My dear husband Christopher and I have been living apart since just before the new year turned this year. We got into domestic disputes, and it was always a lot of discord. It ended in the advice that my husband find another place to stay. Now he stays at transitional housing for people with mental health issues (we both have diagnoses which require us to take psychiatic medications and have social workers and doctors, etc.) and our baby boy David who we had last year is with foster care since I had another round of psychiatric illness on April 5th or 6th around my father’s birthday. That’s a triggering date because of my father’s suicide in 2001 or 2002. It’s getting easier, but sometimes I still have pangs of grief.
Since the separation started, we have had phases, but now it’s looking promising. As I talked about in an earlier entry, we got into counseling with a woman who works at his housing facility. She’s really been very helpful and understanding even though it might be out of the ordinary for them to accept a client such as myself who no longer lives there even though I used to be a client of the program.