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The Salesman is manic again, delusion,  mixed, psychotic, paranoid, ranting, a hurricane that is building and raging.  And we still get caught up in the storms waves that his madness brings.  He stopped by a last week or two and left his manic altars in my driveway, his garbage on my front lawn, and plates of food, cigarettes, a lighter, incense sticks, a rambling of what his brain produces.  His child support checks have bounced so now I begin the process of filing with the state to claim what is due to me.   It is a long drawn out process which hopefully does not trigger my PTSD, because I will have look for papers and things that I have packed away.   But it is necessary and I have already begun the process.   As I sit here on an early Friday morning, my phone is receiving texts from him, I don’t answer and  it is rambling from him.   He states he is homeless and of course it is my fault, that the kids are puppets that I control, that the children love him more than me, that I am responsible for his homelessness, his financial mess, his loss of his brother, etc, etc, etc.   No matter what it is, it is my fault and of course it is because I didn’t support him enough, love him enough.  All he needed was a hug, and I love you, and I believe in you……… it goes on and on and on and on… manic musings from a delusional mind.      Why is he texting me? and not his girlfriend?   because my phone number is the only one he knows SIGH so why don’t I change the number?    I am letting the texts build up and I can always block his number later, I will probably need to get another restraining order and this will help.  So I did tell Mr Wonderful and he said I should tell the kids, so I did and a somewhat  conversation followed.   Is he really homeless?   I said I honestly did not know.   How could I ?  then my son says he is the victim,  I said yes, he is the victim of his mental illness.    My daughter disagrees because he should have stayed in the system,  in the housing,  in the program,  learned about his disease, etc, etc, etc……………….   Is that possible when you have a mental illness?   Is that possible?   Isn’t that the burden of mental illness?   Yes it is, and it use to be my burden, but it is no longer.   So who’s burden is it?   It becomes the families burden, and when they can’t help, it becomes societies burden, and he is now societies burden.  The system has failed him, and it has failed me.  The guilt that comes with this illness and the hopelessness that you can’t help him because he is at the mercy of his sick brain, it is sad actually that mental illness is treated so poorly.  It is sad that these sick people cannot be helped, so we weather the hurricane that is my ex bipolar narcissistic salesman husband, helpless to watch the damage he does to himself and wait for the knock on the door that will be the police telling me he is dead.  Or the pounding on the door of him in his delusional state trying to get to me.   Bipolar is hell on earth, and that hell is back unleashed.