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The time at home between my first and second operations was pure torture, both mentally and physically. I was in sooooooooo much pain!

I knew Rhett would not be much help, but even I was shocked by his almost non-stop anger and hostility. He refused to take care of himself or help by doing little things like putting his own dishes in the dishwasher.

As I said before, I think his reactions were a mix of fear, mental illness and disability. Caring for Rhett through thick and thin has worn me to a nub.

I love him…but I sure don’t like him. The easiest days of our marriage are very difficult….and the hard days almost unbearable.

My life has been spent walking on eggshells, hoping he wouldn’t blow up. But he always did, several times a day 😦

I don’t think any person could ever be perfect enough. He is always mad. The first trips in my power chair were to get him a new cellphone and buy soda. Whenever Rhett was lacking anything he wanted, he took it out on me. I didn’t get kudos for trying so hard, but I sure got flak when things weren’t perfect. I honestly don’t know how I could have tried any harder.

Rhett’s traumatic brain injury plus repeated concussions and being bipolar are not his fault. Even though dealing with it all was awful, I married Rhett and promised “in sickness and in health”. I figured it was my job to tough it out.

This last time when I got to the hospital in a blaring ambulance, I was even more of a mental basket case than I was physically sick. A few social workers/caseworkers were assigned to me.

They were very firm with me that I needed to get domestic violence help and get Rhett out of the apartment and my life. I gave them all the usual excuses that I make for his behavior. They gave me all sorts of materials on domestic violence. When it came out that I had fled to a woman’s shelter last year, they were even more adamant that something be done NOW. It was repeatedly pointed out to me that Rhett was absolutely capable of making different choices with different people.

I have been fantasizing about how to get out of this relationship ever since I got back in it. There was no way I was willing to be homeless again. Rhett said he would NOT voluntarily move out.

The months from August to now were full of immeasurable mental and physical pain and suffering. I felt trapped and scared 😦

When the social workers told me to take Rhett’s name off the lease, have the locks changed, etc., it seemed waaaaaay too easy! I had no idea I could do that. Management seemed relieved I was taking those steps. Rhett’s yelling and bad behavior were already legendary here 😦

Rhett’s ability to use his cellphone correctly has dwindled by the week. He keeps turning the ringer off and misses most calls. His message was also missing the beep at the end, so nobody could leave voicemail. I tried calling his aunt to fix the phone, but that didn’t work, either. I went for a week without even hearing from Rhett. When he did call, he hung up on me twice. I couldn’t even tell him he was no longer living with me.

He and his aunt were going to come see me one night. I was finally going to have a chance to talk! They stopped at the apartment first to discover the key fob to get in and the key to the door didn’t work. He called, screamed at me and hung up.

That was that. We have not talked.

His mother, who would call for every holiday to invite Rhett to holiday get-togethers, would tell him I was not invited. Rhett’s parents have NEVER been to our apartment…and they come into SLC regularly. You can imagine how their treatment of me took a huge toll on our marriage.

Rhett hated talking to them and even programmed his phones so he wouldn’t have to answer if it were them.

Suddenly Rhett’s mother is his biggest champion. She has texted me 51 times since June 25th. I was anxious to get Rhett’s stuff to him. He took off with his aunt without his meds, CPAP, clothes, support stockings or money. He knew when he left it was going to be weeks for my recovery.

I am now expected to pack up Rhett’s stuff. I am only allowed to lift 7 pounds. I did a few boxes by putting them on the floor and bringing small amounts to the boxes. Wore me out! Today Heather brought boxes to me that I sorted through. She held up things from the closet and I would say “Rhett’s” if it went in his box. Still a bunch more of the house to sift through. LOTS of work!

I fell asleep in the late afternoon when Heather and the kids went back to their hotel. I woke up at 11PM in pain from going since noon without Mestinon and Motrin and 3:30 PM since my last oxycodone. Ouch and weak!! I have the A/C cranked up and a fan blowing on me.

I had a not very comfy bed. Heather bought me a memory foam/gel pad…and took off the too small futon and the 2 pieces of mismatched foam. Wow!!! Luxury! 🙂 Now it’s way easier to get in and out of bed.

I haven’t been all that hungry. I was in the morning, then my guts just sort of sat there like a lump.

Life has been EXTREMELY hectic between being harassed by Rhett’s mother, dealing with doctors and home health, the pharmacy, logistics, etc. No wonder I conked out so early!

Only one more day of Heather and the kids 😮 I am really going to miss them! But they have been away from home for 2 weeks. That’s an enormous sacrifice!!!!