I know he came home the next day, Wednesday. And, I know I told him to leave again. He spent that night in a tiny motel near our home. But, that day, and the rest of the days following for a least a week, are nothing but "maybe" memories. I think it happened, but don't ask me to bet the ranch on any of it.
He kept trying to talk to me. I couldn't even look at him. (forgive me If I repeat myself. None of this is in focus.) He asked me to go to a family therapist with him for emergency counseling. No doubt this was a full blown emergency. He kept crying and apologizing. I'd never seen him like this. He was such a shell of himself. I truly couldn't bare it. I was beyond crushed. In more agony than I knew I could feel, but I thought he was gonna lose it! I wanted someone else to deal with his breakdown. I figured I could handle mine, but there was no way in hell I wanted to get wrapped up in his shit! So, that afternoon we spent two hours in Dr. K's office. Let her try to clean up his mess.
How can I help you understand this roller coaster? My brain was like scrambled eggs. Thoughts were only fleeting and never became clarified enough for true consideration. Dr. K seemed to get it. For the first few sessions she just let me rant. She tried to pin Richard down with specifics, but she sensed that I didn't have any answers, only an infinite amount of questions. She was very intuitive.
We were in her office everyday for a week, 2 hours at a time. Neither of us went to work. How can you work when your strapped in on the ride of your life? At night, we sat outside in the dark, smoking and, of course, drinking and trying to talk. I still couldn't look at him so talking in the dark was our only solution. I was riding the roller coaster 24/7. My stomache churned and my head ached. Too bad. No exiting allowed. I just rode on, deeper and faster on the manic coaster. I'll tell you this....if it wasn't for my kids, I'd have jumped off quick.