Well, almost three weeks have passed since I first inquired about what to do with my Mr. Mercury (who wants it all, he wants it all, he wants it all and he wants it now), and, as a few amazing, helpful and unbelievably patient people have heard (*waves*), a lot has happened since.
First off, although he'll never read this, I owe that man an apology for my hilarious inability to understand why he did everything he did all at once. I've since gone and done the same (on a slightly smaller scale) and faceplanted in various rather epic ways. Motivation VS personal limits turned out to be a fairly uneven fight, and running straight into one's own mental brick wall apparently breaks the face before it cracks the wall. :banghead:
Still not a big fan of being shut out. Still worried, still insecure, but it certainly is easier to see why he had to choose that path at this time now.
From what I hear from various people who actually are in touch with him, he's really pulled through with it all. He's moved out of his house and currently on leave from the job until the end of the year, struggling to adjust to the life of a civilian before he'll become one in January. His options for the holidays now are to either spend the better part of them alone or to join his son at the ex-wife's place, spending all day listening to how she "needs" more of his money. His insensitive idiot of a brother cannot be helping matters much with the way he's going crazy on the internet, posting all over the place about how amazing, loving and perfect life is for him and the family, now that my guy's no longer in the picture. :yuck:
Bad news is, I also heard from his therapist again. During his latest (and possibly last) stay in hospital, my guy apparently let him know that I have all his files anyway (I really shouldn't, but he got his hands on them and slammed the copies on my table so I'd "know what I was getting myself into"), so it really didn't matter what else I learned (and yes, that does exist in writing). Turns out they just barely scratched the surface of the pages upon pages of military-related issues in there before they ran out of time.
His therapist left the door open for him to return, even as a civilian, but the decision to get therapy will no longer be made for him now. Not sure he'd be willing to voluntarily accept help, stubborn mule that he is. :(
BUT!
Even with all this going on and me being completely aware I wouldn't hear from him again till at least January, he got in touch on Sunday.
It was just one word and a picture, and, as usual, my first reaction was to overanalyze it all until I managed to cram it into my negativistic view of the world, but it was there, and viewed from a less batty headspace, it was as much "us" as anything could ever be. I knew from the start that he wasn't big on words, still needed a few swift kicks in the butt from mutual friends to make me see that the most likely intention behind this was him trying to let me know he's still there, still fighting, still hasn't forgotten a thing and there's a crack in the door that just isn't wide enough to squeeze through from either side yet.
He's since gone straight back into hiding, disappearing from the face of the web the instant I show up. I suppose it's entirely possible he got scared of his own courage and made it even worse now, but with everything that's going on in his life right now, that's just the way it has to be for the moment.
It came at the perfect time, though, just as I was at my lowest and facing the choice to either give up on him or go insane. Flawless timing, as usual. :)
I've since chosen to see this as a positive thing ('cause what else could it be?), we both know now that the other one's still there, we just have to grab on to that glimmer of light and try to let it carry us through these times when we're both getting smacked around by our demons.
Let's see if PTSD can't be out-stubborn'd at least long enough for us to develop new and exciting strategies. :laugh:
To bring this long (LOOOOOOOONG!) story to an end, though, here's the really big question:
How on earth do I keep myself from sending his brother a big bag of flaming dog-poo??
(And incidentally...does anybody happen to have large amounts of dog-poo to spare?)
Stress-free holidays, everyone. I hope you all make it through and find at least some brightness, even if it's not the easiest time of the year.
When life gives you lemons, send it dog-p.....y'know. :)
~Owl :hug:
First off, although he'll never read this, I owe that man an apology for my hilarious inability to understand why he did everything he did all at once. I've since gone and done the same (on a slightly smaller scale) and faceplanted in various rather epic ways. Motivation VS personal limits turned out to be a fairly uneven fight, and running straight into one's own mental brick wall apparently breaks the face before it cracks the wall. :banghead:
Still not a big fan of being shut out. Still worried, still insecure, but it certainly is easier to see why he had to choose that path at this time now.
From what I hear from various people who actually are in touch with him, he's really pulled through with it all. He's moved out of his house and currently on leave from the job until the end of the year, struggling to adjust to the life of a civilian before he'll become one in January. His options for the holidays now are to either spend the better part of them alone or to join his son at the ex-wife's place, spending all day listening to how she "needs" more of his money. His insensitive idiot of a brother cannot be helping matters much with the way he's going crazy on the internet, posting all over the place about how amazing, loving and perfect life is for him and the family, now that my guy's no longer in the picture. :yuck:
Bad news is, I also heard from his therapist again. During his latest (and possibly last) stay in hospital, my guy apparently let him know that I have all his files anyway (I really shouldn't, but he got his hands on them and slammed the copies on my table so I'd "know what I was getting myself into"), so it really didn't matter what else I learned (and yes, that does exist in writing). Turns out they just barely scratched the surface of the pages upon pages of military-related issues in there before they ran out of time.
His therapist left the door open for him to return, even as a civilian, but the decision to get therapy will no longer be made for him now. Not sure he'd be willing to voluntarily accept help, stubborn mule that he is. :(
BUT!
Even with all this going on and me being completely aware I wouldn't hear from him again till at least January, he got in touch on Sunday.
It was just one word and a picture, and, as usual, my first reaction was to overanalyze it all until I managed to cram it into my negativistic view of the world, but it was there, and viewed from a less batty headspace, it was as much "us" as anything could ever be. I knew from the start that he wasn't big on words, still needed a few swift kicks in the butt from mutual friends to make me see that the most likely intention behind this was him trying to let me know he's still there, still fighting, still hasn't forgotten a thing and there's a crack in the door that just isn't wide enough to squeeze through from either side yet.
He's since gone straight back into hiding, disappearing from the face of the web the instant I show up. I suppose it's entirely possible he got scared of his own courage and made it even worse now, but with everything that's going on in his life right now, that's just the way it has to be for the moment.
It came at the perfect time, though, just as I was at my lowest and facing the choice to either give up on him or go insane. Flawless timing, as usual. :)
I've since chosen to see this as a positive thing ('cause what else could it be?), we both know now that the other one's still there, we just have to grab on to that glimmer of light and try to let it carry us through these times when we're both getting smacked around by our demons.
Let's see if PTSD can't be out-stubborn'd at least long enough for us to develop new and exciting strategies. :laugh:
To bring this long (LOOOOOOOONG!) story to an end, though, here's the really big question:
How on earth do I keep myself from sending his brother a big bag of flaming dog-poo??
(And incidentally...does anybody happen to have large amounts of dog-poo to spare?)
Stress-free holidays, everyone. I hope you all make it through and find at least some brightness, even if it's not the easiest time of the year.
When life gives you lemons, send it dog-p.....y'know. :)
~Owl :hug:
