the marriage fight

Posted By on Dec 26, 2013 | 3 comments


I should have known something was wrong on Friday. The night before, my friend Nate and his wife Jess and I, drove 2 plus hours on a whim to go worship with Bryan and Katie Torwalt in Harrisburg, PA. I called Danielle, who was in Athens for the night with Fitzy, and told her to drop her plans, and come with me. She responded with something like, what is wrong with you? You work tomorrow. We can’t just drive to Harrisburg tonight. I told her it was fine if she didn’t want to go, but I was. After worship, we ate at the Outback (my favorite) and made the trip back home. Some hanging out once we got home made for a LATE night, but the next day I was peppy and ready to go, while my friend Nate was dragging around.

I should have known something wasn’t right.

Let’s rewind a bit.

That Monday I was mowing the lawn. As I drove past a certain tree I felt God prompting me to “Go, take Fitzy and pray for your friend Ralph.” Now, I hadn’t seen Ralph in forever, but I knew he had some form of cancer. I dismissed the notion as just something I came up with. However, when I rounded the yard again I got the same impression, so I figured, “OK, I’ll go.” I called to make sure it was OK for us to come and Ralph’s wife said if we felt called to come pray, then we should.

I called my buddy Dan, and he was in, in a heartbeat. I went to my parents’ house to borrow the anointing oil, got Fitzy, and picked Dan up. Off we went to Ralph’s.

When we got there I explained what happened and how I thought we were supposed to pray for Ralph, and how I thought Fitzy was definitely supposed to pray as well. We got started praying and then I had Fitzy do a “repeat after me” prayer. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. When we got to the part about “healing” Ralph, Fitzy screamed it out. Dan and I both had goosebumps.

Now, I’m not saying we’re anything special. I just felt called to go and pray. That’s all.

This led to a chain of events that got me to Harrisburg on a Thursday night after work, which we already covered. Just remember it was a super late night, and the next day it didn’t seem to faze me at all, while my friend, Nate, was definitely dragging.

Friday we went to Danielle’s parents’ house for the night before we made the rest of the trip for vacation on Sunday. As we drove over I talked almost incessantly about all sorts of stuff (moving, buying a house, canceling our beach trip, and all sorts of crazy stuff). I even told Danielle at one point we had to make a decision RIGHT NOW about what we were going to do. Again, I should have known something was wrong. She did. She kept asking me to slow down, calm down. What on earth are you talking about?

That evening, unbeknownst to myself (and still would be to this day if Danielle hadn’t told me what happened) I perused some material on my in-laws computer I had no business visiting. Later on that evening, or early morning Saturday, I found that material in the open tabs and freaked out because I thought it was from Danielle’s dad. I told Danielle we had to leave RIGHT AWAY, at 2 AM. I wasn’t comfortable at all. I couldn’t sleep. I remember staying up and asking friends online what I should do in the middle of the night. What I should have done was gone to sleep, assuming that I could have slept at all. What I should have done was not opened that computer in the first place.

Danielle had a wedding on Saturday and I didn’t feel comfortable staying at her parents after the events of the night. Danielle had confronted her dad and asked him if he had been looking at the stuff on the computer. I was terrified that he wouldn’t react well to my accusations. Danielle dropped me off in Troy on the way to her wedding and my uncle picked me up and took me home. Danielle came back to Mansfield on Sunday morning to pick me up and head for the beach, even though I firmly believed that we should not go.

Again. I should have known something was wrong.

On the way to the beach, we stopped to visit our friends Beth and Ben for the night. We met Beth and Ben on Facebook and have never met in real life before, so it was awesome to connect with them. We hit it off right away, which I knew we would. We felt like long lost friends. Little did I know that they hadn’t invited us down, but I had told them we would be coming.

I wanted to take Danielle to the church I had visited on Thursday night, since I had such a great time there. It didn’t work for Beth and Ben to go so we made the “trip” ourselves. During the course of worship I took Fitzy out to the lobby, since he was getting a bit antsy. While we walked around, I noticed a woman who was frantically searching for something. Turns out she had lost her phone.

The more I watched I learned she was the director of a worship school taking place at the church. She needed that phone to stay in touch with people.

When I went back in to switch off with Danielle a girl came up to me and asked whether or not I had seen the lost phone. Right then I felt God telling me we should give her one of our phones. I told her to find my wife and we would help them out.

Long story short, that didn’t fly with Danielle, and we ended up retuning to Beth and Ben’s with both phones in hand.

The next day we left for Ocean City, MD, a favorite vacation spot for our family. I was feeling good. Too good.

And then I got a phone call from my supervisor telling me I needed to take a prank video we recorded at work off YouTube. I kept asking him why and he said my boss wanted it deleted. I proceeded to call my boss and press him for an answer, which he gave.

I think that’s when things really started going downhill. I wasn’t thinking right and was making decisions at the drop of a hat. I drove over 8 hours to the beach, talking the entire time. About new jobs, new houses, new decisions.

We arrived at the beach and I was full of energy, talking almost incessantly. I was aggressive and hostile, to an extent, without any idea how it was affecting my family. I felt invincible. Apparently I also thought I was rich and extremely good looking. I was barely sleeping. Maybe getting two hours or so a night.

I even told Danielle she was released of her wedding vows. Now I don’t remember this at all, but Danielle assures me I did, several times. I told her it was OK for her to leave and that I would be fine. I would be fine never seeing her or the boys again. God told me. I mean, where does that come from? It’s amazing Danielle didn’t up and leave or at least smack me senseless right then and there.

I thought several times I was going to die. I mean seriously die. Like at any minute. It was scary and not, at the same time. My dad just held me the last time. I thought I was going “home” for sure at that point and it was wonderful just having dad there. Even though I hadn’t been treating him well either.

It all came to a head when I sat my family down in the middle of the courtyard at our condo and lectured them about how they needed to be on my side and support me. I feel awful for anyone who had to witness that train wreck. I gave my family an ultimatum. Either you’re on my side or you’re not. For some decisions that I explained were lifelong dreams for me. Things I felt God calling me to do. NOW. Things that they had never heard me talk about.

Thank God they all said “yes” or I wouldn’t be here right now.

I told Danielle I needed my phone for an hour so I could talk to my friend Dave. She had been begging me to get off my phone and spend some time with everyone. We talked for I don’t know how long about all sorts of things and then I went back to our room, handing over my phone.

That’s when it hit me. My body just couldn’t keep up with how fast my mind was moving anymore. I had a light lunch and then laid down for a nap.

That’s when things got really bizarre. When I woke up from my nap I had absolutely no idea what day or time of day it was. I barely knew where I was or who I was with. Little did I know Danielle had prayed this into being.

I’m told I also spoke with my doctor who informed my family I needed to be taken to the hospital immediately.

Danielle, my dad and I left for the hospital while mom stayed with Fitzy. On the way to the hospital in the midst of my jabbering I predicted some of the people who we would meet, even as far as saying one of the women we would work with would be named Mary. I made all sorts of stock predictions and rambled on about google, apple, and facebook. I made Danielle and dad promise to invest our money in them, because by this time tomorrow, we would all be millionaires.

I don’t remember much about the first hospital except that they showed me it was in fact the day everyone kept telling me it was.

The hospital didn’t have the facilities to handle my condition so I had to be transported to another hospital. Instead of an ambulance I was taken in a police vehicle instead. Since I was riding in the front seat I had to be handcuffed. On the way there the female officer and I had the nicest conversation.

At the next facility it was clear we were in a psychiatric center. There were people there who clearly had issues. As if I didn’t at the moment. After spending what felt like an eternity in my room I was sent back home. The doctors told dad and Danielle they have me enough medicine to “knock me out” for the night. Wrong. I kept jibber jabbering all the way back to the condo. I fell asleep and popped up two hours later, ready to go for the day, at 2 AM. Mom stayed up with me that night and then Danielle took the morning shift.

The next day, I told them I needed my phone. Danielle kept telling me that I had told her to take it away from me. That I didn’t need it, but I did need it to check the stocks and see how much money we had made. I told them that my phone needed to be in my hand by 9 AM, or else. Danielle and Fitzy left with mom, telling Dad to take control of the situation. Thankfully my dad talked me down and at one point I told him that I wanted to go home and see our doctor and maybe spend some time at the hospital. We had arrived at the beach on Monday afternoon and left on Thursday morning. We packed the car and headed home. Well, not home, but to Soldiers and Sailors hospital where I was soon admitted and voluntarily checked into the behavioral health unit.

Now, I had a lot of preconceived notions about what a BHU was. Boy was I mostly wrong. I was treated incredibly well, had a nice clean room, got to watch TV on a flat screen and even play the Wii during activity time. I got to experience group therapy, which is not quite the way it’s portrayed in most movies and TV shows.

I saw people worse off than me. I lived with drug addicts. I saw what it was like “on the inside”. And like I said, for the most part it wasn’t bad.

Not to say I wasn’t having issues. I was. I was attracted to just about ever female that came my way and figured they felt the same way. Thank God I didn’t do anything, if I could have, with any of them.

While I was in the BHU I was diagnosed as Bipolar 1. Looking back I’m not sure how I felt about the diagnosis. I guess I was confused, scared and didn’t believe it at first. Let me tell you, there’s still a part of me that doesn’t want to believe.

But I was in a hurry to get out, Bipolar or not, and I did after 5 days.

But that was too soon. When I was home I was irritable. And jumpy. Controlling. When I walked into mom and dad’s, mom turned on the blender, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Then there was the golfing incident. Dad and I went golfing at Corey Creek Thursday afternoon and I made the decision to purchase a new set of Calloway clubs. Dad didn’t know that when I went into the clubhouse I was going to come out $2,000 lighter in the wallet.

Large purchases are a warning sign to look out for in Bipolar it turns out.

My family decided I needed to go back to the hospital, and I, reluctantly, agreed. I demanded that only Danielle take me, and unbeknownst to me, my dad followed. While in the ER, Danielle confronted me about the golf clubs, she had found out through my friend Jason, and I told her to leave. I didn’t want to see her. So she did.

My second stay on the BHU lasted 10 days. Again, I was treated so well and even put on a decent amount of weight due to the great food. Yes, you read that right. My hospital food was great. Or at least it was in my still somewhat manic state of mind.

After leaving the hospital I started counseling and I now see a psychiatrist regularly. Again, it’s not like the stereotype I thought it was. I’m on a combination of medications to help me not get too high or too low, and at this point, they seem to be working well.

I tell you this story for several reasons. This can happen to anyone. Any one of us. And to say how thankful I am for my mom and dad and my in-laws. And how thankful I am for Danielle. She was a rock for me when my whole world was literally flipped upside down. She was my stability when all she wanted to do was run. She didn’t and wouldn’t give up on me.

Even after I dropped a giant bombshell of a secret on Danielle and flipped her world upside down right after I was released from the hospital, she stood by my side through the pain of it all.

Danielle was “in deep”, and she saved my life. I can never thank her enough.

At several points in my story I didn’t know how or didn’t even want to fight for my marriage. I didn’t even know what was going, on let alone know how to save my marriage from the wreckage I was putting it through.

But. Even though things were terrible I kept telling Danielle “it will be OK”. Now, hearing this from someone who is having a breakdown isn’t necessarily reassuring, but somewhere inside I knew things would be OK. Our marriage would be OK, even while I was telling Danielle she was free to up and leave. Even when I was saying things to her that I can’t even bear to think about, let alone repeat here, or even remember.

I don’t know why I went on summer vacation and ended up diagnosed as bipolar. I wish I did. It still doesn’t seem fair to me. I can only speculate at this point, but someday I’m sure I’ll have a better understanding.

Even though I didn’t know it this summer, I was “in deep.”

And I’ll never be anything less.

3 Comments

  1. You’ll be fine JB… Good word… Keep your eye on the ball! I love you man!

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    • what an amazing experience. God bless you for coming out on the other side.

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  2. Thank you, Jared, for sharing this. As I read what you wrote it was very reminiscent of things I have dealt with over the course of the past 2 years. The spending, the irrational behaviors, the incessant talking, the extreme statements coming out of my mouth…all of it…I was there as well. None of the behaviors above were “me.” I have always been able to say that I am a selfless, kind, generous person. My love of family and friends always exceeded my love of self – or at least I tried to always put others first. Until the bi-polar beast reared its ugly head…
    During my manic period (and eventual nervous breakdown) I felt like a caged animal. I felt like I was emotionally pacing around in a small space — trying to figure a way out.
    I quit my job of 17 years. — because I could not handle all the stress brought about because of the job, all the changes being made to and ‘around’ my job… it was all just to overwhelming!
    I probably should have, but refused to go to the hospital. I slept on our couch for two weeks — probably 20 hours a day — ignoring my young children and husband.
    I prayed a lot — sometimes to get better and sometimes to be set free.
    There are many bits and pieces of my life that I cannot remember from that time. And, like you said, that is probably for the best.
    Since then I have found a medical practice – including psychiatrist and counselor – who are helping me manage this illness through medication and some life changes. I am doing/feeling much better, but there are still days that feel like I am in a dunking tank.
    I pray that with each passing day the challenges that this illness has brought to your life will decrease…and we will begin to live our lives with a sense of normalcy.
    Again,
    thank you for sharing your story.
    ~God be with you as you continue this unpredictable journey~
    Jenny

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  1. 10 Years ← define: Jared Barden - [...] I don’t think there are words that accurately express exactly what I/we went through. If you want more detail, …

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