Posted February 23, 2019

I cannot explain how much comfort this blog has brought me. I struggle with depression myself, and this blog helps heal a bit of the loneliness because it shows there are people who do understand what I have to go through.

This is my story that I am going through right now. Sorry it is extremely long. I’m still trying to process it all.

My live-in boyfriend of three and a half years just got diagnosed with bipolar disorder yesterday. Backstory: We had a whirlwind romance when we first met, and he moved in with me after just six months of dating. Right before moving in, he had lived with his grandfather, who was dying of cancer and had started taking opiates to relieve the pain. My boyfriend was taking the opiates, as well.

I didn’t know this when we first moved in together. Shortly after, the pill addiction turned into a heroin addiction. Despite my gut and all of my friends telling that he was bad news, I stayed. I was the loyal girlfriend. I didn’t know anything about substance abuse despite my psychology degree, so I didn’t know it was heroin until I kicked in the bathroom door and saw him shooting himself up. It finally made sense. He wasn’t contributing enough for bills. I would have crazy panic attacks because of all the stress. He never cheated on me, but I would catch his lies about money all the time. But what could I do? Kick him out and let him overdose on the streets? Every time he was using or buying, I felt like my subconscious knew because I would have full on panic attacks lasting hours. I would constantly think about ending my life, but he kept saying how he would end his life if I left him.

His family cut him off completely from all the past times he had substance abuse and used them. He felt like his family had forsaken him. I became his only lasting support system. So I stayed. And we continued to live together. And there were moments of complete utter joy, and we began to envision our future. I took charge of our finances. He would give me every penny, and he would have an allowance. I slowly learned to trust that he would not buy drugs with that allowance. Everything else went to our savings to eventually buy a house. I ended up having to use the savings during times when he would make reckless decisions like quit his jobs that would pay decent money. But I stayed even when I had many opportunities to leave. I stayed in the midst of all the heartache. I had my fair share of flaws too with jealously, panic attacks, depression, stress. And I would yell at him often and turn little arguments into big arguments. But despite all of that, when anyone else would leave, he stayed. We became dependent on each other in a way.

During that time, I knew he was bipolar, but it didn’t seem extreme enough. He would see many therapists and doctors for his addiction, and no one diagnosed him.

Fast forward two years, and he finally found a program that helped him sober up. Everything was amazing. We would still fight every once in a while, but we were the best we were in years. We started seeing his mom and grandma, and I helped him slowly build that bridge. They would call me every once in a while to check on him, and then we would go to dinners together. I decided to quit my job and start studying for my real estate exam. I had my own savings, so I had prepared monetarily to give myself three months of not working. We were looking at engagement rings and started planning our future together. He does construction, and I’ve always loved design and real estate. We were going to flip houses. I loved this man with everything I had. I felt like he loved me. He kept calling me his angel and saving grace, and I felt it. We completed each other, and even after three and a half years of living together, we were just as romantic and lovey dove has the first time we said “I love you.” Our lives were completely intertwined. I was so happy that we finally made it through all those tough times—or so I thought. I was always taught that when you love someone, you are there for them. That is unconditional sacrificial love.

It feels like my life fell apart yesterday (Friday). All of this happened while I was out of town at my parents’ house. I’ve felt heartache and betrayal before, but not like this. I was out of town getting my car fixed. It would snow on the grapevine so I couldn’t make it back home to him in time. He went out drinking often starting about a week before I left to go to my parents’ house. Also a week before I went to my parents’ house, he was seeing a new therapist, and it brought up his father issues. He ended up writing about it. I didn’t think anything because I felt like he was just trying to process his emotions through writing. He kept going to mall speakeasy. I told him how that frightened me because the last relationship I was in, that was my biggest clue that I was getting cheated on, which triggered my first panic attacks and depression attacks. At first he understood. He told me that all the signs that I pointed out made sense. I told him I cannot lose my best friend. He was always loyal, so I didn’t think he would cheat, but my past trauma made me paranoid. He told me that he wanted to take me out on a vacation together and that he would ease up on his drinking.

(Wednesday) He kept going to the speakeasy while I was gone, and I told him that I was worried he would spend too much money. He told me that I can no longer control him. Whenever I was out of town, he would either go with me, or we would FaceTime each other multiple times a day. He kept telling me he was writing his book and he would hang up. He is convinced that he is writing this book that will change the world. And that he will make millions off of the book. We would FaceTime every night, and fall asleep on FaceTime. This was our usual routine when I wasn’t home with him.

(Thursday) Since he was saying that I couldn’t control him, I gave him space. I called him once in the middle of the day just to see how he was. I usually tell him I love him. He kept telling me he loved me and couldn’t wait for me to be home. I usually tell him I love him, but something stopped me. I didn’t say it back because he kept going to the bar even though he knew how uncomfortable it made me. I should have said it back. Then he said he was meeting a writers group and for me to “bless” his evening. I responded with, “No babe, it’s still afternoon so I will bless your afternoon.”

He heard “no” and freaked out. He told me he needed someone to love him unconditionally and then hung up. I asked his friends to check on him while I was gone to make sure he was safe. His best friend called me telling me he is delusional, and sounds insane about writing this book. Then his mother left me a voicemail asking me to call her back. He didn’t FaceTime me when he got home that night. I called him over and over and left a voicemail and text.

(Friday) He sent me a text at 5:00 am telling me that he hit a cornerstone. He was extremely excited. I FaceTimed him right away, and he instantly looked different. Everyone thinks he’s full on insane, but I later realized it was metaphorical. He told me he was Lucifer, the fallen angel or the devil. He was God’s (His Father) favorite son and had everything which symbolizes his childhood. And he and God got into an argument yesterday, and he gave him the keys to his own kingdom (hell). I think this symbolizes how his family cut him off, and how he feels that he deserves his punishment. He said that he no longer feels pain and dares people to strike him with a bullet. He said that I asked him if he did something crazy or cheated on me. He told me he wrote me a letter. He used to write his dad letters since his dad was the only one in his family to refuse to talk to him. He said that he didn’t cheat, but he doesn’t want to be monogamous anymore. He even told me to have a threesome with my under-aged sister.

I was in a panic. I called his best friend. We didn’t realize that it was a manic episode and we didn’t want him to hurt anyone since he kept saying he’s the devil. And the plan was for me to drive back and for his best friend and I to convince him to check himself in. His friend decided to go see him alone, and I stayed with his family. He ended up seeing a psychiatrist for intake. He refused to check himself in, and the doctor told him that it wasn’t the place for him because it’s an asylum not a mental hospital/detox center. They ruled out drugs except for weed and alcohol. The doctor told his best friend that he had bipolar disorder and he’s having a manic episode—his first full on manic episode. When his best friend asked what the doctor said, he told him the doctor said he was “normal.” He told his best friend he was just going to sleep instead of seeing the doctor again, and he ended up taking a nap and going back to the bar. He hasn’t sought out medical treatment for bipolar. He was seeking treatment for his opiate addiction but maybe not anymore since he thinks he’s invincible.

(Saturday) So now I’m sitting here writing this at 4:30 am trying to figure out my next steps. I know I should have self-respect and leave especially if he said he didn’t want to be monogamous anymore and said really vulgar things about my baby sister. It will take a lot to figure out how to uncouple when our lives were so intertwined. We were not married, so I can’t just call a divorce lawyer. Everything is under my name—bills, his truck (that I ended up paying for for the past couple months). He doesn’t know how to pay the bills. Paying to cut off my contracts early. Taking my name off the lease and any credit problems that might cause. I can no longer afford the apartment in La Jolla since he refused to give me money for bills this month.

I want to be there for him, but I don’t think I can physically be there anymore. I want him to seek treatment, but I don’t think we should be a couple anymore. His friend told me that he thinks he didn’t know how to react when I went to my family’s house. I did everything for him so he didn’t know what to do with himself. It makes me feel guilty because I feel like it triggered a connection with me and his family leaving him or not believing in him. He didn’t realize that me leaving for a week was temporary and I would come back. We weren’t married and it was too draining financially and emotionally already.

I am moving back to my parents’ house and will not go to the apartment alone because I don’t know what to expect. I haven’t seen him yet or called him yet, and it’s taking all of me to not call him or see how he’s doing. I’m trying to give him space. I am afraid of the aftermath of the manic episode. Will he even regret everything? Will he let me leave? Will he go back to heroin? Will he end up homeless? Will he get an STD? I’m afraid that he will end up in a coffin. I’m afraid he won’t be able to take me leaving him. I’m scared. I love him so much. And I know it’s the mania talking not him. But that doesn’t mean I should keep getting into more debt and trying to help someone who doesn’t want to be helped. I have always been the one to love unconditionally, but I also deserve to be loved unconditionally back.