December 2017 was the end of an era and the beginning of a struggle. Why? This is when my marriage of eleven years stopped being a thing. We “both” decided that we had had enough of each other. In reality it was my ex-wife who had had enough of me, and didn’t want to do anything to try and fix it. I was taken back, in disbelief and hurting hard out. I felt I did nothing wrong and that she had just met somebody else. That’s when my paranoia set it, I was convinced that she cheated on me, as not long after I had to leave the family home she was out dating this work colleague of hers.
Now I was no angel. I didn’t treat her the way she deserved I was constantly emotionally abusive, I would tell her I hated her when I was in a depressive state. I was never an aggressive person and would never hurt her, but I believe that my constant emotionally degrading comments were the cause of my marriage breakdown. Now that took a lot for me to say. But if I am being honest I do actually blame myself for breaking up my family.
When the breakup occurred I was quick to get myself a place, I didn’t want to be around somebody who didn’t like me anymore. Generously, one of my friends offered me a place at his to stay which was a sigh of relief. I was only at my friends for a short while until I found myself a nice two bedroom unit. The thing was I had nothing, as it was all at the other house with the kids and I didn’t want to disrupt the kids lives too much.
That sent me onto a destructive spending spree with money I couldn’t never afford to pay back. I bought brand new everything for my new house, used credit cards and loans knowing quite well I was going to get in trouble – but that didn’t matter as I felt invincible. Then, a couple of weeks later I got demands for money from bills my ex-wife had accrued, which added to the ones I had. In total somewhere around the $40,000 mark. I declared myself bankrupt.
Moving forward a couple of months and my ex-wife moves in with this work colleague, taking my kids to. I have a 50% custody arrangement, meaning they’re with me half the time and with them the other half of the time. It angers me knowing another man is pretending to be the father of my kids when I am not there. I think this is one of the things that really grates my gears, and still does.
That’s all I can manage to talk about today, but I am guessing this is what caused my PTSD and triggered my Bipolar once again.