The Non-Dad Stuff

This is part two of a three part series. If you haven’t read part one yet, make sure you do so here first.

A fact about me that is not known to many people is that I was married previously. I can’t refer to her as my highschool sweetheart, because we didn’t go to the same school. We started dating while I was in highschool though. We worked together at a pizza joint I lovingly refer to as Little Sleazers. It was one of my favorite jobs ever. Little responsibility, an awesome manager, and cool co-workers. Never mind the fact that I made little money, didn’t have a reliable car, and usually worked the closing shift. Have you ever used public transit (city buses) in a high-crime city (Flint, Michigan) at night? I don’t recommend it.

We dated for a few years, then moved to Kalamazoo for a job promotion (I was no longer at Sleazers). Soon after, we engaged and married. A year after we married, things went downhill, fast. We both had our faults that, when compounded, led to us heading in different directions with our lives. She moved out and left me in the apartment, lonely and broken.

A victim to my own thoughts and emotions, I felt less and less connected with the real world. First, I wished for death much in the same way that a traditional emo teenager will when their parents ground them or cancel their WoW account*. Soon, I fantasized on how I would do something like that. Eventually, I found myself actually planning my own permanent escape. Fear gripped me as I realized exactly what I was doing. I immediately called my doctor’s office, and resolved myself to make it to the appointment.

My doctor made me answer a questionnaire. The third question read "Do you ever want to hurt yourself or have thoughts of suicide?"

I completely broke down and sobbed uncontrollably. I suddenly wanted to lie and get out of there, quick. Through my tear-blurred vision I located the box marked ‘yes’, colored it in, and read the next question.

"Do you ever cry uncontrollably, at seemingly random times?"

The doctor and I spoke at length about my symptoms and all the events that have happened in my life. I told that I’ve struggled with depressive thoughts since I was sixteen or so, maybe earlier. We finally decided to try meds, just long enough to get me through the pain of the break-up.

They had an immediate effect, but not exactly what we were hoping for. Without the meds, I experienced extreme highs (manic) and extreme lows (depressive). The anticipation was that the meds would make the highs a little lower, and the lows a little higher, to the level that "normal" people operate on. Instead of dulling the extremes of my emotions, the initial meds simply turned my emotions off. I didn’t feel pain, sadness or hurt. Unfortunately, I also didn’t feel happiness, or surprise, or care.

We changed meds a few times so we could "find the one that works" for me. I noticed no difference between them, but weaning off of one and on to another is something I never want to experience again. It felt like the emotional equivalent of airplane turbulence. Where I would normally feel upset over dropping food on the floor, I would instead fly into a rage and wanted to physically hurt other people. I would scream in my empty apartment, and feel pure euphoria moments later, for no apparent reason.

Being on the meds helped clear my thoughts so I could mentally work through all my problems. That motivated me to file the divorce papers. That also helped me understand that my current arrangement was going nowhere fast. I dumped my married girlfriend, divorced my wife and concentrated on moving forward.

[to be continued]

* Seriously, watch the video. WEIRD