so I brought her in to the closest vet. A rather youngish, red-haired veterinarian gave Tilly her first shots. I thought nothing of it, but he seemed very compassionate. He was the first and only vet I had ever met at that time.

About 6 months later, I was driving home from work on a windy fall night, when, in front of my apartment, a white grocery bag blew in front of my car. I didn't want to hit it, for some reason, so I swerved, and saw that it wasn't a bag, it was a kitten. A white kitten with blue eyes, no less. And he was starving to death. I immediately (the next day) took the kitten in to the vet. The red-haired vet told me the kitten was a Siamese mix and "you got him at a good price", he said. LOL....that was Que-Queek (his name started out as Squeak and was changed due to baby talk by his kitty mom). When I brought Que-Queek back to the vet for his booster shots, I found out that the nice red-haired vet was just the vet that filled in when the regular vet wanted a day off.

As I learned more about cats, I eventually started to show my cats as "Household Pets" in local cat shows. One day, a red-haired man stopped to chat and lo and behold, it was my vet, and he remembered my two kittens by name! I learned where his regular clinic was and did nothing else about that. I continued to go to the "regular" vet near my house.

But one day, Tilly was hiding. And when I found her, she was all swollen up, her face was swollen, and her legs were swollen. The regular vet had no idea what the problem was and prescribed antibiotics that didn't work. Then I remembered that the red-haired vet had said that he had a cats-only clinic, so I thought, "maybe if he's seen a lot of cats, he's seen this problem, too." It took about a five-minute exam and he told me that Tilly had pemphigus, an uncommon autoimmune disease. A biopsy proved that he was correct, he prescribed effective treatment, and it was at that time that I learned that my red-haired vet, Dr. S., was actually one of the leading feline experts in the state.

So I started to go to his clinic when I had a situation that I felt could not be handled by a regular vet. And he never let me down. A couple of years later, Tilly had to have bladder stone surgery. Dr. S. did it. My cat Boris, who was about 14 years old at the time, developed some complex medical problems and Dr. S. treated him until Boris went to heaven.

When Que-Queek developed kidney failure at age 14, I had moved 90 miles away from Dr. S.'s clinic, but we drove down to Dr. S., because Dr. S. had a blood pressure machine for cats, and I felt it was an important part of treatment anyhow. Dr. S. always had the best technology and so much compassion, it was worth it. Que-queek died at age 15. Dr. S was always honest and straightforward about his condition and what he thought I should be doing (i.e., was it time yet?)

For the most part, after that, I resigned myself to going to the local vet here in town. After all, 90 miles is a long way to go in a car with an upset and/or sick kitty.

But then Charlie got sick. To understand the magnitude of this, you have to know that in our house, there is no other animal more revered than Charlie Meow. An orange and white beat-up old tom cat, he is the most gentle, laid back, cuddly cat I have ever met. And he reads people extremely well. I had found Charlie a couple of years before on the side of the road, with some health problems that the vet in town easily fixed. He slept right next to the food bowl for about 6 months after he came to live with us (he was so afraid that the food was going to disappear), and he has always been extremely grateful to have a home. And I can tell you that that cat is something very special. He is always on the lookout for an empty lap. He comes when he's called. And when someone cries, he's right there, trying to comfort them. Even if you're upset, but not crying, Charlie knows. And it wouldn't be bedtime without Charlie Meow all snuggled up... Yet he rules the house with an iron paw and doesn't take any carp from the other cats at all. We all love him so very much. Even the dogs think highly of him!

But he was sick. Suddenly one day, he started retching, like he was going to cough up a hairball, but he couldn't stop retching. He retched and retched until he vomited. We waited until the next day to worry, he vomited again and was still retching. One of the vets in town thought it was asthma. I hoped they were right, but I knew they weren't. But they didn't have an endoscope to see if there was some other problem....that particular vet basically thought we would be better served by spending money on some other cat(!) But this was Charlie, so something had to be done. The vet told me to bring him to the university, 100 miles away. I set out to go there, then I remembered Dr. S.'s clinic. He saved Charlie's life and it was very touch and go for quite a while, he had a severe problem with his esophagus. Dr. S. actually was in daily contact with the university, making sure that he wasn't overlooking anything. He came in to the clinic on Saturdays and Sundays and called to give me daily updates, even when the clinic was closed. He invited me to visit Charlie on a daily basis. And Charlie is still with us today. I sent a thank-you card to Dr. S. for saving Charlie. Even DH still talks about that time, when we didn't know if Charlie would come home or not....he was in the hospital for 3 weeks!!!

Anyhow, what this story really is, is that Dr. S. has been a part of my life and a part of my cats' lives for coming up on 20 years now. I've always known that he was there for my tough cases, and I always knew that he would never say, "You know, maybe you should just get another cat.", which was actually said to me by one of the veterinarians in town (I prefer not to deal with her any more if I can see someone else.)

Dr. S. has always taken care of my cats as if they were his own, and with that much passion and tenderness. I have been proud to have Dr. S. as a wonderful resource for my cats for so many years.

But on Saturday, I got an invitation that said this:
"[Dr. S.' Clinic] is holding an open house on April 5, from 1pm to 3pm."

Not unusual. They've had open houses before, to show people what they do and such....and sometimes special open houses just for kids, too.

And I read the back of the card when I got inside the house:
"To say farewell to Dr. S. as he is leaving the clinic he founded and has led for many years. He will be continuing to utilize his veterinary skills in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Please come and wish him good luck."

I broke down in tears. How could he leave all of his patients behind??? I can't even fathom it. And his staff. Some of his staff have actually been with him for all 20 of those years, too....those poor people....oh dear...I can't even get my mind around it. It's like he died, almost. Worse, because this is something he's choosing to do.

And DH, when I told him that Charlie's vet was going to Michigan (and DH is aware that Dr. S. has been in my life longer than almost anyone, and did understand why I was crying), said, "Well, you know, if Charlie gets sick again, we are just going to have to drive to Michigan, then, because we can't let anything happen to Charlie."

I know that things change. And I know that Dr. S. must have agonized over this decision, too, even though the card in the mail doesn't tell me so, I know he has loved every cat that came in to that clinic, and put his heart and soul into helping them all. So he must have an important dream to follow. And I understand that, in my head, anyhow.

But the selfish part of me hopes it doesn't work out or that maybe he'll change his mind.

Is it the Effexor?

Hi again!
If you remember, a few weeks ago, maybe three, the nurse practitioner that prescribes DH's meds decided that his depression merited an increase in his Effexor CR. At the time, and up to right about now, things have been tough. Lots of lying in bed (him, LOL) and lots of him thinking about how worthless he is and how I'd be better off without him.

Cut to yesterday, it was a very nice day!!!

The first thing that happened was, DH decided to take DD car shopping. (Did I hear you go "oh no, how could that possibly go well?") He called me and asked me if he could take some money out of my change jar for gas. I started to do the "oh no, here we go again" thing in my head, and I told him this: "No, that change jar is only for emergencies. A car is not an emergency. You've got a vehicle. Two, actually. (it sounds like the car that was "totalled" might be fixable) And I don't think that you should go car shopping. You are going to go to that car lot, see something you like, get 'new car fever' and want it really bad. Then, when I tell you no, we can't afford that, you will get angry with me." I expected some kind of argument, it just seems like the way things go when DH wants to spend money in a stupid way, but he said, "ok, we'll just go get a movie (the movie store rents movies for a dollar)." Wow.

As if that wasn't enough, I took the night off from work, as I had to get up early today to attend my nephew's 3rd birthday party. So I was driving home, and I called DH and told him I needed to get cat and dog food at WalMart (30 miles away from home, but on the way home from work). He said "Well, maybe we could go together, after DD is in bed." I thought that was weird. He hasn't willingly gone anywhere with me like that for probably a year. No exaggeration.

But, I bypassed WalMart (knowing that an extra trip to WalMart was going to cost two gallons of gas) and went on home anyhow. I got DD into bed, and DH still wanted to go with me. So we left DD a note in case she woke up, and locked up, and left. On the way there, the conversation was very pleasant. We got to WalMart, and I was mildly dreading "That Guy" showing up and wanting to go shopping....especially after the car lot thing. It was very clear that DH still has no control over his wants and needs, holy cow! Every stupid thing that looked like it was on sale was something we suddenly needed. Cereal (so he could eat it dry in bed again). Toothpaste. Fitness water (yes--if you knew how fit both of us are, you would laugh even more). We set out to pick out a birthday present for the birthday boy. We settled on coloring books and crayons. The thing is, that DH wanted to buy about a dozen jumbo coloring books for the kid, and a HUGE carton of crayons. So I had to have him put some of the coloring books back, and finally convinced him nicely that a three year old is not going to be needing six different shades of "light blue". LOL. But it was fun, because he had a good humor about it all. Like he knew that he needed my help with this stuff, and he was ok with that. And not only was he ok with it, he found his troubles kind of amusing. And that made it fun. Just like my "real" DH.

We left WalMart with exactly what we had gone there for: pet food, pop, and two pairs of $10 jeans for DH (the thrift store where I had been buying his jeans for $1.99 and $2.99 a pair had suddenly decided that someone might actually pay $14.99 for a USED pair of jeans). So WalMart suddenly was a bargain. That was fun...

Then on the way home, DH said to me: "I've got to find some ways to spend time with DD. I haven't been a very good father." That was an astonishing revelation, coming from him. It was a very fun evening. I really wanted to let my guard down, but after all this time, I know better than to think that this kind of thing will keep on.

Then today, I could tell things weren't as great as they were yesterday, but here's something incredible: Next week, DH is going to lead the Spenders meeting, as the regular leader is having surgery. So DH met with the leader of the Spenders group and got the literature, and the materials and the key to the church where the meetings are held. And a little advice on how to lead the meeting. I think this will be great for his self esteem, by the way....anyhow, DH said this: "he (the leader) gave me the folder with all the materials in it. And when I opened the one book, there was a bunch of cash in there from the collection basket, I think. So I told him that I wasn't comfortable with that cash, and could he please keep it, as I still have temptations and don't want to let him down."

Now isn't that cool?

I'm so glad that some days are good like these. You must be just as crazy as I am with all these ups and downs, I don't know what's going on for real half the time!!! Anyhow, I was thinking that maybe the additional Effexor could be bringing about a change. I'm really really hoping for it, the possibility that it could be his med causing this is more hopeful than just thinking it's a fluke. Cross your fingers, ok?

Small world, of course....

Tonite DH had to go to a "class" for people who write bad checks. If he didn't attend this class, a warrant would be issued for his arrest for the bad checks he wrote in our county (and I still had to pay for them, to keep him out of jail...)

Anyhow, he went to this class, and there was someone there that he used to work with, and she was telling him what the former coworkers were supposedly saying about DH, and that really upset him, and I think it would upset a stable person.

I so much wish he was strong and healthy so that he/we could take that place to court. They really did some awful things to him, and, although I am sure I don't know the whole story, I know that the things that I know for sure, and aren't in question, are/were illegal. But I'm thinking that the statute of limitations has run out already, or will be running out soon, and we already paid $2500 for an attorney who was recommended to us by someone we thought was trustworthy, and the attorney didn't do anything at all except spend the money. And DH was going through his worst crisis at the time, and couldn't and didn't follow up on things, and I didn't know at the time, that he truly COULDN'T do it, and I thought that he just "didn't get around to it", so I never did anything either. And I think now that it's too late. So I just keep telling DH that karma will take over, we might not know when, but they will get what they have coming to them....

It's Pouring!

When it rains, it pours, isn't that how it goes? Well, on top of DH's depression lately, tonite he called me at work to tell me that he totalled his car. He hit a deer about a mile away from home. And Jim, who had just returned a few hours prior, was with him, and DH was SO ANGRY WITH JIM!!! It seems Jim hollered to DH to watch for the deer on the side of the road, and DH took his eyes off the road and the deer walked out in front of them. I tried to tell him that Jim was only trying to help, and all that, but I don't know how much of his depressed anger ended up getting directed at Jim anyhow.....I'm ready for Jim to leave for another few years (that's how long it was since we saw him last, before his extended stay at our house...)...I just want to be able to talk with DH in the kitchen without having to beckon him into the bedroom....and I want to be able to sleep on the couch with a roaring fire in the fireplace....well, it's getting a little late for that now...but this year is the first winter ever where I was unable to do that even one time, because Jim was always in the living room.

Anyhow, so DH's car is totalled. It still drives, but that's about all he can say. He says the hood is all crumpled up, the doors won't open, and the windshield broke, etc....I told him to bring it to the mechanic tomorrow anyhow, just to see if maybe they can fix the damage cheaply....if not, maybe they'll have wind of a cheap car...

DH kept saying "What am I going to drive?" "What am I going to drive?" I reminded him that I work nights, so for his daytime appointments, he could take my car, which is something he should be doing anyhow, and if I'm gone that day, he can take the truck into town. I know that ultimately, though, I am going to have to come up with some kind of car for him, as the truck only gets like 9 or 10 mpg and that won't do....unfortunately, we are stuck with the truck, because that's one of the loans DH had taken out that had my name on them....

So the truck, if he sold it right now, might fetch $2000, but we owe over $5,000 on it. See, when DH was spending, he went to the credit union and was able to do a "cash-out" refinance type thing on the truck (using my credit and my income, as I had signed that open-ended loan document back when DH was still healthy), so that he could pay off his overdraft line of credit, which, he never paid off (or tried to pay off but loaded it back up again) anyhow....the truck HAD been all paid for, all paid off, and then this huge loan. And my name's on the loan, which is part of the reason I had to take that extra shift. So we're stuck with the truck. And I can't cancel the insurance on it, because we still owe money on it. But we can't afford to drive it. Argh.

I can already see the stress coming. I'm going to want to spend $500 on a beater (where I'll get $500 is a whole nother post) that will get him from point a to point b and that won't be good enough for him. It hasn't been in the past....and I have no reason to think he's become more frugal...I haven't said anything about that yet, though, as I will wait to start that argument until I absolutely have to.

I just kept reminding him that nobody got hurt (except the deer) and it could've been a lot lot worse. And when he starts feeling down about it, think of all the ways it could have been worse and count his blessings. I don't think that helped. But maybe somehow it did.

Elmo the meow cat

Today, while I was sleeping, one of our cats, Elmo, was wanting big snuggles and lots of head butts, so I figured it was time I told you about him.

About a year ago, someone I know a tiny bit at work told me that they knew someone who was trying to help a cat that was injured outside her office building. I started spouting advice, and so the acquaintance game my email address to the lady who was trying to help the kitty.

It was obvious that the cat was injured, it was limping and very thin, but the lady couldn't get him to come to her at all. She was a cat lover. So I told her she should go to the Humane Society and rent a live trap and trap the kitty. So she did, and then she didn't know what to do with the kitty, so she brought him to the Humane Society. They determined that he had damage to his left front paw, damage to his left back paw, and his tail had been crushed beyond repair. When she found all of this out, she also found out that due to his injuries and his skittish, timid nature, he would be euthanized if she did not "spring him" within three days. So she paid $75 to spring him and was trying to come up with a solution, as she already had two cats, and I think she was kind of worried that the new cat wouldn't get along with them, or that he would hide in her house and never come out or something, so I told her that I was willing to keep him for a couple of weeks to socialize him. I know I'm gullible, but I honestly believed that she had already spent a great deal of money on him, so she was invested in this.....

So I met Elmo. All I remember was these HUGE kitty eyes staring out of the cat carrier at me. He was pure black, and not full grown yet. The lady had thought of everything, she had bought two large bags of food, a bunch of toys, food dish, water dish, cat litter, a little tent for him to hide in, etc., she said she didn't want me to have to spend any money on him while he was staying at our house.

As soon as DH saw him, and this was shortly before things got really bad with DH, he looked at those eyes and said "that cat is named "Elmo"." And he was right, the sweet innocent face lent itself to no other possible name(s).

As soon as Elmo was released into the room where he was to stay until he moved on, he found a tiny hole in the sheet rock and enlarged it somehow, and hid himself in the wall. At this point his tail hadn't been amputated yet, and he hadn't yet been neutered, because the Humane Society wasn't going to put that kind of money into a cat that was going to be dead soon anyhow....so anyhow, Elmo didn't know his tail was sticking out of the wall, and since he didn't have any feeling in his tail, even if he knew it was sticking out, he really couldn't pull it in behind him. As soon as he would hear my voice, I could see the tail kind of shift, so I knew he was ok, and I knew where he was.

He started to figure out that when I came in, there was usually food and yummy treats involved, and after a couple of weeks, he would bring himself to look at me, and then he started to creep out of his hiding spot, and eventually, he let me pet him with one finger. All this time, I was in daily contact with the lady, telling her about Elmo's progress. The day Elmo let me hold him for the first time, I was smitten. And that was nothing compared to what happened when DH held him for the first time....DH even made a comment, "It's too bad he has to go live somewhere else."

A week later, when we were sure that Elmo trusted us, he went to the vet and got his tail amputated (and a little operation on some other parts too). I was really afraid that after a trauma like that, he'd come back all scared again, and we'd be back at square 1. But his tail must've hurt a lot more than he let on, because when he came back, he was amazing. Lots of snuggles and head butts and probably the most affectionate cat I've ever seen. DH couldn't get over it, either. We both were in love with Elmo. And I started to tell the lady how affectionate he was, and how talkative he was, and all of a sudden, I couldn't get a hold of her any more. She never answered her phone (probably caller ID), and she never responded to my emails. So after three more weeks of not getting a hold of her, we decided to move Elmo into the "general population" once again, I was sure he was going to revert to being terrified about everything, but he was so excited to see all the other cats, he just loved most of them so much!!! I think he would be lost if he ever had to live in a one-cat family...no danger of that in our house, for sure...anyhow, as DH started to decompensate, Elmo became more and more wary of him, until he wouldn't have anything to do with DH. And Elmo never did warm up to DD, but me, well, Elmo only has eyes for me. And when I get home after work, I get a bigger greeting from him than I do from the dogs.

His little stumpy tail wags back and forth, and he makes little peeping noises and he tries very hard to reach and touch my cheek or nose with his paw. And he gives head butts. A lot of them. And the funniest thing of all is, he loves to put his nose/mouth inside my mouth. He doesn't bite or lick or even sniff, he just puts his face in my open mouth and leaves it there. And if I don't open my mouth up for him to investigate, he pushes his face onto my lips until I give in. I love him so much!!!

DH is often disappointed when he sees Elmo loving me so much and Elmo just doesn't want to deal with DH since he really became ill. But Elmo's been getting a little better about that, too, just today, he gave DH a head-butt and DH was thrilled.

Anyhow, I was taking a nap and Elmo was taking a nap, all snuggled up to me (and Charlie the meow cat--more on him some other time)....and when my alarm went off, he did this lazy stretch thing and reached his paw up and tapped my cheek, then he stood up so that he could get a better angle to put his nose in my mouth, and then he settled back down and there was lots of gazing into my eyes and purring and face touching....I can't resist him, I can't!!! He's the reason I have a tough time getting out of bed even when I'm not tired!!!

I'm scared and angry too.

And I really don't know where to start, so please forgive me if I ramble....
DH is still very depressed. He's been spending all his time in bed again, and Jim has gone to visit some relatives for a couple of weeks, so there's nothing to interest him at all.

He went to Spenders yesterday, but it didn't seem to perk him up like it usually did. I was inches away from paying the DirecTV bill and getting the TV going again, I had the phone in my hand and then I didn't. I'll pay the bill this week, but I won't resume service. But you know, it's not as helpful as we were thinking in the first place (having no DirecTV), either, because now instead of laying in there and watching TV all day, he's watching movies all day. Ones that he's seen oodles of times. And he's not doing anything in the house to help again, so the laundry's piling up and the floor needs mopped, and all that....and I think I mentioned all the garbage in the yard....he doesn't ever bother to walk to the garbage can any more, why should he when he can just throw his garbage on the ground :-(

And I found out that yesterday, when he was complaining about his back hurting so bad? Well, DD told me that "he went to the hospital, but it was too busy, so he went home." He hasn't done this hospital stuff for almost a year now and I'm getting worried that things are going backwards instead of forwards. And I still don't know who to talk to. That's one of the awful things about a small town, there's not as many resources as you might want sometimes. I haven't let on to DH that I know he went to the hospital again, because apparently I'm not supposed to know (or he would've told me).

The first couple of times last year, when he went to the hospital for his back pain, I was very very worried. After all, for a person to go to the Emergency Room on a Saturday or a Sunday, well, that means they're in trouble, right? But there was a period of about three months, from January to March, where he went to the E.R. every single weekend. I know the doctors thought he was going there to get "drugged up", and I suspect at some point, that's what it became. And now the hospital thing just makes me angry. And he knows that our insurance is a lot worse than it was last year. Oh, I don't know...mental illness doesn't make sense.....

I called that case manager person again, still no call back. But that doesn't really matter, because DH is supposed to be going to the eye doctor and won't call them back, and also, the hospital gave his name to "The Spine Center", but he won't call them back either. I'm giving serious consideration again to looking into what I would have to do to become his guardian, so that I can take care of things he isn't getting around to, like the bankruptcy, and a ton of other stuff....

So, aside from being scared that he might be heading towards another hospitalization, what am I scared of? It almost hurts me to tell you. It's kind of related to yesterday's post, but anyhow, in a nutshell, I'm afraid I'm losing my feelings for him and my respect for him has been gone for ages. I'm afraid I don't love him. And I feel like my whole life has started to revolve around how miserable he is. I've been here all along. I love him, right?

I keep saying I do. But in all reality? With things looking like a repeat of last year, I'm finding it so very hard to be sympathetic. I just don't want to hear his complaints and self-pity, because he never does anything to change things at all. I really really wish he'd find some kind of fault in me and leave to go live with his mom or something. But I know that won't happen. And I think about the bankruptcy case--you know, he hasn't done any of the follow-up stuff on that, so I'm going to have to give him another ultimatum to get that to move a few inches again. And the job hunting. I was in the next town over and picked up an application from McDonalds for him, he seemed excited that I got it, but that was all. And I think about all these bills and the fact that I am going to have to work my *** off for at least the next year just to break even, I get resentful.

And when I go to work he's in bed. And when I get home he's in bed. And every once in a while, he goes out to have a smoke and comes back to bed. But I can't say anything because absolutely anything I say will be construed as "he's a worthless piece of sh** and doesn't deserve to live."
And it just makes me SICK to see him lying there in bed, day after day. I don't even want to lie there next to him, that's how strong the repulsion is.

I feel like all of my dreams have been stolen from me. And I'm angry because it sounds like he's had some mental health issues in the past that nobody else recognized, but they were there, nonetheless. And I married him thinking he was very healthy, hard working, considerate, and very organized. I sometimes question whether I had my rose-colored glasses on when I married him, and maybe I didn't see all this, but it was there. And I know that wasn't the truth, because he had a good job, he made friends everywhere, and all the people from work always wanted to come over. And DD's therapist has known us both since DD became a part of our lives, and she also believes that it was "something that pushed him over the edge". And when I think about that, I'm comforted a little. Absolutely not one person who knows what's going on has told me "I saw this coming." or "You should've known better."

But I look at all the things I love, and I don't have time for any of them any more. My leisure time is a couple of quick pages read before I fall asleep. And today, even though DH was there and had been in bed all night, it was still me that had to get up, two hours after I got home from work and into bed, so that DD could go to her church group outing. And everything else that got done today. And then I went shopping for my mom (again) and filled up her (my mom's) pills.

And I gave DD $20 for the snow tubing outing for church. It was $15 for the snow tubing, and $5 for fast food on the way home. And when DH realized that I gave DD money, he wanted some too, and he got all pouty and did the "you don't care about me" when I told him I gave him $20 yesterday (he already spent it on his way to Spenders.) And I really wanted to tell him that I had no reason to care.

I know (I hope) that I still love him somehow. But I feel so trapped tonite, and you know, even if I wanted to leave, I couldn't, because I've got all of my animals, and I couldn't just up and leave them....and oh...there's so many things....what I would give to just have a normal husband, one who, when I had a bad day, wasn't so wrapped up in himself where he couldn't even listen to me....someone who, well, someone who's like DH was before...he really was the man of my dreams. And that's not an exaggeration. He had a good work ethic, he was very organized about his money, he volunteered to lead our county's Sheriff's Reserve, he called me at work just to tell me he was thinking of me....and you know what? Tonite I feel like I was a victim of one of those "Bait and Switch" sales, where they advertise something wonderful for a good price, and then when you get there, they're "out" of that thing, but they convince you to buy something that you don't really want anyhow....I got ripped off. And I hope I feel better tomorrow.

There's a little plaque in our house that says "People need love the most when they deserve it the least." I had gotten it as a reminder to me that when DD misbehaves, it's not because she doesn't care, but that she has deeper seeded issues. I keep reminding myself of that and the mad part of me says "I don't care."

Maybe it's just PMS or something, I hope. And maybe it's not necessarily a lack of love, as much as it is an overabundance of resentment.

You know, one of the hard things is...

That I can see reality and he can't.
Tonite, for example, he says "My back is hurting more than it has in a long time."
(Please refer to this post, or the beginning of this blog, to read about the relationship DH's back pain has to his depression.) (And I am hoping and praying that he doesn't go to the hospital again...)

So I said, "It's no wonder, you've been so depressed these last few days." And he says, "Well, I'm sure it's at least 90% physical, because my back really hurts bad and I'm not making it up."

Me: "I know you're not making it up, but that doesn't mean that the pain doesn't get worse when you're more depressed."

Him: "Well, you might be right, but I don't think so." "I've been taking my pain-killers and Ibuprofen and it isn't doing anything at all."

Sometimes I just want to shake him and say "CAN'T YOU SEE IT???? EVERY TIME YOU ARE DEPRESSED, YOUR BACK HURTS. EVEN DD CAN SEE THE RELATIONSHIP THERE, I JUST CAN'T BELIEVE YOU CAN'T."

but i don't, because his illness is his illness and part of it is not being in touch with reality. That's something I never understood before. The loss of touch with reality. I always thought that (for instance), a depressed person is sad all the time and maybe lays around a lot and cries a lot. But I didn't know about the ways that mental illness can wreak havoc with your reality, even if a person is making perfect sense, the way they look at the world is just not right. And that's something I really struggle with all the time, HE sees himself as a normal-thinking, normal-acting person and everything he does makes perfect sense. But it only makes sense to him.

House to Vote on Mental Health Parity Bill

Please call your representative and urge them to vote for this bill.
I strongly believe that DH would have been hospitalized longer, if it wasn't for his insurance. The psychiatrist in the hospital begged the insurance company to allow DH to stay, but they refused, so he came home. I believe that much of the pain we endured this past year could have been avoided if he had been able to stay long enough for the hospital to determine that his mental illness was "stable".

House To Vote On Mental Health Parity Bill

WASHINGTON (AP) ― The House is scheduled to vote Wednesday on mental health parity legislation named for the late Sen. Paul Wellstone that would require equal health insurance coverage for mental and physical illnesses when policies cover both.

"I cannot emphasize enough how historic this vote will be," said Wellstone's son, David Wellstone, in a letter to activists. "For five years, I have heard promise after promise that Congress will pass mental health parity legislation in my father's honor."

Paul Wellstone, a Minnesota Democrat who championed mental health parity for years, was killed in a plane crash in 2002. David Wellstone is urging people to contact House members on the eve of the vote Tuesday to rally support for the bill, called the "The Paul Wellstone Mental Health and Addiction Equity Act."

In 1996, Paul Wellstone and Sen. Pete Domenici, R-N.M., won passage of a law banning plans that offer mental health coverage from setting lower annual and lifetime spending limits for mental treatments than for physical ailments.

The House legislation -- and a mental health parity bill that the Senate passed last year -- build on that by adding things like co-payments, deductibles and treatment limitations, a longtime goal of Wellstone's. But David Wellstone calls the House bill stronger.

The House bill is sponsored by Reps. Patrick Kennedy, D-R.I., who has battled depression, alcoholism and drug abuse, and Jim Ramstad, R-Minn., a recovering alcoholic. Ramstad plans to retire at the end of the year, but has said he wants to see the bill passed before he goes.

David Wellstone said he'll be in Washington next week to lobby for the bill.