Ex-military forced to retire at 44 (28 years) due to injuries. Have chronic pain. Was on massive doses of opiods for 5 years (I have an apparent resistance). After two years on opiods, they made me physically ill; bed ridden 3 years with flu-like systems, nausea, bowels issues, and the worst, vertigo. At the time had the perfect family: like the Brady Bunch. Was very much in love with my wife, have two beautiful children that I have always been super close with. In University now, super-closeness remains. After 3 years in bed, finally found a rehab that would take me (apparently the opiod doses were SO high the others were really afraid of my heart stopping?). Got off them, thank goodness, but too late I guess. After the BEST thanksgiving and Christmas in years (her words), in August my wife wanted a divorce. It was a shock to me: she had become a bank manager, was working way too long hours (12) a day, but really was in a position in life that she had not had before; she used to be rather timid and not outspoken. Of course, since she was doing the work of two people, the bank loved her. And she was also excellent in her new position. But she started to really ignore myself and the kids in favour of work. Tried different ways of approaching her, with the help of my psychologist (whom I have talked in person or on the phone with every 2 weeks for 11 years now), but nothing worked, so I was just supporting her (Oh, had to stay late at work hon?) type of stuff with the advice of my psychologist. We had such a good marriage, I honestly thought, naively I guess, that it would pass. We had settled in her hometown with her excellent family (parents, brother, sister and all cousins) which is where I wanted my kids to finish school as well. Unfortunately, only a year into the posting, surgery to correct an increasing painful back condition (95 percent success rate) went bad, and i found myself in almost unbearable chronic pain and have been ever since. The depression, anxiety, and PTSD symptoms followed in the years after. I was very active, in good shape, and being unwell and not being the physical type Dad I used to be led to depression first (where some smart Doctor's also diagnosed PTSD, which I denied for four years because I did not think it was affecting me), anxiety, and I guess from not being as active as I had been, thinking about things I had done in the service that I had never been OK with, but had stuffed them away successfully in a folder where I thought they remained. I am not sure, because of the wonderful family and extended family I had (her brother was my best man, her Dad became my best friend, and her family became my family: I had no real family of my own; my father was abusive to my Mother, who passed at 61, and myself and two brothers so we scattered as soon as we could. My brothers and I have never been close since, and after my precious Mom died, my Father being so cruel all the time has led to us not speaking for the last three years; I tried everything, but at the advice of my Doctor's gave up for the best of my own health) that I would have had Depression, and Anxiety and PTSD creep up like they did. A lot of time in personal misery, then bed ridden probably speeded that up. I would like to say with the military's help, I am in the care of the best Doctor's (Psychiatrist, Psychologist, family Doctor, treatment Doctor's etc). I really don't think I could have more caring professionals in my corner.
Anyways, as it turned out, my wife had told pretty much everyone about our "problems" except me. She would not discuss anything with me. I said I would do ANYTHING to work it out, but by then it was too late I guess. She wanted her old husband back, and well, that couldn't happen. Most days I guess I don't blame her. I had NEVER been abusive in any way, and the kids relationship and mine, despite my pain and illness, continued to grow. Actually, the hardest my now estranged wife cried was when she found out she was not entitled to my disability money, and only 23 years of a 28 year pension; not even half. Because of my grief, I offered her incredible settlements; thankfully some good military buddies stepped up and smartened me up. They said it's just a business thing; get a lawyer and do what is right. Thankfully, she did not accept my extremely generous offers because her lawyer, whom she fired in six months for doing nothing, assured her that she could get more money out of me. A buddy had said "what if in a year she is moved in with another guy, are you going to be happy giving away all your money that she was never entitled to?" Thankfully I listened because that is exactly what happened, except it was a brand new house she built. As it was, I didn't touch any parts of her pension, and of course was extremely generous with child support, which I would have been anyway. She has very well off family who jumped in. Her half a million house is paid off, and the new guy owns a paving company. We had also saved very well, and the kids University was pretty much paid. I really never found out the truth until a year later; some of her friends did not buy her stories of abuse of her and my kids and my misusing of prescription medications ( which I NEVER did; I could never get high off it anyways)and had called me and told me what she had been saying.
It was the middle of COVID, and NO houses available within an hour of the family home. Not a damn thing. I was lucky to find a small, newly built 1000sq ft home with a heated garage in a small town where a grocery store and pharmacy were minutes away. I am comfortable in that sense; on my worst day I can still get my needs and be back at home in 15 minutes. But.....I am absolutely alone in a town where three years later I still know no one. Of course I am not as able bodied, so it's not that the townsfolk have not been kind. I guess being ultra-private, and being raised to NEVER complain with a heavy hand does not help me either. Her family which had become my family ( her parents were our best friends, we even holiday'ed together) believed her, which of course I understand. My wife was one of the sweetest people I had EVER met in my life, and certainly did not lie. But she did this time. Understandably, because leaving a beat up veteran, with physical and mental issues would not really not make her look good, she did have to have a story. I know that I played just as big a part of our marriage crumbling, but I will never know what it is I exactly did because it was never discussed. And honestly, I did not think divorce was even in her DNA. I was stupid enough to think it would pass; it was actually the only bad part of our marriage since we communicated so well, and were so close with our children. Our children had lots of friends, but spent most of their time at home because we had fun. Supper was a fun event. As they got older, we got even closer. I am glad that when they were younger we did ALL the things good families do if they can afford it; camping, sports, outdoor activities etc. This all stopped when the chronic pain started (when they were about 12 and 15), but it then turned into movies, books and lots of great discussions. My kids are incredible adults now, and my best friends. My military buddies live far away, the ones I was closest with over the years of a career. My last posting we had tons of couple friends! I remember we had four couples over for dinner, and two days later I had the surgery on my back that I absolutely needed, but went horribly wrong. When I blasted the two bottom disc's initially, they tossed out bone chips into the nerve path. They actually should have been removed immediately. It was a year recovery, had to learn to walk again, but it was complete, and not a problem until the pain started down my leg so intensely I could not do the yearly military fitness test. Went in for day surgery. Scar tissue moved in and encapsulated the nerves. And that was that. The WORST thing: those great buddies I had met at this new posting never contacted me again, and I never went back to work at all. Funny, I thought the military was a family, and with the closest friends I made, it is. But this posting was just like any regular job. Once your done your forgotten in every way. My wife will learn this too. Unfortunately, she put her job above the kids, her health, everything. Now she manages 3 banks. And the bank pays one salary. They love her, and she has always been an incredible worker and Mother. But I don't recognize her now. A stranger. She caused the kids real pain too, choosing work and the new guy over them, and almost lost her daughter over it. But I stepped in and helped. I want the best for my kids, and that includes their Mother. She now has realized some things, thank goodness, and had a good relationship with both of them, which is best for them as well. It's not just Mom, they get her whole awesome family too, and they really are good people. They were very special and close to me at one time, and my childrens lives are far better with all of them in it. I mean, they didn't do anything wrong.
The last three years have been misery. I do have some hobbies (bought a Harley trike, guitars), but really, have been too much in mental pain, which we know makes physical pain worse, to enjoy much of them. It all came to a head in December. I made a suicide attempt. For some reason, I did not want my kids knowing they found my body in two weeks, so I planned it. I had called 911 three times before, worried that I may harm myself and had gotten NO help whatsoever. Mental Health here seems to be the catch phrase and top new worry in health, but though I can't speak for the rest of the world, here it's a farce. All calling 911 did was make me lose all my precious hunting firearms, ones that had been passed by my grandfathers and meant the world to me. I have always had too much respect for firearms to go out that way, and again, did not want my kids left with such a messy sight in their head to remember me (its so funny how you can absolutely convince yourself the few people left in your life that love you dearly would be better off without you). Anyways, knowing the police took 20 minutes plus to get here, and 6 minutes to bleed out, I got in my reclining lift chair with a boxcutter and a pail, called 911, refused to stay on the phone, pressed very hard on the boxcutter right where I should for a two inch incision that started out great. I let my hand dangle over the pail (neat freak) and closed my eyes. It did really seem like I was fading off nicely, very little pain. I had no concept of time though. The box cutter that I used, instead of a terrific jack knife, I had for ten years. It had dulled from carving wood, rubber, you name it. But being a "box cutter" I thought in my sick mind it HAD to be sharper than my jack knife. I guess I nicked the artery good, but the blood flow slowed down, and of course I didn't notice; still felt like my hand had blood rushing over it. I had opened the door to make it easy for police, and wow, they showed up in 11 minutes I am told. I was weak when they came in the door (lost about a third of my blood I guess) and bewildered when I seen them come in, and with the box cutter still in my hand they had their hand on their weapons yelling, then each grabbed a wrist. I could not put up much of a fight; they applied pressure and the bleeding stopped. Spent a week and half in the psychiatry ward, but thought it was only 3 days as they were administering some meds improperly, causing them not to work at all and my sense of time was lost BIG time. I was determined, I remember this, and got a hold of the metal part of a pen cap and used a little trick I learned in "special" military training; to do a little home surgery and slide the metal part under the skin an inch and a half left of the incision and get the artery again without damaging any tendons. I guess it was taught in case you wanted to go out on your own terms, instead of something awful on you tube. Taught us well, it worked slick, but again got busted in hourly check after losing about a third of my blood. Pressure stopped that as well, and I went home with a well wrapped wrist and antibiotics.
Having to tell my kids in person (adult questions/adult answers) brought me back to reality very quickly. I have promised both I will tell them truthfully how I am doing from now on. So a lot of luck came into play for me to be here, I say luck because I have NO faith at all. Seen and done too many awful things I guess. Impossible for me to believe there is a higher power that would let these things happen. I do envy those that do have faith. But despite my best efforts, its not me.
So sorry for the long read. This is only the third time I have told these things to anybody. Being anonymous is great. But I would be lying if I said I was not pissed occasionally that I used the box cutter. It really is not a great existence. Things have to change so I, with the advice of my Doctor's have decided to join this site in the hopes of getting support from people who know what I am talking about. I am all in; that's why I provided all the details summarized so I don't have to explain to everyone how I got here. This was a very difficult thing for me to do. But like I said, something has to change. If I keep going the way I am, I am terrified I will talk myself into another stupid thing. My kids do need me, and always will. I HAVE to do better, but in 12 years have tried tons of meds, had tons of different treatments (ECT, Ketomine infusions, etc, and now looking at the magnets......) but I still am not well. So here I am. Looking forward to actually connecting with new people for the first time in a long time. Thanks for listening.
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