You may or may not recall this blog entry from a little over a month ago.
To make a long story short, I later found out she didn't much recall that weekend. After fighting with me and insisting I get therapy "or else," a little pill-popping fixed her right up. Or rather, it seemed to.
That terrible time was a giant red flag that should have brought life to a halt so that everything could get sorted out.
I don't have the energy to go into a long tale right now, but over the long holiday weekend, my wife tried to kill herself - or at least was desperately trying to get some attention/help. Based on some of her other actions during the crisis, I can't quite buy the "it was just for attention" thing, and yet if she had wanted to kill herself earlier in the week, she could have without being stopped.
I managed to drive her to the hospital myself and get her committed. At first, she blew up my phone with angry text after angry text about what a horrible, hateful person I am and what a terrible wife and mother's she's been, and how our marriage is over and how I picked the wrong woman to marry. Every 50th text or so would be something like "Can't you see I need you most at a time like this?" Mind you, this was both while I was in the room and when I was home gathering some of her stuff. But when I'd try to hug her or hold her hand, she'd push me away.
After a day of being there, she was getting better, and the next day she was like the woman I fell in love with and married. Or maybe she just knew that all she had to do was refrain from doing anything in front of the staff and then they'd have to let her out.
Where does this story wind up? Well, that will have to come later. As will something my in-laws told me that they really should have told me a lot earlier. Like, before I married into their family and made babies. But one thing's for sure... it was a Thanksgiving holiday I'll never forget.
