After we got the trailer our topics of conversation changed. Where we used to discuss all manner of things about the property, now all I would hear about was what he was doing with the trailer. If I tried discussing something I was doing with the house he would just tell me to be quiet, to zip it. Sometimes it was because he already had too much to think about; other times it was that my plans made no sense. He started telling me that I was delusional, that I didn't really have a good grasp on reality. I thought he was referring to my construction ideas.
October, then, was time to make a supply run to Northview. Chuck didn't want to go, so he made a list of things he needed, which I bought for him. Instead, while I was away his plan was to go into the basement of the house and run a 220 power line out to the trailer so he could use the baseboard heaters he has installed. It would be getting cold soon.
I go, I shop, 6 hours later I'm back. While I was there I drove by Bernie's, but his camper still wasn't in the driveway.
When I get home Chuck doesn't come out to get his stuff. I unload mine then go over to see what's up. He is in a fervor; his computer is dead. He has been working on it all day, but it's gone.
I tell him not to worry, I'll find him another one. I know how important the internet is to him and I will start looking online for a used computer. I really can't afford to buy him a new one right now, but I know there are lots of good used ones out there. Microsoft just put out a new system so lots of people should be looking to get rid of their older ones. I'll search the local classifieds and then call him if I see one that seems right. If he is interested I will get a phone number he can call and they can talk about it. Then I will go pick it up and pay for it, provided it's only a few hundred dollars.
It took two days to find one. It was at a computer repair shop in Northview. The price was right and it was a very good one, an XP. Once again Chuck didn't feel like going. So, when I was in the shop to pick it up, I put Chuck and the salesman together on my cell phone, to work out any issues. I only wanted to be the delivery person, which I told Chuck several times. I also drove by Bernie's once again. I still saw no camper.
When I later pulled into my driveway, I expected to see a happy recipient of the gift I just gave. Instead, I had to carry the boxed computer to the trailer. This was about 3 in the afternoon. He came to the door, took it, said thanks, and went back in to set it up. I was relaxing outside about 40 minutes later when he yelled across the yard, “Where's the disc?“ He stormed towards me.
“What disc? I asked the salesman if there was a Windows disc and he said he explained to you that you did not need a disc, just the registration numbers, and you agreed to that. You have his phone number. Call him if something isn't right. Don't kill the delivery girl.”
I barely remember exactly what was said next because it just blew my socks off. I swear, those beautiful hazel eyes turned black. He said, “This isn't working out; you never do anything right.” Then he accused me of stealing from him. There was stuff in my house that I had taken from him without even asking. He had never met anyone who could do such a terrible thing, stealing from a poor man.
He mentioned a small stool in my kitchen. I tried to remind him that back in the spring, when he moved out here, he one day filled up his truck with stuff to take to the dump. He was tossing out a little, crappy wooden stool with peeling paint and I said, “I'll take that. I can use it.” So he handed it to me.
Then he says something about the green rugs he saw in my house and how they were his. I obviously stole them on the day I helped him move. I have 3 green rugs and I know, beyond a doubt, that I purchased all 3 of them, because of the drafty floor. He tells me that I am delusional. Now, I was pretty fed up at that point, so I got up and went in. I can't try to talk to him because if I try to talk to him, he tells me not to. Anything I say is just trying to justify my (wrong) actions.
I think about this for a couple of days and tell myself he's just cranky. I've known lots of cranky people in my life. If you love them you just learn to deal with the cranky times by stepping away for a bit. They'll get lonely after a while and get back in touch.
Sure enough, he called and apologized for blowing up. He remembered giving me the stool. He still thought, though, that some of his things were over here.
“Yes, there are things of yours over here.” And there are, but he put them in here when I first bought the place and here they have been for years. Some boards, an old chair, a couple of candles, I don't even know anymore what is whose. No green rugs, though. So I say, “If I give you $200 would you feel compensated for everything and we can just put this behind us and move on?“
“Well...., okay. I have a list though, and I'm going to add it all up. I'll give you the list.”
I still never have seen that list and really have no desire to. But, I go over to give him the money and that's when he tells me that he realizes that he has a brain problem and he has had it before, so he is going to go and get medical help. I just need to stay away from him for awhile because I am part of his problem and he really needs to talk to a psych doc about it.
See? He loves me, he just has trouble admitting it and this sets up an internal conflict. I tell him I think that it is a very good idea to seek help and I will do whatever it takes on my part. Nothing in the world means more to me now than he does.
I started looking online for information about mental disorders. I started in that same chat room where we met, which had a forum about mental health. I wanted to learn more about bipolar disorder. I had read a little about it and realized I had seen the manic/depressive stages in Chuck many times. So I was asking people online for any good websites. I found and read some, plus I made a few new friends. One was a guy who called himself Dog.
I posted:
I don't understand what is going on with my husband to be. He gets in these rages and goes for weeks without speaking to me even though we live in the same place. Then suddenly he'll get all friendly again as if nothing happened. This is putting a lot of stress on me but I really do want to understand what he is going through. I think he might be bipolar. Does anyone have any insights or suggestions that might help us get through this? Dog wrote back to me in a private message and included an essay he had written a few years prior. It explained how he had been brutally cruel to his family and friends and was finally admitted to a hospital where he was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. After some years of hospitalizations and different drugs and psychiatrists, things finally turned around for him and he was able to become a normal person again who could keep a job and get along with people. He said he hoped his story would give me some hope that my situation could be improved, as well.
I found another website which was all about bipolar disorder and I paid $100 for a book that really explains what you have to do if you want to live and survive with a person with bpd. It's a huge book with lots of information and it says it requires a major commitment. I was willing to make that commitment, though. I love the guy.
I saw him outside one day and he said hello. I asked how he was doing and he said pretty good, except he really wished he was able to use his new computer. I asked why he couldn't use it and he told me it was because he did not have the XP software disc. He was afraid to try to use it, that it would crash and there would be nothing he could do about it. He didn't want all that money I had spent to be wasted.
So, I got online and ordered a new software disc, $300. It was here within 3 days and he was very happy. He even actually kissed me on the cheek when I took it over to him. At long last, it looked as though everything was going to be okay again.
