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Self-Indulgent Pity Party, and Hugs to Those Who Have Been Beacons In My Darkness

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Well, the Owl House saga is on a new chapter, probably the last one.

My husband's behavior has gotten more aggressive, threatening, out-of-control tantrums, etc. over the past months. Then last month, he had a medical emergency and was taken to the hospital. His medical problems were resolved within a few days, but now a dozen medical personnel had witnessed my husband's behavior first-hand.

Given his threats against me (as always, he blamed me because he was put into the hospital), they didn't want him to come home. Fine with me; I can't even remember the last time this house was quiet and my stomach wasn't in a knot. So they sent him to a nursing facility, where he's been for a couple of weeks …driving them crazy too, of course… but Medicare only pays for 3 weeks. Still they don't want him to come home, knowing he is dangerous and my health issues limit my ability to care for him.

Bottom line, I'll be working with the nursing home and social services to find him a private assisted living facility. Looks like I'll be living alone from now on, which is both a relief and a realization that I'm going to be one of those pitiful females wearing a Life Alert button so if I drop dead, my cats won't have to eat my corpse to survive, lol.

So ends my years-long personal pity party! Those who read it, thank you; those who didn't, I don't blame you a bit!
 
I am friends to someone who's husband snapped due to a psychedelic drug and now acts like a manic-depressive. It is rough dealing with someone who loses their ability to fully reason. You have my sympathy.
 

I'm glad to know you're going to be much safer!
 
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