Hello All. I'm thankful a place like this exists, where we can all come and share with each other and support one another. While I'm not new to BPD, I am new to accepting it as a part of me. This particular story, while it starts closer to 18 years ago, will be picked up around 7 years ago, when I met the girl of my dreams.

It was 2009, and I had just met my wife. I moved across the country, from North Carolina to Nevada to be with her, and fast forward a year and we are married and expecting. I wish that it was at this point that I could say that we lived happily ever after, but that would be false. While we both had issues we needed to work on in our relationship, this isn't about her, my wonderful caring wife. This is a story about my coming to terms with my own devils.

The year was 2011, and after a failed attempt at long distance counseling with an old pastor of mine, I believe I went into my first full fledged episode. I can say that now looking back at it, having learned what I know now. I moved out of the house, sought extramarital sex, thought I was happy, and then it ended. It ended with me feeling lower than I thought I could ever feel, looking back and surveying the damage. My wife at this point hinted at the fact that she thought I may be bipolar, a notion I rejected.

Fast forward now to 2014, and while I'm sure I know what triggered it this time (and last time now that I think about it), it didn't stop me from going full swing again. Again, I moved out of the house, only to move back in a month later, to again wake up and see the damage I've caused and the havoc I've wreaked. Again my wife brought up the idea of bipolar, which I took a little more serious this time, going to a therapist and participating in marriage counseling with my wife. I stopped going to therapy after about 4 weeks though, as I was frustrated with the fact that I felt like I wasn't being taken seriously. I never went back, and convinced myself and my wife that I was fine. I was "diagnosed" with bipolar at that point, but they never gave me a complete diagnosis, and every week was the same answer, while they asked the same questions.

Now here we are in 2016, and I feel I've had the most severe episode that I could possibly imagine. I've moved out of the house (again), had an affair with a woman that my wife more than hates, and with good reason, and have separated our finances, among an entire host of other issues that have accompanied the previous two episodes as well. I'm writing this on the downhill side of my swing, where I feel somewhat depressed, guilty for what I've done, but more myself than 2 months ago.

It is at this point that I fully recognize the severity of my issue with bipolar. All of the research that my wife has done, all of the things that I have read, I feel like a textbook example of what can happen without treatment. It is also at this point that I am most desperate for help. I'm scared of what the future holds, and I don't want to get help for people around me, but for myself, to better myself.

I write this now with my marriage in ruins, with little to no hope for salvation. A fact that I'm terrified to face. I love my wife dearly, and I know that I have put her through hell. I don't want to lose her and I feel that she is slipping away, but at the same time I don't blame her. No matter what happens though, this is the beginning of my journey to healing myself and my loved ones. Too long they have been subjected to my issues. I'm going for help and treatment and biting my nails as I wait to see the future of my marriage. For reasons I will not mention here, I'm absolutely afraid to my core of what's to come both with my marriage and life in general, but I know that no matter what happens, I have to get better. That is my focus now. Thank you for reading, and thank you for having me.