I Don’t Want Your Money

A touch of calm re-entered my world today. A good night of sleep and a fresh outlook worked wonders for me. It was also nice to formulate a plan last night, even if said plan is drastic.

I sent a text to my wife this afternoon outlining what I’m planning to do.
• Diligently work on my skills in effort to make strides toward mental improvement.
• Put forth serious effort in my work, not just half-ass through it.
• I will leave our marriage if I cannot show improvement in order to protect her from further catastrophic pain at the end of October.

Her response was interesting.
I don’t know how to respond to that.

That’s not surprising.
My assumption is she might be relieved of a possible end to her pain in sight. Then again, she could possibly see this as yet another line of bullcrap from her mentally ill husband.
Who really knows?

I know that I’m incapable of continuing on in this fashion.

I did identify a trigger though.
None of my symptoms were occurring until I had engaged in conversation with my sister. It was that interaction that initiated the entire breakdown. This is not the first time an interaction of ours turned nasty. In fact, when I was in the mental hospital, she came to visit me and took me to task for something during the visit. That was less than positive experience.

I spoke with my brother via text this evening. He was checking up on me asking how I was doing. When I told him I was feeling hurt and abandoned, he didn’t understand why.
“It goes pretty far back, but here’s an example. When I had surgery last March, not a single one of you called, sent a text or did anything to check up on me to see how I was doing. I feel like nobody in our family gives a shit about me. So when I presented all of the hearing loss and hearing aid information, I was hoping I would get the standard bullshit empty line about how you guys were thinking about me and praying for me. I didn’t get that. I didn’t even get a comment about how much this sucks. When I said something, dad texted that life sucks and that was just because I said o had hoped to hear something about how life sucks. Nobody gives a shit about me and it shows. So, yeah, I feel pretty shitty and abandoned by my family. I said some incredibly hurtful things because of it. When I do that, at least somebody says something to me.”

He fired back that “We do care about you, we just think you’re after money.”

“I don’t want your goddam money. I’d feel dirty if it were offered and I’d straight up refuse it. I just want my family to at least pretend I’m important to them.”

“We think you just want money.”
“Did anyone ask me a fucking question? Hell no! You guys instantly slammed me, stating I was trying to manipulate you into giving me money. I didn’t ASK for money. I ASKED for someone to act like they cared. That’s what my fucking texts said! They didn’t imply anything about money. I’m going to pay for the hearing aid myself. I’d sooner die than be beholden to you guys for anything, ESPECIALLY something that concerns my health.”

“But you have the hearing loss, the Gout and the kidneys. You NEED the money.”

“I sure do, but I don’t want it from you guys. I’ve come to accept my remaining time on earth is going to be pretty short. I don’t have the money to initiate the kidney treatments or buy the hearing aid. My medical and mental situations forced us to go bankrupt and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let it happen again. I refuse to allow my issues sink my family. So if I need to scrimp and save to buy a hearing aid, so be it. If I don’t ever go into kidney treatment because of the money, so be it. I’m prepared for the outcomes.”

Everything devolved into a “you can’t give up on life” conversation from there.

I’m not giving up on life. I’m choosing to worry about what’s important to me- my family. My health issues simply are not on that list. Having happiness with my wife and kids are the only things I care about right now. There’s nothing else in the universe to me. All of my time and energy are focused on those two things. It just so happens that to achieve those two goals, I have to deal with my internal demons, or there won’t be a family to work for.

So here I am, sitting in my office and its past midnight on a Wednesday evening. I just finished making a test and running the copies. I’ve written in my DBT journal and recounted part of my day in in excruciating detail.

Do I FEEL better?
I’m tired
These emotional runs are breaking me down at a very rapid pace. I’m finding it exceedingly difficult to wake up of a morning and I become very run down by noon. By the end of the school day I’m beat.

I have to find comfort and I have to find it soon. I fear what lies beneath the surface should I not get it. I won’t go back to the hospital. I can’t go back. I just can’t ever go back. I promised myself I would never be in that position again. But I fear that if something doesn’t work out for me soon, I’ll be headed there very quickly.

About MyJourney

I'm a 41 year old married father of 3. I am a sex addict. This blog is to document my progress, recovery and marital growth. Pornography is an evil creation. Let my experiences serve as a warning to all.
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