I was talking with a friend of ours who has known H longer than I have. I surprised myself when I told her about the gifts that I am receiving as a result of H's illness and my time caring for him. I've certainly shared my grousing in this blog and so it makes sense that I'd share my gifts and gratitude as well.
Let's start with compassion. Before I met H (and even for awhile afterwards), I wasn't the most compassionate man. I wasn't mean or selfish, per se, but I was definitely not patient and compassionate when considering others' experience. Now, while I do get impatient with my situation with H, I find myself being way more sympathetic and patient with H and other people overall. Not just the disadvantaged or ill, but with everyone. In many ways, this experience has taught me to love in a way that I didn't expect: unconditionally.
Respect for mortality. Before H got sick I hadn't had much experience with people that I love getting ill, but in the past 10 years or so, I have seen what it means to be in poor health. As a result, I convinced myself to stop smoking some years ago. And most importantly, I feel deep gratitude for my good health pretty much every day and I try to do the right thing. And I realize just how precious good health is.
Slowing down. In my work, we are racing constantly…racing with the market, with other groups in the company, with our peers; fast paced doesn't cover it. But when you need to patiently explain the same thing over and over again, it helps to have patience…to gear yourself to the other's pace. While I can't claim that I've nailed this one yet, it does me no good to be impatient with H and I'm finding that it just makes life more stressful to be impatient all of the time.
Forgiveness. Can't say that I've got this one nailed down either. But I can say that I at least understand how important it is: not forgiving others just gets in the way of me loving them. And not forgiving myself just keeps me stuck in regret and pain.
Would I want to repeat this experience? No! Please, no!
But what is it worth to learn how to love unconditionally, to respect our health and bodies, to slow down, to forgive, and to be grateful?
Showing posts with label forgiveness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label forgiveness. Show all posts
Monday, September 22, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
You are not the center of me
As I've written before , I've struggled with how H's health issues (and the impact to me) have become at times the center of my life. It's all about H and his health and his issues and what he needs and that he's leaving me bit by bit.
And I have fought this centralization (sic), knowing that I can't allow myself to be swallowed up, but usually I got lost in the maelstrom of it. Of course, how could it not impact me?
What I haven't been able to do is to just accept: I am caring for a sick loved one and this is what it is. He isn't any more than he is, which is less than I need. He can't be. He won't ever be again.
And also accept: I don't have the heart to send him away…I couldn't do it when he was so direly ill, so I just have to release that possibility as long as he is weller (sic).
And, most importantly, if I accept it for what it is and don't fight it and rail against it, then maybe I can focus on what I need (which is a lot, admittedly). If I can just get to the point of acceptance that he is what he is and that won't change and that he will continue to be home for now, then (my hope is that) I can be more rational about how I approach my life and what I need.
They say acceptance is the final stage of grief…my hope is that I'm nearing the end of (at least) this part of the road.
And I have fought this centralization (sic), knowing that I can't allow myself to be swallowed up, but usually I got lost in the maelstrom of it. Of course, how could it not impact me?
What I haven't been able to do is to just accept: I am caring for a sick loved one and this is what it is. He isn't any more than he is, which is less than I need. He can't be. He won't ever be again.
And also accept: I don't have the heart to send him away…I couldn't do it when he was so direly ill, so I just have to release that possibility as long as he is weller (sic).
And, most importantly, if I accept it for what it is and don't fight it and rail against it, then maybe I can focus on what I need (which is a lot, admittedly). If I can just get to the point of acceptance that he is what he is and that won't change and that he will continue to be home for now, then (my hope is that) I can be more rational about how I approach my life and what I need.
They say acceptance is the final stage of grief…my hope is that I'm nearing the end of (at least) this part of the road.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Hey, come take a look at this
A good friend of ours, M, came over for a visit and dinner tonight. She has known H and me since the early 80's. It was so wonderful to spend an evening with her.
H felt too ill to be up for very long and went to take a nap for a few hours.
M and I talked about where H is and what has been going on for the past few months. I assumed that H had told her what was going on, but she had no idea what was happening with the whole placement issue, his family's reaction, and my break from work. She did say that H had told her that he hadn't been feeling all that well recently (not news).
I really needed her support after being kicked (while down) by H's family, and, since I've known her for a long time, I trust her judgment. She and H had spent a fair amount of time together recently and she had stories about some odd behavior and some even odder delusions. She expressed a lot of concern about H's decline the past year or so. Yup, I see it too. I'm worried and sad too.
I was talking with her about H's family reactions to placement and all that, about how they think he is fine and able to live on his own. I was relieved to hear her say, "But he is dying, they just don't see it. It's just taking awhile and they don't see him reguarly and he tells them that he is OK, but we know he's not."
Yes. Thank you so much for your honesty and especially your courage, my friend.
I talked with her about my struggles to handle this with love for H and gather his family around him. But instead I get denial and guilt. So, I told her that instead of me worrying about his family anymore, I'm just going to focus on me and doing the right thing for H. They will either come around or not.
She had a great idea: since his family is unaware of how he really is doing all of the time, I should send out a weekly or so email that briefly outlines how he is doing. How much he's been sleeping, how he's functioning, and when necessary, lab results, any special events that happen.
I'm going to try this, but I have to hard sell this to myself as just trying to improve communication with his family…even tho' I'm still steamed at them. M's take is that after a few months of this email newsletter, their denial may begin to crack. Who knows.
I've written about forgiveness being essential…and here is a lesson for me too. I need to forgive them for their anger, guilt, and fear (I have these too) and help them see what is happening with H. And to get them to the table to talk about where H really is and how to be there for him as he makes this transition, whenever that happens.
H felt too ill to be up for very long and went to take a nap for a few hours.
M and I talked about where H is and what has been going on for the past few months. I assumed that H had told her what was going on, but she had no idea what was happening with the whole placement issue, his family's reaction, and my break from work. She did say that H had told her that he hadn't been feeling all that well recently (not news).
I really needed her support after being kicked (while down) by H's family, and, since I've known her for a long time, I trust her judgment. She and H had spent a fair amount of time together recently and she had stories about some odd behavior and some even odder delusions. She expressed a lot of concern about H's decline the past year or so. Yup, I see it too. I'm worried and sad too.
I was talking with her about H's family reactions to placement and all that, about how they think he is fine and able to live on his own. I was relieved to hear her say, "But he is dying, they just don't see it. It's just taking awhile and they don't see him reguarly and he tells them that he is OK, but we know he's not."
Yes. Thank you so much for your honesty and especially your courage, my friend.
I talked with her about my struggles to handle this with love for H and gather his family around him. But instead I get denial and guilt. So, I told her that instead of me worrying about his family anymore, I'm just going to focus on me and doing the right thing for H. They will either come around or not.
She had a great idea: since his family is unaware of how he really is doing all of the time, I should send out a weekly or so email that briefly outlines how he is doing. How much he's been sleeping, how he's functioning, and when necessary, lab results, any special events that happen.
I'm going to try this, but I have to hard sell this to myself as just trying to improve communication with his family…even tho' I'm still steamed at them. M's take is that after a few months of this email newsletter, their denial may begin to crack. Who knows.
I've written about forgiveness being essential…and here is a lesson for me too. I need to forgive them for their anger, guilt, and fear (I have these too) and help them see what is happening with H. And to get them to the table to talk about where H really is and how to be there for him as he makes this transition, whenever that happens.
Friday, November 09, 2007
Enjoy the silence
H has been gone for over a week now, although he calls me at least once a day. I've been off work for over a week too now. I love being a hermit.
It's very strange to have this house to myself…this house that I've shared with H for so many years. I like the silence and the lack of responsibility. I like being able to sleep so long in the king size bed without having to share the covers or wear ear plugs so I don't hear his C-pap machine.
I've been disoriented by the lack of structure recently. I don’t have to be anywhere, I don't have to talk to anyone. There is nothing that really has to be done. If I were somewhere else, I'd call this a vacation.
I've talked with H just a few times since he's been gone, even tho' he's called several times a day (I am so thankful to whoever invented Caller ID ). He hasn't asked me any questions about how I'm doing or how I'm feeling, just what I'm doing.
"Where were you yesterday?," he asked me. "I called many times." "I must have been in the garden, outside," I say, knowing that he didn't call me yesterday.
H tells me that he's bored, "They all have to work. I miss all the things that I get to do at home."
I don't care that he misses home, but I don't tell him so.
There is odd silence in my head as well. I don't hear so much of my anger, my resentment driven by the things that H has said when I've told him that I can't deal anymore:
At least I'm not in the hospital right now.
You've always been depressed and stressed and angry.
I'm not that sick…you're just trying to get rid of me.
I don't blame him for his anger, but I'm tired of having my experience so discounted. The sad truth is that this is not H, not the man that I have known for so long, but the dementia talking through his own fear and denial.
This time apart and this time off of work is to help me catch my breath for the next run up the hill. I hope that this will be the last run I make up this hill.
It's very strange to have this house to myself…this house that I've shared with H for so many years. I like the silence and the lack of responsibility. I like being able to sleep so long in the king size bed without having to share the covers or wear ear plugs so I don't hear his C-pap machine.
I've been disoriented by the lack of structure recently. I don’t have to be anywhere, I don't have to talk to anyone. There is nothing that really has to be done. If I were somewhere else, I'd call this a vacation.
I've talked with H just a few times since he's been gone, even tho' he's called several times a day (I am so thankful to whoever invented Caller ID ). He hasn't asked me any questions about how I'm doing or how I'm feeling, just what I'm doing.
"Where were you yesterday?," he asked me. "I called many times." "I must have been in the garden, outside," I say, knowing that he didn't call me yesterday.
H tells me that he's bored, "They all have to work. I miss all the things that I get to do at home."
I don't care that he misses home, but I don't tell him so.
There is odd silence in my head as well. I don't hear so much of my anger, my resentment driven by the things that H has said when I've told him that I can't deal anymore:
At least I'm not in the hospital right now.
You've always been depressed and stressed and angry.
I'm not that sick…you're just trying to get rid of me.
I don't blame him for his anger, but I'm tired of having my experience so discounted. The sad truth is that this is not H, not the man that I have known for so long, but the dementia talking through his own fear and denial.
This time apart and this time off of work is to help me catch my breath for the next run up the hill. I hope that this will be the last run I make up this hill.
Friday, September 21, 2007
An upcoming anniversary
A few days ago, H said to me, "Our 25th anniversary is coming up early next year…how do you want to celebrate?"
"I don't know honey," I said.
After our conversation about our last anniversary, I really don't feel like celebrating anything.
"I don't know honey," I said.
After our conversation about our last anniversary, I really don't feel like celebrating anything.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
When I thought of leaving you
Yesterday, each of us were sitting at our respective computers...backs to one another (small room). Quiet late afternoon in our office, two computer fans going.
H asks me, "Do you remember T?"
"Yes."
"Do you realize that I almost left you for him?"
I say, "Uhhhh. No...well, yes. How many years ago was that?"
Silence.
"It's been more than 15 years now. Why would you bring it up now?" I ask.
Silence.
I continued, "Do you want to hear about all the times I thought about it, almost left you?"
Silence.
As though him leaving me would have been bad or vice versa.
It doesn't matter what we almost did, only what we actually did, which was to continue loving one another. But I know that we both have our regrets.
I still (Lord willing) will have some time on this Earth to address my regrets; he isn't certain (and neither am I) that he will have the chance.
H asks me, "Do you remember T
"Yes."
"Do you realize that I almost left you for him?"
I say, "Uhhhh. No...well, yes. How many years ago was that?"
Silence.
"It's been more than 15 years now. Why would you bring it up now?" I ask.
Silence.
I continued, "Do you want to hear about all the times I thought about it, almost left you?"
Silence.
As though him leaving me would have been bad or vice versa.
It doesn't matter what we almost did, only what we actually did, which was to continue loving one another. But I know that we both have our regrets.
I still (Lord willing) will have some time on this Earth to address my regrets; he isn't certain (and neither am I) that he will have the chance.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Straight man from heaven
Loving a straight man, we've all done it. I did for many years before I came out and then I just focused on loving gay men. :)
For the past three years, I've been going to a massage therapist for injury treatment work due to a car wreck back then. The massage is the kind that sometimes leaves bruises and hurts more than you can imagine; but it helps more than I ever thought it would to keep this ole body working and working out.
Over time, we've established an intimate bond.
Physically, from the massage, but not from sex.
Emotionally from sharing our stories of his recent divorce & custody issues, my caregiving H, his spiritual path, and our world views. Oh, and we talk and joke about love & sex from a man's perspective. And we laugh and laugh while he works on me. Sometimes cry too.
He has been a gift to me. He introduced me to A Course in Miracles, and only because of that can I even think about forgiveness and love, let alone feel peace sometimes, rather than be mired in anger, fear, pain, and resentment.
It is amazing that the voice spoke through a straight man who causes me so much pain and also helps me so much!
For the past three years, I've been going to a massage therapist for injury treatment work due to a car wreck back then. The massage is the kind that sometimes leaves bruises and hurts more than you can imagine; but it helps more than I ever thought it would to keep this ole body working and working out.
Over time, we've established an intimate bond.
Physically, from the massage, but not from sex.
Emotionally from sharing our stories of his recent divorce & custody issues, my caregiving H, his spiritual path, and our world views. Oh, and we talk and joke about love & sex from a man's perspective. And we laugh and laugh while he works on me. Sometimes cry too.
He has been a gift to me. He introduced me to A Course in Miracles, and only because of that can I even think about forgiveness and love, let alone feel peace sometimes, rather than be mired in anger, fear, pain, and resentment.
It is amazing that the voice spoke through a straight man who causes me so much pain and also helps me so much!
Monday, August 13, 2007
When he bitches me out
Projects around our house don't get done anymore. We had a major remodel about 3 years ago, but then H went into the hospital, had 6 or less months to live, and I lost all interest in doing anything around here. Except for the garden and the plants in the sunroom…my garden is my sanctuary.
H has been after me, quite vigorously, about "getting stuff around here done." After 3 or 4 conversations about the project (where I try to put it in the context of all that is going on, aka not a priority for moi), he starts it. Painting is what he loves. So he's started 2 painting projects recently. There is still blue tape on 3 walls and two windows and a wall is 2/3 rds a brand new, dark color, which I LOVE.
I am so not into working on our house…right now...when he is dying or at least very, very sick. I would love to do a project with him, but he can't stay out of bed for more than a few hours right now. How I miss our time together, getting stuff done around here.
I don't tell him all the reasons why I'm not into working on the house: time, energy, a problematic back, or, the real reason: how much I miss him that he is not there to do these things with. To accomplish a project, have some fun, and then have wild monkey sex. Oh, throw in some scotch and a bacon cheeseburger with fries and … well, our times together, working on our life together. Good times that I miss.
It is hard when he bitches me out for projects not getting done, like the painting. He's right: it desperately needs to get done. But it isn't about the house anymore. His distress is all about that HE can't do the projects anymore. It isn't about me. I can't possibly understand his anger at what is happening.
And I want to tell him why I don't have the heart or the motivation to have the work done. He can't even supervise a crew anymore…him, a master of conducting. And I won't point that out to him when he is worked up and angry at the world…if ever.
So, when he bitches me out, all I can do is agree that it needs to be done and tell him that I love him.
H has been after me, quite vigorously, about "getting stuff around here done." After 3 or 4 conversations about the project (where I try to put it in the context of all that is going on, aka not a priority for moi), he starts it. Painting is what he loves. So he's started 2 painting projects recently. There is still blue tape on 3 walls and two windows and a wall is 2/3 rds a brand new, dark color, which I LOVE.
I am so not into working on our house…right now...when he is dying or at least very, very sick. I would love to do a project with him, but he can't stay out of bed for more than a few hours right now. How I miss our time together, getting stuff done around here.
I don't tell him all the reasons why I'm not into working on the house: time, energy, a problematic back, or, the real reason: how much I miss him that he is not there to do these things with. To accomplish a project, have some fun, and then have wild monkey sex. Oh, throw in some scotch and a bacon cheeseburger with fries and … well, our times together, working on our life together. Good times that I miss.
It is hard when he bitches me out for projects not getting done, like the painting. He's right: it desperately needs to get done. But it isn't about the house anymore. His distress is all about that HE can't do the projects anymore. It isn't about me. I can't possibly understand his anger at what is happening.
And I want to tell him why I don't have the heart or the motivation to have the work done. He can't even supervise a crew anymore…him, a master of conducting. And I won't point that out to him when he is worked up and angry at the world…if ever.
So, when he bitches me out, all I can do is agree that it needs to be done and tell him that I love him.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
An exercise in reduction
Many days, H struggles to follow a TV show or a daily conversation. He will ask about the same thing over and over again with escalating anxiety about the topic. He offers only the same 4 or 5 topics for conversation and he stares into space for 10 minutes at a time. Most days, he sleeps most of the time.
Fewer and fewer days now, he can be articulate, funny, and charming...just a glipse.
I miss him, "like the deserts miss the rain." I so want for him to be there more than he is, but he is declining and there is less and less of him left.
While some deaths are sudden, I'm watching the process of H's life leaving him and him leaving us. I've written prior about our life together shrinking and he is falling behind more and more as I move forward just living my (rather dull) life.
For his sake and mine a big part of me will stay behind with him just to be with him, just to love him. He will be better for it.
And when I don't need anything from him anymore, I can just be with him. I will be able to forgive him for whatever it was whenever it happened or didn't and just love him unconditionally.
As he slips away and our life together recedes, all that is left is the love between us. And the way to the depth of that love is through forgiveness.
Fewer and fewer days now, he can be articulate, funny, and charming...just a glipse.
I miss him, "like the deserts miss the rain." I so want for him to be there more than he is, but he is declining and there is less and less of him left.
While some deaths are sudden, I'm watching the process of H's life leaving him and him leaving us. I've written prior about our life together shrinking and he is falling behind more and more as I move forward just living my (rather dull) life.
For his sake and mine a big part of me will stay behind with him just to be with him, just to love him. He will be better for it.
And when I don't need anything from him anymore, I can just be with him. I will be able to forgive him for whatever it was whenever it happened or didn't and just love him unconditionally.
As he slips away and our life together recedes, all that is left is the love between us. And the way to the depth of that love is through forgiveness.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
DABA doo doo
Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Acceptance
D: He's not that sick and I can deal with all this indefinitely.
A: I'm really pissed at him and life in general about this. It's the disease, not the man, I know, but still.
B: He'll recover enough to have a life together...I mean, I know that he's declining, but his T cells are so high. or...I can compensate for not having a healthy partner, somehow.
A: I shouldn't expect him to be anything that what he is today, which is less than I have had from him (ever), and is way less than I need and deserve.
D: He's not that sick and I can deal with all this indefinitely.
A: I'm really pissed at him and life in general about this. It's the disease, not the man, I know, but still.
B: He'll recover enough to have a life together...I mean, I know that he's declining, but his T cells are so high. or...I can compensate for not having a healthy partner, somehow.
A: I shouldn't expect him to be anything that what he is today, which is less than I have had from him (ever), and is way less than I need and deserve.
Longings unfulfilled
Neither H nor I get our partner needs (insert long list here) met at home, or at all, for that matter.
I've whined here about how he isn't a partner for me anymore, really, and I'm finally getting better at cutting through all the denial I have about this. And the denial that somehow it will all be better…that he will get well enough…oh, that's bargaining, isn't it. But that isn't going to happen.
My longing makes me want to get away from him to fill my needs because I know that he can't -- ever again. Once "free," I can then focus on getting what I need: (insert long list here).
His longing makes him be after me to fulfill his needs. I am often in the position of rejecting him over and over again as 1) he doesn't remember what we talked about and 2) he's just relentless in feeling that he can "fix" either our relationship or me or both.
I can appreciate his hope (mine has been gone for awhile now) and I don't want to unnecessarily hurt him.
So, here we are, both longing for what we need and neither one of us able to give or get that anymore.
I've whined here about how he isn't a partner for me anymore, really, and I'm finally getting better at cutting through all the denial I have about this. And the denial that somehow it will all be better…that he will get well enough…oh, that's bargaining, isn't it. But that isn't going to happen.
My longing makes me want to get away from him to fill my needs because I know that he can't -- ever again. Once "free," I can then focus on getting what I need: (insert long list here).
His longing makes him be after me to fulfill his needs. I am often in the position of rejecting him over and over again as 1) he doesn't remember what we talked about and 2) he's just relentless in feeling that he can "fix" either our relationship or me or both.
I can appreciate his hope (mine has been gone for awhile now) and I don't want to unnecessarily hurt him.
So, here we are, both longing for what we need and neither one of us able to give or get that anymore.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Back at the keyboard
So sorry for the length between posts recently, but a combo of visitors from out of town staying with us, vacation, and the inevitable dramas at work and at home have kept me crazy busy.
We had two friends stay with us, S & P (sic), for a little over a week, visiting from an unnamed red state. They are both sweethearts and we had a great time with them. It was great to have adults around the house to talk with.
I won't bore y'all with a recount of our activities, but I think the striking pieces about H during this time were twofold:
H was giving me grief about my drinking while we had guests in house. Now, I've been known to put back a few or even more than a few, but I was really pretty much of a lightweight when our guests were here (well, except for the fine scotch and tequila). After a bit of H's comments, asked him, "what's up with this?" After a bit of hemming and hawing, he confessed that he was jealous because he can't drink anymore due to his meds. Of course, I tried to be kind about this, and I told him that I was sorry he can't do that anymore and that it must be very frustrating, especially with scotch, which was our favorite drink for years.
We all went to the "gay area" in our town for a bit of shopping, mens watching, and sunshine…and trying to convince one of the guys, P, that he really needed a PA (we all would pay for it, after all)…no dice though. Anyway, H was really struggling to keep up with us walking. Not just huffing and puffing, but moving so very slowly, like one of those old men that shuffles down the street. At one point, we all realized that he was having trouble, so one of us stayed with him while the other two went off down the street.
The contrast of H, shuffling slowly down the street with a cane that didn't seem to help him, and everyone else on the street was frightening. Sometimes I just forget how ill he is and the comparison to other healthy people shocks me back into reality. Now, if I can just keep from getting angry when that reality intrudes on my little fantasy. I was wanting a day off of fun with our friends and then caregiving rears its ugly head again.
We had two friends stay with us, S & P (sic), for a little over a week, visiting from an unnamed red state. They are both sweethearts and we had a great time with them. It was great to have adults around the house to talk with.
I won't bore y'all with a recount of our activities, but I think the striking pieces about H during this time were twofold:
H was giving me grief about my drinking while we had guests in house. Now, I've been known to put back a few or even more than a few, but I was really pretty much of a lightweight when our guests were here (well, except for the fine scotch and tequila). After a bit of H's comments, asked him, "what's up with this?" After a bit of hemming and hawing, he confessed that he was jealous because he can't drink anymore due to his meds. Of course, I tried to be kind about this, and I told him that I was sorry he can't do that anymore and that it must be very frustrating, especially with scotch, which was our favorite drink for years.
We all went to the "gay area" in our town for a bit of shopping, mens watching, and sunshine…and trying to convince one of the guys, P, that he really needed a PA (we all would pay for it, after all)…no dice though. Anyway, H was really struggling to keep up with us walking. Not just huffing and puffing, but moving so very slowly, like one of those old men that shuffles down the street. At one point, we all realized that he was having trouble, so one of us stayed with him while the other two went off down the street.
The contrast of H, shuffling slowly down the street with a cane that didn't seem to help him, and everyone else on the street was frightening. Sometimes I just forget how ill he is and the comparison to other healthy people shocks me back into reality. Now, if I can just keep from getting angry when that reality intrudes on my little fantasy. I was wanting a day off of fun with our friends and then caregiving rears its ugly head again.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Gaming & shrinking
Our life together has shrunk.
From a wide range of activities, friends, intellectual & prurient interests, hobbies, house projects, each having varyingly successful careers at different times, relocations to exotic places, our family of pets.
To what we are having for dinner, how he's feeling, how my job search is going, and most recently some rather distressing games on H's part.
I thank Jeff (comment in last entry) for pointing out that it's just anger escaping his body. I forget that from time to time. H is angry and he is also feeling guilty. If I were in his shoes, I would be as well.
While I understand, hearing things like "I sleep all weekend because you don't want to be around me," "you're embarassed to go out in public with me" and so on is really hard. There's this whole guilt tripping thing going on and outbursts of anger. Putting words in my mouth that basically position him as the victim and me as the guilty party in his victimhood.
A friend of mine refers to this as the "tyranny of the ill."
H has always wanted to be morally superior in all manners: "I'm a good boy, I know what is right, I do what is right (so that I won't get in trouble)." A family of origin issue for him.
And so that continues today. But in the past, there was so much more of our life together the moral superiority thing was small enough in comparison that it wasn't so bothersome.
And, the anniversary incident pushed me very far away and I am disengaging more and more emotionally. I don't think that was H's intent, but it is the result.
The end result is that there is little left for us but the gaming, the setting of the hook to see if I'll bite.
I am not engaging in the guilt tripping. I refuse to. I just smile and don't comment. What else is there to do? If I engage and take the bait, then it opens the door to more manipulation.
My belief is that me taking the bait less and less will result in him becoming less and less happy being at home.
My desparate hope is that it makes it more likely that H will willingly go to the facility. Although I have power of attorney and could "force" him there, I would prefer not to.
It is so very sad to see it shrink like it is. But it is what it is and I am doing the best I can to forgive myself, to forgive H, and to forgive all of our situation and past so that I can focus on loving him. I desperately wish that he would focus on forgiveness as well, but I don't see how that will happen with him at home.
From a wide range of activities, friends, intellectual & prurient interests, hobbies, house projects, each having varyingly successful careers at different times, relocations to exotic places, our family of pets.
To what we are having for dinner, how he's feeling, how my job search is going, and most recently some rather distressing games on H's part.
I thank Jeff (comment in last entry) for pointing out that it's just anger escaping his body. I forget that from time to time. H is angry and he is also feeling guilty. If I were in his shoes, I would be as well.
While I understand, hearing things like "I sleep all weekend because you don't want to be around me," "you're embarassed to go out in public with me" and so on is really hard. There's this whole guilt tripping thing going on and outbursts of anger. Putting words in my mouth that basically position him as the victim and me as the guilty party in his victimhood.
A friend of mine refers to this as the "tyranny of the ill."
H has always wanted to be morally superior in all manners: "I'm a good boy, I know what is right, I do what is right (so that I won't get in trouble)." A family of origin issue for him.
And so that continues today. But in the past, there was so much more of our life together the moral superiority thing was small enough in comparison that it wasn't so bothersome.
And, the anniversary incident pushed me very far away and I am disengaging more and more emotionally. I don't think that was H's intent, but it is the result.
The end result is that there is little left for us but the gaming, the setting of the hook to see if I'll bite.
I am not engaging in the guilt tripping. I refuse to. I just smile and don't comment. What else is there to do? If I engage and take the bait, then it opens the door to more manipulation.
My belief is that me taking the bait less and less will result in him becoming less and less happy being at home.
My desparate hope is that it makes it more likely that H will willingly go to the facility. Although I have power of attorney and could "force" him there, I would prefer not to.
It is so very sad to see it shrink like it is. But it is what it is and I am doing the best I can to forgive myself, to forgive H, and to forgive all of our situation and past so that I can focus on loving him. I desperately wish that he would focus on forgiveness as well, but I don't see how that will happen with him at home.
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