For the Love of God, Will No One Help?
Am I asking for too much?
For the last five years, I have been haunted by memories of events that I cannot change. So many times I have sat crying into a tissue in despair. Absolute despair.
I wanted to change what happened, which, of course, I couldn’t. I would rationalise to myself that if I couldn’t change it, then please, could someone help me to understand it. I would pray to a God I now question. If there truly is someone, something as powerful as we want them to be, then why do bad things happen to good people?
Five years ago, I became a carer for someone near and dear to me, my now ex-wife. She was diagnosed with bipolar disorder after a manic episode. This led to her being hospitalised for several months. It has been a cycle of mania and depression since then, with only brief periods of normality in between.
My world has collapsed. Her world, her life, has been destroyed. Never to be the same again, she has battled on relentlessly to no avail. I have lived every despicable moment with her.
There have been times when I could have easily given up, but my commitment to her as a husband and as a friend stopped me. Her family abandoned her. Too full of their own selfish emotions, they left her to her own devices. I have memories of pleading with them to spend time with her. To visit her in the hospital.
Did they realise what a horrible existence, what a hell she was in?
Could they not spend just a few hours to give her support?
How does a mother abandon her daughter like that?
Of course, they couldn’t. “You're a big boy; you can take care of it,” I was told on one occasion.
So I did. I have, and I still am. Even though we are no longer together, an eternal bond remains. A bond that will never see me desert her. Her friends did not understand, so suddenly, they were all too busy to spend time with her. The bond has tested my belief in marriage, family, and friends, but it will survive all of these.
Throughout this whole process, my emotions have been challenged. I felt sympathy and empathy for her. But I also felt anger and frustration toward those who let her be treated poorly at times during her care. How can these professionals, who took an oath to help others, harden their hearts? They seem to feel nothing about the despair in her eyes. Someone who is begging for help, for some small element of hope and inspiration that it will be all right.
Many nights I would return home from seeing her in the hospital to an empty house. I learned that loneliness can be both beneficial and destructive. If you were alone, you didn’t have to explain yourself or your feelings to anyone. You didn’t have to apologise for not being happy or for explaining your sadness.
It also meant you had no distraction from your feelings. Emotions became raw. Sadness dragged me down. Guilt questioned whether this was in some way my fault.
Did I do something to bring on this affliction?
Was I doing enough?
Today, as I write this, my wife is dealing with the depths of depression. If I am honest, to a lesser extent, I probably am too. I have adapted to a life of solitude. A life that is far different from what I imagined it would be like when I was retired. I often sit and reflect on how my values have evolved. I no longer have any faith in society, friendships, or family.
What will be will be. All I can do is try to survive and try to provide the support and care that I can to help my wife get through her situation. I want to see her happy and enjoying life again.
I see and hear stories about mental health, and they either make me sad or angry. Sad because I have some idea of what these people are going through. Frustrated because, despite what change-makers claim, not much really changes. I can’t give up for her sake or mine. However, the journey has left me feeling weary, both emotionally and mentally. I am not the same person I was five years ago.
Till next time,
Calvin
Submitted to the 'Maps of Self' contest:
About the Creator
Calvin London
I write fiction, non-fiction and poetry about all things weird and wonderful, past and present. Life is full of different things to spark your imagination. All you have to do is embrace it - join me on my journey.


Comments (4)
Your commitment, even after separation is incredibly moving. It’s clear you’ve given more than anyone should ever be expected to give yet you still show up.
I do know how it feels my mum was like this and everyone left me too it as she was just to hard to look after. She would spend 6 to 8 weeks at a time in hospital. When she came home it was ok for a few weeks then start up all over again,each time harder as while in hospital she would watch and say someone put there self on the floor she would doit too. Often she went to bed at 5 pm so I went at 6 just incase she got up and fell down stairs. She died in 2001 after telling me that was the last time she would be in hospital as she will die there. She did too at 3 am on the 5th Sep 2001. A Sad life
OMG, Calvin, this is awful and I’m sorry. You are living hard times but in “sickness and in health, so true to a marriage oath. As we age, sometimes it seems we are just living day to day and the weeks disappear and a new one begins. At least that is where I am right now. You have a purpose and are meeting it. This world is nuts - never have I seen it so chaotic and hard to take. So often the human race is disgusting and selfish. You selflessly care for your wife. ❤️ Nature helps me. I wish you some good times to remember, friends who uplift you in person or via the phone or internet, and peace of mind and spirit.
I feel for you, Calvin. I know exactly what you are going through for five years now I have been taking care of my mom 24/7. Nine years old, completely blind, unable to walk, she has been diagnosed with major depressive disorder, and she is in the advanced stages of dementia. It is very hard dealing with her. On top of all that she’s also incontinent, so guess what I get to do. A few things would’ve helped me is to continue on with the prayer even if it feels like it to not helping believe me it is helping. Second I do speak with a therapist once a week we do a Zoom call on Wednesdays and that helps a lot. I also have About half a dozen different friends that I call and speak with on a regular basis that helps. I have also joined a few support groups on Facebook for caregivers that has helped. I wish you the best.