The Next Hurdle

Eric was better—still not himself but at least he wasn’t scaring the tar out of everyone.

How was I?

I don’t know if I can adequately describe my state of:

I’m glad that’s over, whatever it was.

What WAS that?

Now what do I do?

What do I do if it happens again? (Lord please don’t let this happen again).

That’s how I was, and I clearly had questions.

Looking back God was answering them in the only way my stubborn brain would understand.

With a combination of PTSD, relief, hope, naivety, and faith I plowed ahead. We plowed ahead.

We found a psychiatrist.

We found jobs.

We found each other.

And eventually we found answers.

But sometimes the answers were difficult to accept.

Like Eric’s diagnosis from the doctor while he was in the hospital. After releasing him into my care, and essentially saying “good luck finding a psychiatrist. I can’t treat him.”

So we set out to find a doctor that could continue the treatment for Eric’s new diagnosis; bipolar disorder. Just like his father. His biggest fear. Mine too.

But at least I had his mother to lean on. In a way I felt like she was glad to have someone that could understand what she went through for so many years. This however was not comforting for me. Especially when she whispered into my ear standing in her kitchen that she wanted to lay down in the road and die.

But I could relate.

Eric could also relate. To his father God rest his soul. During his time in the psychiatric ward Eric got to experience how my father in law had felt countless times. Knowing he would have to convince his loved ones that he could be trusted and respected once again. That he wasn’t crazy.

Somehow we miraculously found a doctor in Elizabeth City that took patients despite our lack of health insurance. 🙏

I was not allowed to accompany him to his appointment so I nervously drove around for what felt like an eternity. When I returned to pick him up, I wasn’t expecting the update he gave me.

First Eric told me the doctor said he would have never prescribed him Depakote. One reason being it’s harmful side effects on the liver and Eric’s history of alcohol use being a very bad combination.

And more importantly because Eric wasn’t bipolar. He was adamant that the doctor in the hospital had given him a misdiagnosis.

I slow blinked. 👀

As we drove home, Eric, feeling like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders, went on to explain: “What you saw—it wasn’t mania from bipolar disorder. I was experiencing withdrawal symptoms. I was detoxing. I had the DT’s.”

“The DT’s” I said.

Eric continued: “Yes. I was just as surprised. I thought that meant uncontrollable shaking and even seizures. The doctor, who specializes in addiction recovery by the way, said that Delirium Tremens exhibits differently depending on the severity of the underlying alcohol dependency and withdrawal. Toss in the fact that I quit while battling COVID and lost 40 pounds in a short period of time and we had the perfect storm.”

He then proceeded to tell me that he was going to stop taking the Depakote. My reaction to this was not positive. I was not on board with this. At all. And Eric once again felt like he was back at square one. Having to prove himself, just like his father. How would he be able to convince me, and everyone else that he wasn’t crazy? Sadly, his father never had that luxury.

Eric knew in his heart that he was an alcoholic, and the doctor’s words made complete sense to him. But I was scared. I was still processing the last diagnosis and now here was a completely different one. I already didn’t know what path to take and here was another path to explore.

So I needed convincing. I needed to talk to this doctor. I had questions. And if you ask Eric, I always have questions. 🤪

When I spoke with the doctor later that week, he explained that if Eric was truly bipolar, we would’ve known this decades before now. People don’t get diagnosed with bipolar in their 40’s. The fact that he was leveling out had nothing to do with the bipolar medication he was given in the hospital. It takes several weeks, not a few days for that medication to manage symptoms of mania.

Ok.

But I still had questions.

So if he’s NOT bipolar then why would he have exhibited manic behaviors leading up to what just happened?

Such as, deciding to quit his successful and lucrative career as a tug boat captain to grow marijuana. With no money. And he was excited to tell everyone all about it. I mean let’s be real here, there wasn’t one person who hadn’t heard his overly enthusiastic elevator pitch regarding his new marijuana growing venture. No one was safe. And yes I was mortified 99.9% of the time. And also yes, everyone wanted to get the hell out of that elevator and climb the stairs to any destination other than Eric town.

So yeah.

And if he’s not bipolar then why did he quit drinking cold turkey, and only lose his noodle for one night? Have one final drink the next day and slowly decline into another manic episode ten days later? Is that what delirium tremens look like?

Here’s the kicker. I don’t remember exactly what the doctor’s answer was to this question. It was something like “I don’t know but he’s not bipolar. Have him slowly and safely stop taking the Depakote and we’ll see what happens.”

See what happens? I was still recovering from what had just happened. As was our son and my family who had to have him committed. We saw enough thank you very much.

So I put on my brave pants and trusted that God has gotten us this far. And as crazy as the past few weeks had been, I had to recognize that Eric fell to his knees while he was quarantining and asked God to take his addictions. Addictions he for so long denied even having. Hell I did too. You see I could ignore the drinking (even if I knew it was excessive) because I drank too. And then I could focus on his marijuana use and hate that. I could want him to quit smoking it because I didn’t like it. I had smoked enough in the past and it was something I could gladly walk away from. Plus alcohol was legal. That was my excuse and I was sticking to it.

Eric thanked God for everything in his life. For me, and Ethan. And he asked Him to heal his marriage. To be a better father to his son. A better example.

And then God answered in a way that neither of us would be able to ignore.

And it worked. Four years later and my husband is healed. Completely. He doesn’t miss alcohol or drugs. Sure it wasn’t easy at first.

But as time passed, the psychiatrist who diagnosed my husband as an alcoholic, who’s name I can’t even remember, my friend who said “Eric’s an alcoholic”, my therapist who said the same…and my sister who had warned me from day one that he was “trouble”….

Well … damn if they weren’t spot on.

Ok so my husband was an alcoholic and I had denied it for years.

The power of denial is no joke. I even stopped seeing this therapist because she had the audacity to make such a claim. I clearly didn’t want my husband to be an alcoholic, but I also didn’t want him to be bipolar.

It would take years until I found peace in the answers to these questions. Four years later I sit here writing this post reading it aloud to my husband. Both of us in awe as we try to recall our separate states of mind exactly four years prior.

We were broke. A year behind on our mortgage. And now facing medical bills with more to come.

But we survived. And six months ago, 3.5 years into Eric’s sobriety, I went to my new found trusted source of information; ChatGPT and asked my questions. Again. Because yes, even years later, I still needed clarity. Even with my husband fully sober and fully transformed.

Not because I didn’t believe or have peace in my heart that Eric was healed. But I wanted to be able explain it to you.

And back then we had to explain it to our friends and family. More on that later.

Here’s my chat inquiry, in all its glory, beginning with one simple question. A question that stemmed from the response Eric had given me numerous times over the years when I needed reassurance and asked him to once again explain his behaviors leading up to his episode.

“Do addicts have illusions of grandeur?”

(Delusions rather. 😬 The great thing about AI, it can read past my grammatical mistakes and get straight to the point.) Here it is: