I don’t know how long I’ve known or how long I’ve pretended not to know the truth. It always lay underneath my thoughts, purposely shoved to the side, shoved down, away from my conscious mind. I just did not want to deal with what the truth could mean. To me and the family I’ve worked so hard to build and support. The truth is I’ve always known the truth.
The truth is, my husband is mentally ill and it’s a problem that I’m not sure I can deal with anymore. His illness has not been named or diagnosed and there are no medications or therapy sessions. But it’s true and I have to come to terms with this reality. There, I’ve said it. It has been released from my heart and into the stratosphere and I don’t know what to do or say next.