Hi everyone,
I just signed up and wanted to take a moment to introduce myself and lay down my experience up to this point with my spouse who was recently diagnosed with PTSD.
First off, my name is Dave – I’m 31 and have been marred for 4 ½ years. I have a 2 year old boy who is the love of my life and a wife who also is 31 years old. We met going on 10 years ago where we work (she no longer works for the same business).
My relationship with my wife was a very good one for the first few years of us knowing one another. We were married in 2007 and it seems like a lot of things started to go downhill from there. After around a year of being married, a bit short of a year, my wife and I moved in with her parents so we could stop paying rent and save up to buy a house, which we did a year later. Moving in with her parents turned out to be one of the worst experiences for us in our relationship. For the majority of the year that we lived there, she slept in one room and I slept in the other. This had never happened before with us but she was very distant with me socially, intimately and sexually. I could probably count on both my hands the amount of times we slept in the same bed. She drank regularly, not in large quantities but 2-3 drinks every night like clockwork, which again had never happened before. Somehow despite all of this, she managed to get pregnant during that time.
The pregnancy was difficult for both us – for her the difficulties were physical and emotional and for me the difficulty was dealing with her emotions. We bought a house that I didn’t particularly want (out of our price range IMO) but she wanted. When it came to doing the work on the house, it was all me because of the pregnancy (which I have no problem with) and she would come in after the work was done and tell me everything that was wrong with it. She often had panic attacks and bouts of depression – sometimes they would last hours, sometimes days. I chalked it up to her being pregnant although it wasn’t the first time these things had surfaced, especially during the time we lived with her parents.
After the baby was born, things didn’t change that much between us. In our new house I was regularly sleeping in the guest room and she was sleeping in the master bed. I woke up with our son most of the time and took care of night time feedings so she could rest. The panic attacks and depression was ever-present. She had her good days and her bad days but mostly the two mingled with one another on any given day – hours of happiness followed by hours of panic and depression. Work was hard for her and only got harder. As I fast forward, understand that until January of this year she had a boss that, for the most part, treated her well. In January her boss left and another person replaced her who treated my wife (and pretty much every other employee) horribly. The stress of the workplace really started piling up – panic attacks went from being two-three a week to being daily, sometimes multiple times a day.
In July she finally had break down and I took her to a local mental health institution where they put her into an outpatient program from 8-3:30 everyday. This is where the fun really begins…
Now, before I get into her therapy, I need to talk about my own history. When I was 18/19 I was stupid – plain and simple. I attempted suicide and was placed in an inpatient setting for the better part of 2 months, followed by a month outpatient, another month inpatient and another 2 months outpatient. My reason was silly when I look back on it (boy meets girl, girl breaks boys heart – yada yada). When I look back, I recall all of the meds I was put on – the various diagnoses – the group therapy, etc etc. Ultimately, I feel that much of that wasn’t needed and that what I really needed was a good therapist to talk about my issues and that didn’t happen until I got out of the hospital’s various programs. During that time afterward, I had a lot of time to reflect on who I was (at that time) and who I was prior to the meds and made a decision that I was going to get off the meds and continue to get therapy. It worked out well, I felt better in the end and know to this day that I’m a stronger person for what I went through. The hospital therapy sessions were terrible on hindsight – there was so much coddling and telling patients that “this time is for you”. When I got out of those programs, my therapist and my family were able to remind me that I was never a bad person and that everything couldn’t be about “me” that I had responsibilities to my friends, family and, of course, myself. I learned balance, assertiveness and the skills to work through issues that come up in day to day life.
Back to my wife. Since she began the outpatient program I haven’t seen much of a change. Her therapists in the OP program did much the same as the therapists in my program did – telling my wife that this time needs to be all about her an healing herself. She was diagnosed with PTSD due to some past experiences – the main one being that her dad used to beat her viciously (confirmed by her younger sister who didn’t get the beatings but witnessed them). This occurred mainly between the ages of 7 and 14 with my wife and typically when her mom wasn’t home. Since beginning the therapy, she has been put on 3 different medications, all of which have sedative effects and are taken in bulk one hour before she goes to bed. It is scary to me how hard she sleeps. She doesn’t hear me – she doesn’t hear our son. I’ve taken on the majority of the work around the house – cleaning, laundry, taking care of our son, earning the bread…buying the bread. She has really taken to heart the words of her therapists by taking sometimes full, sometimes half days to herself to work on herself. There is no intimacy between us – partly because of what is going on with her and partly because of the resentment I feel for her in neglecting everyone else in her life.
She recently was released (last week) from the outpatient program and now has full days at home – we agreed she is not going back to work at the same place (currently on short-term dis). I have expectations of her as a wife and as a mother and they aren’t being met. She cries about things she needs to help her. Case in point – we have a room in the basement that since she moved in was to be her art room. She would whine and cry and express how she needs to work on her art room to get it ready for herself (note: the room was finished but she wanted it finished differently). So we picked out paint and last week while she was at her session, I took off work so I could start the painting. I finished all of the trim before she came home and I brought her downstairs to show her the progress – her response to it was how I didn’t do what she wanted because she wanted a different brand of white paint for the trim. *sigh* Ok, we argue a bit about her never being happy. Through the week, we worked together to get the majority of the room completed. Saturday night, I couldn’t sleep so I went down to finish touching up the trim and walls and to set up her art table. Sunday morning I bring her down to show her the “completed room” and her response – she doesn’t like the lighting, we need to get new fixtures, I missed spots, the floor needs to be washed. Not even a thank you. We argue again.
Later while my son is napping I finally said it – “I am falling out of love with you. I’m doing everything I can to try and keep you relaxed, to do things that are supposed to make you happy and all I am met with is contempt. It is now your choice to decide if this relationship is going to work. I either am or am not going to be here with you in 6 months and that is up to you. If you want me to stay, you will stop feeling sorry for yourself and start accepting that there is responsibility in life and that your family is going on without you.” She cried much and told me she doesn’t want to lose me.
I am tired…very tired. I am stressed. I left out a lot of details above because I would be here all day writing my intro. I still love my wife. I feel that love is an all-encompassing emotion. I don’t love her figure, or love her looks, or love her intellect, or love her hair, eyes, etc. I love my wife because of all of these little things about her that I like. The problem is the biggest part is that I don’t like who she is right now – I don’t like how she behaves, I don’t like how she treats me, I don’t like how she neglects her family. I am trying so desperately to hang on, to help her through this “in sickness and in health” and I am simply wiped. I’m drained. I feel that love decaying within me and being replaced by all-out resentment.
I’m tried of her meds that don’t work. I’m tired of psychiatrists that don’t listen. I’m tired of therapists that coddle her. I’m tired of her believing all of this garbage about “it’s all about you”. It’s fine to be “all about you” when you have no other responsibility in life but as a wife and mother it is NOT OKAY! I’m so frustrated and just need to relate with some people who can understand what I’m going through. I can fill in details as we go along but for now that’s the gist of what’s been going on. Thank you for reading J
I just signed up and wanted to take a moment to introduce myself and lay down my experience up to this point with my spouse who was recently diagnosed with PTSD.
First off, my name is Dave – I’m 31 and have been marred for 4 ½ years. I have a 2 year old boy who is the love of my life and a wife who also is 31 years old. We met going on 10 years ago where we work (she no longer works for the same business).
My relationship with my wife was a very good one for the first few years of us knowing one another. We were married in 2007 and it seems like a lot of things started to go downhill from there. After around a year of being married, a bit short of a year, my wife and I moved in with her parents so we could stop paying rent and save up to buy a house, which we did a year later. Moving in with her parents turned out to be one of the worst experiences for us in our relationship. For the majority of the year that we lived there, she slept in one room and I slept in the other. This had never happened before with us but she was very distant with me socially, intimately and sexually. I could probably count on both my hands the amount of times we slept in the same bed. She drank regularly, not in large quantities but 2-3 drinks every night like clockwork, which again had never happened before. Somehow despite all of this, she managed to get pregnant during that time.
The pregnancy was difficult for both us – for her the difficulties were physical and emotional and for me the difficulty was dealing with her emotions. We bought a house that I didn’t particularly want (out of our price range IMO) but she wanted. When it came to doing the work on the house, it was all me because of the pregnancy (which I have no problem with) and she would come in after the work was done and tell me everything that was wrong with it. She often had panic attacks and bouts of depression – sometimes they would last hours, sometimes days. I chalked it up to her being pregnant although it wasn’t the first time these things had surfaced, especially during the time we lived with her parents.
After the baby was born, things didn’t change that much between us. In our new house I was regularly sleeping in the guest room and she was sleeping in the master bed. I woke up with our son most of the time and took care of night time feedings so she could rest. The panic attacks and depression was ever-present. She had her good days and her bad days but mostly the two mingled with one another on any given day – hours of happiness followed by hours of panic and depression. Work was hard for her and only got harder. As I fast forward, understand that until January of this year she had a boss that, for the most part, treated her well. In January her boss left and another person replaced her who treated my wife (and pretty much every other employee) horribly. The stress of the workplace really started piling up – panic attacks went from being two-three a week to being daily, sometimes multiple times a day.
In July she finally had break down and I took her to a local mental health institution where they put her into an outpatient program from 8-3:30 everyday. This is where the fun really begins…
Now, before I get into her therapy, I need to talk about my own history. When I was 18/19 I was stupid – plain and simple. I attempted suicide and was placed in an inpatient setting for the better part of 2 months, followed by a month outpatient, another month inpatient and another 2 months outpatient. My reason was silly when I look back on it (boy meets girl, girl breaks boys heart – yada yada). When I look back, I recall all of the meds I was put on – the various diagnoses – the group therapy, etc etc. Ultimately, I feel that much of that wasn’t needed and that what I really needed was a good therapist to talk about my issues and that didn’t happen until I got out of the hospital’s various programs. During that time afterward, I had a lot of time to reflect on who I was (at that time) and who I was prior to the meds and made a decision that I was going to get off the meds and continue to get therapy. It worked out well, I felt better in the end and know to this day that I’m a stronger person for what I went through. The hospital therapy sessions were terrible on hindsight – there was so much coddling and telling patients that “this time is for you”. When I got out of those programs, my therapist and my family were able to remind me that I was never a bad person and that everything couldn’t be about “me” that I had responsibilities to my friends, family and, of course, myself. I learned balance, assertiveness and the skills to work through issues that come up in day to day life.
Back to my wife. Since she began the outpatient program I haven’t seen much of a change. Her therapists in the OP program did much the same as the therapists in my program did – telling my wife that this time needs to be all about her an healing herself. She was diagnosed with PTSD due to some past experiences – the main one being that her dad used to beat her viciously (confirmed by her younger sister who didn’t get the beatings but witnessed them). This occurred mainly between the ages of 7 and 14 with my wife and typically when her mom wasn’t home. Since beginning the therapy, she has been put on 3 different medications, all of which have sedative effects and are taken in bulk one hour before she goes to bed. It is scary to me how hard she sleeps. She doesn’t hear me – she doesn’t hear our son. I’ve taken on the majority of the work around the house – cleaning, laundry, taking care of our son, earning the bread…buying the bread. She has really taken to heart the words of her therapists by taking sometimes full, sometimes half days to herself to work on herself. There is no intimacy between us – partly because of what is going on with her and partly because of the resentment I feel for her in neglecting everyone else in her life.
She recently was released (last week) from the outpatient program and now has full days at home – we agreed she is not going back to work at the same place (currently on short-term dis). I have expectations of her as a wife and as a mother and they aren’t being met. She cries about things she needs to help her. Case in point – we have a room in the basement that since she moved in was to be her art room. She would whine and cry and express how she needs to work on her art room to get it ready for herself (note: the room was finished but she wanted it finished differently). So we picked out paint and last week while she was at her session, I took off work so I could start the painting. I finished all of the trim before she came home and I brought her downstairs to show her the progress – her response to it was how I didn’t do what she wanted because she wanted a different brand of white paint for the trim. *sigh* Ok, we argue a bit about her never being happy. Through the week, we worked together to get the majority of the room completed. Saturday night, I couldn’t sleep so I went down to finish touching up the trim and walls and to set up her art table. Sunday morning I bring her down to show her the “completed room” and her response – she doesn’t like the lighting, we need to get new fixtures, I missed spots, the floor needs to be washed. Not even a thank you. We argue again.
Later while my son is napping I finally said it – “I am falling out of love with you. I’m doing everything I can to try and keep you relaxed, to do things that are supposed to make you happy and all I am met with is contempt. It is now your choice to decide if this relationship is going to work. I either am or am not going to be here with you in 6 months and that is up to you. If you want me to stay, you will stop feeling sorry for yourself and start accepting that there is responsibility in life and that your family is going on without you.” She cried much and told me she doesn’t want to lose me.
I am tired…very tired. I am stressed. I left out a lot of details above because I would be here all day writing my intro. I still love my wife. I feel that love is an all-encompassing emotion. I don’t love her figure, or love her looks, or love her intellect, or love her hair, eyes, etc. I love my wife because of all of these little things about her that I like. The problem is the biggest part is that I don’t like who she is right now – I don’t like how she behaves, I don’t like how she treats me, I don’t like how she neglects her family. I am trying so desperately to hang on, to help her through this “in sickness and in health” and I am simply wiped. I’m drained. I feel that love decaying within me and being replaced by all-out resentment.
I’m tried of her meds that don’t work. I’m tired of psychiatrists that don’t listen. I’m tired of therapists that coddle her. I’m tired of her believing all of this garbage about “it’s all about you”. It’s fine to be “all about you” when you have no other responsibility in life but as a wife and mother it is NOT OKAY! I’m so frustrated and just need to relate with some people who can understand what I’m going through. I can fill in details as we go along but for now that’s the gist of what’s been going on. Thank you for reading J
