When Cary and I married I had only heard of manic depression (bipolar disorder) in passing. I thought it must be a lot like taking my thyroid pill, you pop a pill and everything’s A-OK.
It happened slowly over a long time. First you get busy, you forget to take your medicine; then you’re trying to keep your business going so you don’t sleep as much as you should; then because you’re busy and you’re not sleeping, you’re not eating right and drinking too much caffeine.
Then you have the bills to worry about, payroll, keeping business coming in the door, then you have a wife who up and quits work, thinking she’s going to “help” get this business shaped up.
Now you have no income, except for what you pull in, a wife who is not working and depending on you for support, you have mounting debt to keep the business going, pretty soon you don’t have a pot to … plant petunias in.
In 1995, the house next door to us burned to the ground. We bought the lot for a song thinking we would re-build and “flip” the house and make a ton of money. It didn’t quite work out that way.
Then we sold both our house and the house next door barely making enough to pay off some debt, but not all. We downsized from 3,000 square feet to a 600 square foot condo.
Then I burned the motor up on my car, didn’t have money to buy a car, so we leased a vehicle so I would have transportation to the job I just started to help make ends meet.
On October 1, 1997, I arrived home from work. As soon as I walked in the door I knew something wasn’t right. Cary had re-arranged the furniture with sticky notes everywhere. Then he left in my Jeep, saying he would be back in a little while.
The call came later that night from Parkland Hospital. Cary said he had been in a wreck but everything was alright. I remember he spoke loud, quick and his speech was pressured.
The next day I learned the full extent of what happened on October 1, 1997, the night that changed so many lives.
Cary was in a definite manic episode; while speeding, he rear-ended a vehicle stopped at a red light, locking bumpers and flipping both vehicles in the air. The Jeep Cary was driving landed on its right side. As Cary was climbing out of the wreckage, the other Jeep he hit burst into flames trapping the driver in the front seat.
Cary ran to the other Jeep, reached in and pulled the man out of the burning wreckage, carrying him to a grassy sidewalk, staying by his side until paramedics arrived. The victim, a young man only 18, looked up at Cary and asked him to tell his wife and child he loved them. Cary said he would. We don’t know for sure, but that may have been the last words this young man spoke. The victim had 3rd degree burns over 75% of his body. Cary had 2nd and 3rd degree burns on his hands and arms.
Although the Jeep Cary hit was a total loss, the only item untouched in the blaze was the Bible in the front seat. Oblivious to pain and the danger of the fire, Cary showed no hesitancy in going into the flames and pulling the victim from the burning wreckage. To this day hand prints are etched into Cary’s forearms.
The next day we found out the victim passed away, leaving a 17 year old wife and an 8-month old baby boy.
The trauma of that night pushed Cary into an acute hypo manic state. After arriving at Parkland, he broke a nurse’s nose, ripped a toilet and sink out of the bathroom, was restrained by four men, and received multiple doses of tranquilizers before he could be sedated.
It wasn’t long before reporters and personal injury investigators were calling. We were sued in a personal injury lawsuit, criminal negligent homicide charges and assault charges were filed against Cary, civil action suit was filed against us personally, Cary was sent from Parkland and finally to Terrell State Hospital for 30 days. I had a business I had no hope of keeping afloat, no money, and debt mounting.
We filed bankruptcy, had three sets of lawyers for various legal actions working simultaneously, and I was now working my day job, an evening job, and looking for a weekend job.
To say I was angry was putting it mildly … it’s more like “hell hath no fury.” I was mad and bitter at everyone and everything … my circumstances, Cary, God. Why us, Lord? No scratch that … Why me, Lord? I saw myself in a small prison feeling like a trapped animal. I was not a pleasant person to be around.
Running away as hard and fast as I could sounded mighty appealing. But I didn’t … we had children, family, friends, people we didn’t know looking at us, watching our every move. It was not the path I wanted to choose, but the path I chose nonetheless … one of honoring the commitment made years before and becoming the “matriarch” our children needed.
Healing occurred gradually. It started with the trial, letters to the victim’s family, restitution, setting up a trust for the victim’s son, paying back debt we didn’t legally owe because of the bankruptcy, but was the right thing to do, working hard, starting over, prayer, Bible study, and surrounding ourselves with people who prayed and loved us.
I can’t say at what point the turnaround happened, but my “prison” turned to a “sanctuary” where I was meeting Jesus for the first time up close and personal. I no longer had all the traps of “possessions” distracting me.
I didn’t base my decision on my feelings. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about Cary. I didn’t like him … I wasn’t even sure if I still loved him … but I didn’t leave him. I acted on the decision, and the feelings eventually followed.
So many unexplained “God things” happened: the Bible that didn’t burn up; the hand prints on Cary’s forearms that should have long ago faded but are still readily visible; the attorney friend who suddenly appeared in Bankruptcy court, shortening our court appearance; the man who showed up out of nowhere after Cary prayed for someone to “buy our little business”; the job that suddenly became available when Cary needed a job; the GAP insurance I didn’t know we had on our leased Jeep that paid off that debt; the job opportunities that came my way that provided the income to get by; all the miracles of what happens when you start following God’s precepts.
Cary and I both, to this day, thank God for the wake up call in 1997, not for the tragic loss of a young man’s life, but for the cleansing and renewal we both experienced which continues to this day.
It took about two years before Cary and I started seeing some “light”. Little by little, day by day, we grow stronger, deeper in our walk, and both believe sharing our testimony is a key component in our growth.
Tagged: mental health, prayer, prison ministry
