Jennair, There were times over the past 731 days when I could’t imagine making it to this day, much less…
Let me be very candid and as clear as I know how to be. I was unfaithful to my wife and I make no excuses. In no way am I dodging the responsibilities for my flawed, immoral decisions, my weakness and my abject failure to be loyal to someone to whom I had made promises and loved dearly for twenty-eight years. I lied to her. I betrayed her. There is no justification. She deserved better than that.
I sat up in bed last night, unable to sleep. After a few frustrating minutes of looking around the dark…
Together they were the perfect couple. The perfect marriage. The perfect children. They went to church, ran a successful business, owned two beautiful homes, a Range Rover, a BMW. They had it all.
I am not okay. I may seem like it, projecting a public persona of someone who has their shit together and their emotions in check. During media interviews it may even come across as cold indifference. But it’s all an act, not for television audiences, not the general public, and not even for my friends. It’s for me.
It was Mental Illness Awareness Week, and I could think of no better place to be to tell my story and share the uncomfortable truths I uncovered over the past eighteen months, not only about my wife’s mental health condition, but my struggles to navigate my own grief and come to terms with my overwhelming feelings of guilt.
I just got off a call with someone who is perhaps the most uniquely qualified person in the world to understand what I have endured for nearly 18 months, a nightmare that he, himself has endured for almost two years.
Sometimes Looking Back is the Only Way Forward I didn’t know what to expect. While I had been to Cleveland…
It’s all your fault. You’re a narcissist. I hope you suffer. You deserve to die. These (and many more) are among the hundreds of comments I’ve received in the past few days after the interview I did with ABC 20/20.
It was all gone. Everything. Every piece of furniture. Every book. Every Pot. Pan. Fork. Kitchen knife. Sold or given away. I got into my car and pulled away. For the first time in my entire life I was homeless, but not without hope.