It was almost a year into our recovery. A year of therapy, and exercises. A year of anger, and screaming and what a fucken year of tears. So many tears.
Music Man had an amazing therapist and an equally amazing psychiatrist. His psychiatrist had been treating music man for anxiety when the sex addiction monster appeared. This is the doctor with whom music man fell apart on. The one music man exposed all his demons, his darkest secrets to. This doctor, who was not much older than music man, had a compassion about him that allowed my husband to be vulnerable and honest without feeling any shame.
One day as we were humming along in life, Music Man got a call from the psychiatrist office. The Dr. had to cancel his appointments. So Music Man took the month off and then, the following month, proceeded to call and make a new appointment. That is when he was told his beloved, trusted doctor was dead. He called me in tears. I cried with him. We soon found out his beloved psychiatrist had taken his own life by jumping off the top level of the parking garage of his office. What a massive head fuck! This was not going to be fun…..
The suicide of Music Man’s psychiatrist was definitely a huge bump on our recovery journey. The new psychiatrist didn’t understand why his now deceased psychiatrist had put him on thyroid medication. So she took him off. Ugh, Music Man was not as smooth anymore. He was a little more irritable and after a few weeks was just being a grumpy dick. So in between bouts of fighting, I gently suggested Music Man increase his dose of lithium. He knew he was feeling more irritable, so he agreed.
Although it was not the same magic formula, Music Man was back to a good place mood wise. He just recently went to a thyroid specialist and did some deep blood work to see if there is an issue with his thyroid after all. Stay tuned…..