Raj was a beautiful man. He was a good man. He was a caring man. And he was smart. And we were in love, and had a good life ahead of us. A life we'd both worked hard for. And it was all going our way. And with perfect timing, Amanda was on the way.
And before I could squeeze her out, he lost his mind.
Life took a wild turn.
He has schizophrenia and depression. He suffers for it. We all did.
I finally divorced him. We were together 14 years (married 11). He couldn't be helped anymore, least of all by me. He was a lost cause.
That sounds mean and I don't intend it to be. He became a person that no matter how much you help him, you haven't helped him at all.
I grieve for him. For what he might have been. For what mental illness took from him, and took from us.
A year after the divorce, he left. Disappeared. He resurfaced after two years. He's living in the family home, in Calcutta. There hasn't been much contact since then.
Having contact with him is hard. It is like looking into a crystal ball and seeing exactly where Amanda is headed.
She is his child all the way; all his wonderful goodness, and all his terrible demons. It breaks my heart. Because she suffers too.
Trop, there's never a guarantee that any child heads in exactly the same path of their parent. She has half of your genes in her, too.
I think you're a fabulous parent, and I have a feeling that despite how difficult this letter is, you'll write one that will make him proud of his daughter.
I have to write a letter.
5 comments:
Ugh is right :(
Dont' envy you that one. Just get something on the paper- that is always the hardest part for me.
Without meaning to be intrusive and being a lurker, I'll understand if you choose to ignore this, but why?
Poor thing. I wouldn't know how to start it either. Well, I know how I'd *want* to start it. But, that probably wouldn't be helpful.
Why?
Because it's all too fucking sad. That's why.
Raj was a beautiful man. He was a good man. He was a caring man. And he was smart. And we were in love, and had a good life ahead of us. A life we'd both worked hard for. And it was all going our way. And with perfect timing, Amanda was on the way.
And before I could squeeze her out, he lost his mind.
Life took a wild turn.
He has schizophrenia and depression. He suffers for it. We all did.
I finally divorced him. We were together 14 years (married 11). He couldn't be helped anymore, least of all by me. He was a lost cause.
That sounds mean and I don't intend it to be. He became a person that no matter how much you help him, you haven't helped him at all.
I grieve for him. For what he might have been. For what mental illness took from him, and took from us.
A year after the divorce, he left. Disappeared. He resurfaced after two years. He's living in the family home, in Calcutta. There hasn't been much contact since then.
Having contact with him is hard. It is like looking into a crystal ball and seeing exactly where Amanda is headed.
She is his child all the way; all his wonderful goodness, and all his terrible demons. It breaks my heart. Because she suffers too.
Trop, there's never a guarantee that any child heads in exactly the same path of their parent. She has half of your genes in her, too.
I think you're a fabulous parent, and I have a feeling that despite how difficult this letter is, you'll write one that will make him proud of his daughter.
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