When I started my new life as an astranged father, I tried to do it on my own. I had no desire to depend on anything other than my own self-will. It didn’t take long for me to realize the absence of my children was affecting me more than I could have ever anticipated.  And when Mary made her accusation, I was devastated.

I leaned heavily on my councilor who recommended I seek medical help. Luckily, I found a very understanding physician. He put me on several medications that took the edge off my emotional trauma.  Over time, I stopped taking them and went off the deep end again.

So here I am. Nine years later. Nine moves later. New family and home. I finally found another doctor that understands my problems. We tried a few different medications until we got it right. It wasn’t easy. The first doses put me way over the edge and put me back in the psych ward.  While there, they medicated me to the eyeballs. Even the other patients would look at my cup of pills amazed.

I finally got out and dialed back with the help of my new doctor. She understands me. I trust her. So today, I take my medications regularly. They aren’t too many. It helps me to stay centered and not on the edge. It’s a good thing.

So for any of you who are hurting emotionally, keep trying until you find the right treatment. It can take a while. But never give up.  Life might be throwing you curve-balls left and right, but hang in there and keep swinging.