Mental illness is like fighting a war where the enemy’s strategy is to convince you that the war isn’t happening. Always remember you’re not the first explorer in the Antarctic wilderness.

Sometimes, okay, most times, I think my wife is psychotic. I am sure my best friend, who happens to be a phychiatrist, is withholding that news from me. I usually tell him to stop beating around the bushes because that’s wasting time, but he insists on following the so-called protocol. He said that one could not diagnose without evidence.

My wife wakes up at 3 and sits on the armchair near the window with lights off.Freaking psycho.The first time I almost tripped on her long legs and it took two minutes to arouse her from her stupor.Am no doctor but am sure this issue is mental.

Now when I happen to awake at the Godforsaken hour I just turn on the lights and go back to sleep.When I ask her she feigns sleepwalking but am sure my thesaurus and my grammar teacher wouldn’t approve of that description for the word.Sometimes I think she has too much power over me else this phychiatrist trip would have taken place sooner.

When I met my wife ,she was a stunning blonde ,witty and full of charisma.I hate to think being married to me turned her into this phyAm pretty sure it’s that book club of theirs aka cult that has done this.She started asking me what I think about the afterlife and I bet that’s when I lost her.

She can be fun too and is the best description of normal when family and friends visit.They’d bluff me if I told them of what’s been happening.She is the role model wife but at night a part of me sleeps half awake.Damn I pay for this house and can’t even sleep well in it.

The last time I suggested the idea of a visit to the phychiatrist didn’t go well.She accused me of calling me mad and didn’t talk to me for three days.I learnt to let go but these new practices have to go.For a woman her age I don’t think it’s the right time to add fossil tatoos on her body.My consent should apply at least if she can’t use her brains.Everyday she steers away from sanity but the outside world can’t see that.

I’ve been working from home since the pandemic struck so am able to witness more of this madness.She likes darkness and darkness likes her.I bet she wonders why I pay electric bills.I have to so that I can keep my head safe.

There’s this look she gives me and I recoil.She knows am scared of her.Everytime she lifts the knife my heart almost skips a beat.She’s introduced Bible study after supper and her favourite book is Revelation.I have nothing against the Holy Book but Revelation is a no go zone for me.I think am the one who needs help.

I think I gave her too much freedom at first that she forgot how to respect the man of the house.Am all for female emancipation but I need this mockery to stop.I am a Christian too and do not experience these side effects so am not sure what it is she’s consuming.

She’s taking pills too.Migraines she says.I don’t know when she started taking them because she hides them well.I thought self medicating was dangerous.I care about her you know but am not sure if I want to cross that bridge.I have to be cautious.

I have already set up the appointment but I don’t know how to get her to attend.I hope they hospitalize her because she needs close monitoring and I need a breather.I’ll get a drink too.With a house like this one you can’t go home drunk.All is set and James knows I need this freedom.I do want her to get well but am not sure we can have the same life we had before.

She wakes up earlier than me for our date and has already set up a sumptuous breakfast.With caution I take the first sip after her because I don’t trust her.We don’t speak much and soon we’re on our way.I tell her we have to stop by the hospital first to say hi to James.She agrees and we walk into the room hand in hand like a happy couple.

It hits her when we get into the room that she’s been set up and she goes ballistic.They have to sedate her.I take that as my cue and walk away to my freedom.Its like a part of me was screaming for this.

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