Life took a real, hard and shitty u-turn on me this week.
The Theory: I'm having a bio-chemical reaction, from possible faulty pancreas. Its only been put out there, by my dad... but at one time, he was THE Biochemist in the United States, people paid a LOT of money to, to build them really kickass, HUGE labs and run them. Dow Corning, Bio-Science, the big boys. They finally built their own, then turned it around and sold it. Hasn't had to work a day, since he retired right before 50. He was also, regularly an expert court opinion.
The Story: Anyway, back to me. Dad's a big deal Biochemist, that has a theory based on a consistent/repeating pattern with my health. My health is being terminally threatened every 5 weeks. For 4 weeks, I'm fine. I can handle my anxiety, depression, anger. Turn the other cheek is my motto, along with pay it forward. Something goes wrong in week 5. Hair-trigger and just can't let off.
This week it cost me a trip to the hospital, Child Protective Services over our shoulder and the 3 of us (wife, daughter and me), staying in 3 different residences. I've destroyed my wife's phone and had to give up mine in the process (literally, my entire life is on that phone... they were using it at the hospital for my records and meds). I've lost a potential $20,000 crop which is now sitting over at my father-in-law's house withering to die, because he refuses to turn the lights on, because my wife has been telling him, what an asshole I was (my wife is one that, never says sorry, or only admits error on minor things, like the name of a movie or similar). You would think, the light would go on however, and he would realize by taking it out on me... he's hurting our family even worse. I don't have ANY income. My wife doesn't either, as the paper route was taking more than it was giving. She has to quit. I can't put another $500 bucks, TWICE, 5 months apart on tires and brakes. We're literally living day-to-day money-wise, just to keep gas in the car.
Medically, since Wednesday I've been unable to keep my BP in the normal range. I keep jumping up into the aorta go *POP* or >>RIIIIP>> range. They kept me overnight, to supposedly monitor me, but was really just to get her and my daughter out of there and have me talk to Social Services. Now my wife is pissed at me, because I told the truth. The truth was, we had a 3 day fight, day 3 it went nuke. She was still pissed about the refund money I had spent on Mother's Day (yes, this is all over fucking $33). It got nasty and I told her, she wasn't getting any favors from me and I was taking my car keys. When I reached into her purse, she jumped on my back and started wrestling me for it. Then she grabbed my phone, kept wrestling. Then she grabbed my laptop. The last time, she went for it... was with a 2 gallon pitcher of water. I wasn't taking the chance... ripped it from her hand and grabbed, what I thought was her phone and smashed it into the wall. Imagine how stupid I felt, when I realized I had just thrown MY phone. I then wrestled her, for the other one and that one... went CRASH and SMASH wall to floor. Stupid, huh?
I don't know why... but it just ended at that point. I told her to get the fuck out, she left... I collapsed minutes later. Blacked out... hit the floor. Woke my daughter, told her to call 911. Then the real shitstorm began.
The Conclusion: Something's wrong with me. I'm broken. I've grown weary of broken. I'm scared of what this is, why my emotional balance just gets thrown all out of whack, after 4 weeks. I'm either very angry or very depressed and it takes the one thing it just can't fuck with... and does with it, as it pleases. I question... why the fuck am I still here. I grow tired of not finding an answer and just sinking deeper and deeper into this pit. How the fuck I can still think suicide, is chickenshit and selfish, at this point... is beyond me. But, I do go to bed... sometimes hoping not to wake up. Living life in 4 week chunks, over the last 2 1/2 years has taken a heavy toll. And actually, that's only 1 real year of anything you could describe as "recovery".
I'm also scared to find out, there isn't anything additionally wrong with me. I'm just an asshole that can't control my emotions.
They say, what doesn't kill us, only serves to make us stronger? I feel like I'm just being tortured to death slowly, and having to watch those around me, suffer the consequences. I don't have a fucking weapon in this fight.
What's Hell got, that I haven't already been through? Fucking bring it, so we can settle this shit!
(EDIT: And a shitty reminder above me of how this escalated. Had I just the chance to talk with my therapist. Got to wonder about Karma and who's side she's on.)