During dinner last night, I was chatting with H and he was after me for my "flat, sarcastic delivery" about how much Christmas costs every year and how I'm trying to manage that down for this year.
I said that I didn't mean to be sarcastic, but I'm just tired and burned out.
He looks at me intently and says, "Well, we should just get a divorce." And he goes on from there about an attorney, selling the house, whatever....blah, blah, blah.
I said in a flat, tho', not sarcastic voice, "Well, if that's what you want." Truth be told, at least this would be one way out of this mess.
He flies into another tirade about something related to whatever, whereby I get up from the dining room table and walk away.
What's striking to me is that this is the same M.O. that his family has: whenever I raise my experience and my struggles with caring for H, I get the consistent comment, (sigh) "Well, I guess that means divorce then."
While I understand that no one in the family will take H, what I don't understand is how little empathy there is for my struggles caring for him.
Why is it that saying something is hard for me causes these folks to jump to divorce?
Perhaps this is all just their guilt, but I think that the motives are much more pedestrian: money. They all know that I support H and without me, who will or can? If it's labelled divorce, then maybe he or they get a settlement?
Later in the evening, H is all mopey and affectionate. After a bit of TV, I go off to bed in the guest room.
At this point, I have to confess that I don't care much anymore, really.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Friday, November 28, 2008
Bleak house, redux
How silly of me to think that things would be different, just because H is visiting his family for a few weeks.
While he's not been ill while travelling, somehow I thought that all would be happiness while he is gone, a chance for me to refresh and regroup and, mostly, to enjoy myself.
I don't have the seething anger and resentment with him gone, I don't have to listen him fret, I don't have to do anything for him, and I no longer hear the screaming in my head, "I am so done with this. You need to go away."
And right now, I do notice great relief from not carrying that load. I am grateful for the break.
But being here at home alone show me how wacked out I am with H just drowns out everything else in my life. And while I don't want to pin it all on H, I believe that my life would be very different if he hadn't gotten ill or if he had just simply died some years ago.
Truth be told, I've just felt empty, barren, since he left…no desire to do much of anything except drink, watch those compelling videos, and go to the gym. It's not depression; it's not a mood, it's an empty bucket.
With him gone, the issues I have with my life sting more and I oddly feel both urgency and resignation.
Whether he is here or not, I'm lonely, I drink too much, I'm tired of being celibate, I'm going to be 50 in a few months, and I'm just tired. Some is existential anxiety, but much is just asingleman's life needing some attention.
"Like the deserts miss the rain…"
While he's not been ill while travelling, somehow I thought that all would be happiness while he is gone, a chance for me to refresh and regroup and, mostly, to enjoy myself.
I don't have the seething anger and resentment with him gone, I don't have to listen him fret, I don't have to do anything for him, and I no longer hear the screaming in my head, "I am so done with this. You need to go away."
And right now, I do notice great relief from not carrying that load. I am grateful for the break.
But being here at home alone show me how wacked out I am with H just drowns out everything else in my life. And while I don't want to pin it all on H, I believe that my life would be very different if he hadn't gotten ill or if he had just simply died some years ago.
Truth be told, I've just felt empty, barren, since he left…no desire to do much of anything except drink, watch those compelling videos, and go to the gym. It's not depression; it's not a mood, it's an empty bucket.
With him gone, the issues I have with my life sting more and I oddly feel both urgency and resignation.
Whether he is here or not, I'm lonely, I drink too much, I'm tired of being celibate, I'm going to be 50 in a few months, and I'm just tired. Some is existential anxiety, but much is just asingleman's life needing some attention.
"Like the deserts miss the rain…"
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Quiet house, quiet mind
It's been a long time since the house was this quiet and even longer since I've felt any sort of quiet in my head. H has been gone only a few days now, but the relief I feel is palpable.
When I returned from Europe last week, I experienced the opposite. As soon as the cab pulled up in our driveway, my back, neck, even my legs began their characteristic chronic aching. While I was gone I had a bit of soreness from walking so much, but nothing as systemic as what I experienced upon my return.
Once I saw H disappear down the jetway, those aches and pains mostly left me again.
While I always knew that my responsibilities for H weighed on me, I've never been aware enough to feel that weight come and go so suddenly. Such is the cost of caring for someone you love who is slipping into dementia and slowly leaving this planet before your very eyes.
Now, with H out of the house and a long horizon until his return, I can exhale and my body is actually relaxing. My deep tissue massage actually is deep now.
Aside from the obvious benefit of not having to provide care for H while he is gone, what is striking is the just how quiet the house is and how quiet I feel, along with the belated realization that my life is, in fact, all about me and what I need. The clarity is startling...my gentle readers know that this is obvious, but I have clearly lost much perspective in all of this.
And while I can make a consicous effort to sacrifice my time and energy to care for someone I love, I am enjoying this peace far too much to want him to return...ever.
When I returned from Europe last week, I experienced the opposite. As soon as the cab pulled up in our driveway, my back, neck, even my legs began their characteristic chronic aching. While I was gone I had a bit of soreness from walking so much, but nothing as systemic as what I experienced upon my return.
Once I saw H disappear down the jetway, those aches and pains mostly left me again.
While I always knew that my responsibilities for H weighed on me, I've never been aware enough to feel that weight come and go so suddenly. Such is the cost of caring for someone you love who is slipping into dementia and slowly leaving this planet before your very eyes.
Now, with H out of the house and a long horizon until his return, I can exhale and my body is actually relaxing. My deep tissue massage actually is deep now.
Aside from the obvious benefit of not having to provide care for H while he is gone, what is striking is the just how quiet the house is and how quiet I feel, along with the belated realization that my life is, in fact, all about me and what I need. The clarity is startling...my gentle readers know that this is obvious, but I have clearly lost much perspective in all of this.
And while I can make a consicous effort to sacrifice my time and energy to care for someone I love, I am enjoying this peace far too much to want him to return...ever.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Bleak house
Coming back from a week out of the country was as expected, maybe a little worse.
H had a "bad week," he said. He has some minor episodes of seizures, which has happened before, but he didn't go to the doctor or call his sister, who lives nearby. He didn't want to call as it "would have meant a trip to the hospital."
He said he was depressed and slept most of the time; lonely too, he said. Hardly ate because he "just gets confused cooking" and didn't go out to eat very much. Happily he had a few friends come visit.
While I hear the voice screaming in my head, "I'm done with this," it doesn't mean that I can't feel sympathy for this sad, sick man. And I do. And so, I can't or won't scream at him.
H leaves tomorrow for two weeks out of town and I'm glad. I shall be able to have some peace and quiet and relief from the funhouse that is our home now.
H had a "bad week," he said. He has some minor episodes of seizures, which has happened before, but he didn't go to the doctor or call his sister, who lives nearby. He didn't want to call as it "would have meant a trip to the hospital."
He said he was depressed and slept most of the time; lonely too, he said. Hardly ate because he "just gets confused cooking" and didn't go out to eat very much. Happily he had a few friends come visit.
While I hear the voice screaming in my head, "I'm done with this," it doesn't mean that I can't feel sympathy for this sad, sick man. And I do. And so, I can't or won't scream at him.
H leaves tomorrow for two weeks out of town and I'm glad. I shall be able to have some peace and quiet and relief from the funhouse that is our home now.
Thursday, November 06, 2008
Looking back
Now a week out of the country on work travel with my extended team. In addition to the wonders of a more tolerant society who believe "live and let live," I've really enjoyed the break from the tedium of living with H and just how helpless and hopeless he is.
My team is astoundingly smart, funny, and passionate. Sometimes I don't feel that I belong, but that is my issue as I have clearly already been accepted.
Many nights out with all of them and obvious things to say: they are not only looking for an adventure…to expand their experience…but they are also able and willing to go after it. There is a keen desire for adventure and the ability to go after it. To have fun without the "my feet hurt," "I feel sick," "I need to lie down," or "I need you to make dinner for me."
So, we are in a strange city and go clubbing…men and women, straight and gay. It is just about having fun together without accommodation. Up steep narrow, twisting stairs, dancing on a crowded floor, walking a mile back to the hotel on rough cobblestone streets at 3am.
Maybe that is what I struggle with: the notion that he needs so much accommodation and I need a peer…someone who can keep up with me. Not that I'm running marathons, but still….
"There is a fine line between being noble and being a martyr." From the Alzheimer's' Moments blog.
So, you think that you're being noble…but is expressing your grief and whining being a martyr?
And for those who haven't experienced this slow, long painful goodbye...is missing what you once had and talking about it being a martyr?
My team is astoundingly smart, funny, and passionate. Sometimes I don't feel that I belong, but that is my issue as I have clearly already been accepted.
Many nights out with all of them and obvious things to say: they are not only looking for an adventure…to expand their experience…but they are also able and willing to go after it. There is a keen desire for adventure and the ability to go after it. To have fun without the "my feet hurt," "I feel sick," "I need to lie down," or "I need you to make dinner for me."
So, we are in a strange city and go clubbing…men and women, straight and gay. It is just about having fun together without accommodation. Up steep narrow, twisting stairs, dancing on a crowded floor, walking a mile back to the hotel on rough cobblestone streets at 3am.
Maybe that is what I struggle with: the notion that he needs so much accommodation and I need a peer…someone who can keep up with me. Not that I'm running marathons, but still….
"There is a fine line between being noble and being a martyr." From the Alzheimer's' Moments blog.
So, you think that you're being noble…but is expressing your grief and whining being a martyr?
And for those who haven't experienced this slow, long painful goodbye...is missing what you once had and talking about it being a martyr?
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
I want you to be there for me
While there is ample evidence that he's simply not capable of meeting my needs, I still want him to be there for me as I struggle through his waning days. But he simply can't be there in the way that I need, but that doesn't stop me from wanting it.
Oh sure, I can intellectually understand how he's not capable anymore, that H is my patient, my job, if you will…and not my partner anymore. But my heart still yearns for him to be what he once was and to be there for me as he once was, plain and simple. How could I not?
And if we were living apart, say with H in a facility, the physical distance would be the evidence I need to really get that he is no longer there for me, literally and figuratively.
H and I continuing to live together has slowed down my grieving and transition in many ways...there is no marker like moving away or death, just a long grind down to the inevitable.
A vignette from last night (this has happened many times in the past month or two):
So last night, I'm sitting on the couch watching TV with H, holding his hand. Suddenly, his hand gets very sweaty, then very cold, and he's stopped breathing. I touch his shoulder, once, twice...nothing...Oh God is this it?...then a firm push and say his name. He comes to and says, "Oh, I must have fallen asleep."
Oh sure, I can intellectually understand how he's not capable anymore, that H is my patient, my job, if you will…and not my partner anymore. But my heart still yearns for him to be what he once was and to be there for me as he once was, plain and simple. How could I not?
And if we were living apart, say with H in a facility, the physical distance would be the evidence I need to really get that he is no longer there for me, literally and figuratively.
H and I continuing to live together has slowed down my grieving and transition in many ways...there is no marker like moving away or death, just a long grind down to the inevitable.
A vignette from last night (this has happened many times in the past month or two):
So last night, I'm sitting on the couch watching TV with H, holding his hand. Suddenly, his hand gets very sweaty, then very cold, and he's stopped breathing. I touch his shoulder, once, twice...nothing...Oh God is this it?...then a firm push and say his name. He comes to and says, "Oh, I must have fallen asleep."
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Tension in the house
We have mildew in our bedroom closet.... Happens pretty every Fall/Winter and we treat it by spraying with Lysol. Works well, but smells a bit.
So, the other night H couldn't sleep in the bedroom due to the Lysol smell, but it didn't bother me, so I slept in our bedroom and he slept in the guest room.
Last night, while we were in the office, one of our cats starts meowing...he does that, he's a Siamese.
H says to the cat, "Oh, honey, are you upset?" Meow. "Are you upset because I slept in the guest room last night?" Meow. "Are you upset because there's so much tension in the house?" Meow.
Truth be told, you can say anything to this cat and he will respond with meow.
H says to me, "There, even the cats are upset with what's going on here."
What can I possibly say to that?
So, the other night H couldn't sleep in the bedroom due to the Lysol smell, but it didn't bother me, so I slept in our bedroom and he slept in the guest room.
Last night, while we were in the office, one of our cats starts meowing...he does that, he's a Siamese.
H says to the cat, "Oh, honey, are you upset?" Meow. "Are you upset because I slept in the guest room last night?" Meow. "Are you upset because there's so much tension in the house?" Meow.
Truth be told, you can say anything to this cat and he will respond with meow.
H says to me, "There, even the cats are upset with what's going on here."
What can I possibly say to that?
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Anger management
The husband of a dear friend of mine has Parkinson's and the progression is limiting what he can do more and more. My friend told me that she finds herself getting so mad that her husband can't do even simple things (like the dishes) anymore...not just irritated mad, but raging mad. She asked me what I thought she should do and I said, "Don't expect anything from him anymore."
I was talking with H the other night and somehow we got onto the topic of anger, my anger. He's pressing me, what am I so angry about? "That I lost my partner, my lover, that I'm exhausted from all this." "Well," he says, "you can't be so angry and still love me. You better talk with your therapist about this (he's yelling now and goes on for about 5 minutes in a rage)." Everytime I try to say something, he cuts me off and yells louder.
He's screaming now about how our relationship isn't what it could be, should be and that this is my fault. I tell him that he's living in a fantasy world...out relationship has changed, period. More yelling, "You're the one living the fantasy...you go off to work everyday, make money, have somewhere to go...I'm hear all day, alone." He's crying now.
Don't expect anything from him anymore. Don't expect him to understand.
H's has been having dreams with lots of crying, he says. And lots of yelling. I'm not in those dreams.
Next month I'll be travelling for a week and H will be visiting family for two weeks. So, for ~3 weeks I won't see him. I need to get used to him not being in my life both literally and figuratively. It will be a very welcome break.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
He's not your partner anymore
I really struggle with how to view H these days. While I understand that he is sick, I keep expecting him... nee keep needing him...to be my partner. As I've written here before, since we still live in the same house that we bought 20 years ago, I just keep hoping and filling in blanks for him.
So, I'm whining in therapy about my disappointment about not getting my needs met and how to deal with H's issues as I go out and get my needs met (nothing too salacious, just taking some nights off to visit with friends).
Now, it's hard to even do simple things without him as he gets pissed and mopes about that I don't love him, that I’m ashamed of him, that I am tired of him, and "we never do anything together anymore." Right, doing things with him is not fun for me, it is work because he is so high maintenance.
And I'm whining about how H continues to be after sex and talks about how our relationship isn't what it used to be. Yup.
At some point, I blurt out, "Well, I just think that I should be able to talk with my partner and work through these issues…"
My therapist leans forward and says, "He's not your partner anymore. He just can't be. You are in a fantasy that he is or ever will be again. Whatever he is to you, he is no longer your partner in the way that you need one. Sure you love him and care about him, but based on everything that you've told me for the past 4 years, he will never be able to give you what you need. In fact, it continues to go the other way."
What needs to shift for me is to view him as the sad, sick little man that he's become. Maybe I won't be so angry at him if I just accept this.
And maybe, just maybe, if I can think of him differently, I can begin to move on in a way that honors him and the love that we have while still getting what I need.
So, I'm whining in therapy about my disappointment about not getting my needs met and how to deal with H's issues as I go out and get my needs met (nothing too salacious, just taking some nights off to visit with friends).
Now, it's hard to even do simple things without him as he gets pissed and mopes about that I don't love him, that I’m ashamed of him, that I am tired of him, and "we never do anything together anymore." Right, doing things with him is not fun for me, it is work because he is so high maintenance.
And I'm whining about how H continues to be after sex and talks about how our relationship isn't what it used to be. Yup.
At some point, I blurt out, "Well, I just think that I should be able to talk with my partner and work through these issues…"
My therapist leans forward and says, "He's not your partner anymore. He just can't be. You are in a fantasy that he is or ever will be again. Whatever he is to you, he is no longer your partner in the way that you need one. Sure you love him and care about him, but based on everything that you've told me for the past 4 years, he will never be able to give you what you need. In fact, it continues to go the other way."
What needs to shift for me is to view him as the sad, sick little man that he's become. Maybe I won't be so angry at him if I just accept this.
And maybe, just maybe, if I can think of him differently, I can begin to move on in a way that honors him and the love that we have while still getting what I need.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Gifts and gratitude
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?
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?
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Counseling our marriage
Up early today and busy with getting ready for a house project that involved moving some furniture, etc. Great anxiety for H as "someone is coming early in the morning and I have to have my breakfast made before they get here." So, we're both up early today.
I'm sweeping and just moving stuff around and H asks me, "Can we get some marriage counseling? I don't want to be here if we're not having sex."
"Uhhhh, sure," I answer, but not meaning it. He'll likely forget he asked me about this and I don't really care much anymore about the outcome anyway. Frankly, I would prefer to live alone and have wanted to for many years now.
And I didn't say what I was thinking, "I don't want to be here at all anymore either. I told you I was done years ago and I've said that over and over again. What part of "I'm done" don't you get?"
His question did make me sad, very sad. Our time as lovers is over and, even tho' I know this to be true, I'm very sad about this. Not only am I sad due to what H and I have lost, but I'm also sad because I want what he wants and likely as desparately as he does, just not with him.
And I just don't want to tell him "No" again and again and again.
For my new readers, sex has been a issue with H and I for awhile now. His doesn't work and I just end up in tears and can't do it. Very sad.
One bright spot is that maybe counseling will help him move on, but it hasn't in the past. We've been here before and nothing changes. Nothing at all. Sometimes, in my more irrational moments, I fantasize that he'll want to leave so that I don't have to be the bad guy and "kick him out"...sure, I'll continue to help him, but I won't have to live with him anymore.
What I can say is that it is unreasonable for me to expect him to change in any way. He just can't. And he'll never leave under his own steam.
While H may have lost some of his mind, I am losing more and more of mine as time goes on.
Yup, sometimes I just want him to die...but mostly, I just want it to be different.
I'm sweeping and just moving stuff around and H asks me, "Can we get some marriage counseling? I don't want to be here if we're not having sex."
"Uhhhh, sure," I answer, but not meaning it. He'll likely forget he asked me about this and I don't really care much anymore about the outcome anyway. Frankly, I would prefer to live alone and have wanted to for many years now.
And I didn't say what I was thinking, "I don't want to be here at all anymore either. I told you I was done years ago and I've said that over and over again. What part of "I'm done" don't you get?"
His question did make me sad, very sad. Our time as lovers is over and, even tho' I know this to be true, I'm very sad about this. Not only am I sad due to what H and I have lost, but I'm also sad because I want what he wants and likely as desparately as he does, just not with him.
And I just don't want to tell him "No" again and again and again.
For my new readers, sex has been a issue with H and I for awhile now. His doesn't work and I just end up in tears and can't do it. Very sad.
One bright spot is that maybe counseling will help him move on, but it hasn't in the past. We've been here before and nothing changes. Nothing at all. Sometimes, in my more irrational moments, I fantasize that he'll want to leave so that I don't have to be the bad guy and "kick him out"...sure, I'll continue to help him, but I won't have to live with him anymore.
What I can say is that it is unreasonable for me to expect him to change in any way. He just can't. And he'll never leave under his own steam.
While H may have lost some of his mind, I am losing more and more of mine as time goes on.
Yup, sometimes I just want him to die...but mostly, I just want it to be different.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
How do you be?
I have a hard time separating out my love and desire to care for H from our history as lovers, romantic partners, spouses, soul mates.
He so wants the romance, the way it used to be, and of course gets reassurance from me when I provide the kiss, hug, etc. I don't get any reassurance from H when he returns the favor. All I can hear in my mind is a voice screaming, "I am done with this."
Yea, I want that too...just not from him anymore.
I am done with that. For many years now, I've gone through many motions (sic) to give him that reassurance. But it get harder and harder to fake it.
And so I struggle with feeling guilty about just not wanting the romantic part from him anymore and, more to the point, dealing with his reaction about that.
The dilemma is that I love him and I know that he needs that attention (we all do), yet I just don't want to do that with him anymore.
But the real question is: How do you continue to live with someone when you are done with the romantic part, yet you desparately want that, but not with this man? And yet I love him and want the best that I can do for him.
The reality is that after being his caregiver for so long, I can't be anything but that (albeit a caregiver that loves him deeply).
Just smack his butt, etc. and make him feel good when smacking his butt is the last thing I want to do. It's not about what he needs anymore, other than the caregiving part.
How do you be under these circumsances? How am I supposed to interact with him? How are we to spend time together? What are we, then?
Neither of us likes where we are, yet here we are.
He so wants the romance, the way it used to be, and of course gets reassurance from me when I provide the kiss, hug, etc. I don't get any reassurance from H when he returns the favor. All I can hear in my mind is a voice screaming, "I am done with this."
Yea, I want that too...just not from him anymore.
I am done with that. For many years now, I've gone through many motions (sic) to give him that reassurance. But it get harder and harder to fake it.
And so I struggle with feeling guilty about just not wanting the romantic part from him anymore and, more to the point, dealing with his reaction about that.
The dilemma is that I love him and I know that he needs that attention (we all do), yet I just don't want to do that with him anymore.
But the real question is: How do you continue to live with someone when you are done with the romantic part, yet you desparately want that, but not with this man? And yet I love him and want the best that I can do for him.
The reality is that after being his caregiver for so long, I can't be anything but that (albeit a caregiver that loves him deeply).
Just smack his butt, etc. and make him feel good when smacking his butt is the last thing I want to do. It's not about what he needs anymore, other than the caregiving part.
How do you be under these circumsances? How am I supposed to interact with him? How are we to spend time together? What are we, then?
Neither of us likes where we are, yet here we are.
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
He needs so little and I need so much
I've been thinking about how to position H in my mind, my life, and my heart. Our relationship has changed so much over the years, especially the last 3 or so as he has been so sick.
And all this time, I kept thinking that his needs were so overwhelming. But you know, what he needs is reassurance, some help with meals, some companionship, some love. Pretty simple really. Yea, I think that he would like more, as do I, but I think he's also finally coming into reality.
I keep thinking that he is in my way and that because of that, I feel more resentment towards him than is warranted and fair.
But he isn't in my way. I just think that he is.
His needs aren't so great, I just think that they are.
But, I need a fully functional partner and all that entails. And I haven't had one of those in a very, very long time…oh, let's say 10 years or so.
So, at this point, it really isn't about him at all, but about me.
And all this time, I kept thinking that his needs were so overwhelming. But you know, what he needs is reassurance, some help with meals, some companionship, some love. Pretty simple really. Yea, I think that he would like more, as do I, but I think he's also finally coming into reality.
I keep thinking that he is in my way and that because of that, I feel more resentment towards him than is warranted and fair.
But he isn't in my way. I just think that he is.
His needs aren't so great, I just think that they are.
But, I need a fully functional partner and all that entails. And I haven't had one of those in a very, very long time…oh, let's say 10 years or so.
So, at this point, it really isn't about him at all, but about me.
Monday, July 28, 2008
The party in question
For many years, one of our lesbian neighbors has been having a large, very large garden party in July. Lots and lots of people attend. And for the past several years, I haven't gone.
It isn't the people or the venue, it's me: I just can't deal with seeing all those happy, healthy-looking passionate gay couples there (same reason I don't like Pride) and I'm tired of all the conversation around H's health.
Mostly, I am just tired of being the sick guy's partner.
So, this weekend I thought that I would just plan to go to the party…just plan to go for the first time in at least a few years.
Slept in on Saturday. Took a nap later. Good. Putz'd in the garden. Seems OK.
But by 4:30, I was a heaving, sobbing mess. And I continued to be a mess all evening. Even Sunday was a very emotional day. And I'm still verklempt here in the office on Monday morning.
While I'm trying very hard just to accept my lot and make the best of it, I really struggle with situations like this.
Poor H doesn't understand. For him, me not being there highlights HIS loss. For me, being there highlights MY loss.
H just thinks that I want him to die. What he doesn't seem to get is that our situation is what it is because he IS dying.
It isn't the people or the venue, it's me: I just can't deal with seeing all those happy, healthy-looking passionate gay couples there (same reason I don't like Pride) and I'm tired of all the conversation around H's health.
Mostly, I am just tired of being the sick guy's partner.
So, this weekend I thought that I would just plan to go to the party…just plan to go for the first time in at least a few years.
Slept in on Saturday. Took a nap later. Good. Putz'd in the garden. Seems OK.
But by 4:30, I was a heaving, sobbing mess. And I continued to be a mess all evening. Even Sunday was a very emotional day. And I'm still verklempt here in the office on Monday morning.
While I'm trying very hard just to accept my lot and make the best of it, I really struggle with situations like this.
Poor H doesn't understand. For him, me not being there highlights HIS loss. For me, being there highlights MY loss.
H just thinks that I want him to die. What he doesn't seem to get is that our situation is what it is because he IS dying.
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.
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Bits 'n' bats
Cutting myself some slack
I've been really ragging on myself recently about: my drinking, my performance at work, my social life, my emotional state, my choices, my depression, etc. etc. etc.
I keep forgetting that this is the cost of my choice to stay with H, plain and simple.
Once I started giving myself some grace for why I'm where I’m at, I felt much better. Forgiving others is one thing, forgiving yourself is harder, I think.
At least it's not home
After a bit of time off last week, I can happily say that work is refreshing and just a bit overwhelming. Home is just bleak.
I used to find that I enjoyed his companionship, that it nurtured me to be with him. That is no longer the case.
Odd that work is more fulfilling than home...not because work is so great, but that it's not home.
Giving up
I've tried a bunch of ways to deal with my depression: exercise, cutting back on my drinking, eating better, …. But it's just too oppressive, bordering on debilitating.
Depression is one of the stages of grief, the one that says "I can't bear to face going through this." And I really just can't.
So, today I will schedule an appointment with my Dr. to go back on my anti-depressants. Goodbye, sweet Johnson…it was nice getting to know you again.
I've been really ragging on myself recently about: my drinking, my performance at work, my social life, my emotional state, my choices, my depression, etc. etc. etc.
I keep forgetting that this is the cost of my choice to stay with H, plain and simple.
Once I started giving myself some grace for why I'm where I’m at, I felt much better. Forgiving others is one thing, forgiving yourself is harder, I think.
At least it's not home
After a bit of time off last week, I can happily say that work is refreshing and just a bit overwhelming. Home is just bleak.
I used to find that I enjoyed his companionship, that it nurtured me to be with him. That is no longer the case.
Odd that work is more fulfilling than home...not because work is so great, but that it's not home.
Giving up
I've tried a bunch of ways to deal with my depression: exercise, cutting back on my drinking, eating better, …. But it's just too oppressive, bordering on debilitating.
Depression is one of the stages of grief, the one that says "I can't bear to face going through this." And I really just can't.
So, today I will schedule an appointment with my Dr. to go back on my anti-depressants. Goodbye, sweet Johnson…it was nice getting to know you again.
Friday, July 04, 2008
If you know what I mean
I get a phone call from a long-time friend's wife yesterday. H and I have know these folks for at least a decade now. I've been invited to a BBQ on the 4th ("we wanted to invite you...") and I can bring "…a guest of your choice…anyone you want to…if you know what I mean."
I said, "Hmmmm, I'm not certain that I do, but H is taking a nap right now, so let me talk with H and I'll give you a call back."
Was kind of taken aback that H wasn't explicitly invited, nee, he was explicitly not invited. This friend's wife also told me some years ago that she didn't like H being around her (much younger then) kids, that he was "too weird."
And when this woman's husband, my friend, was here a week or so ago for a visit, he pretty much ignored H or at the very least, was patronizing and bossy with him.
While I can't claim that I am always the most patient with H, what I can say is that this behavior is not OK. It is not OK to exclude H from an invite and it is not OK to be rude to him.
I think that part of the reason this bothers me so much is that I've already moved on in my head in many ways, yet I still go through the motions of doing the right thing with H. I don't actively exclude him, I try to listen, I try to be supportive.
Yet, I see others doing what I only dream of: H is now yesterday's news. Next.
Once again, the drama is about H. It's always about him; it always is.
I said, "Hmmmm, I'm not certain that I do, but H is taking a nap right now, so let me talk with H and I'll give you a call back."
Was kind of taken aback that H wasn't explicitly invited, nee, he was explicitly not invited. This friend's wife also told me some years ago that she didn't like H being around her (much younger then) kids, that he was "too weird."
And when this woman's husband, my friend, was here a week or so ago for a visit, he pretty much ignored H or at the very least, was patronizing and bossy with him.
While I can't claim that I am always the most patient with H, what I can say is that this behavior is not OK. It is not OK to exclude H from an invite and it is not OK to be rude to him.
I think that part of the reason this bothers me so much is that I've already moved on in my head in many ways, yet I still go through the motions of doing the right thing with H. I don't actively exclude him, I try to listen, I try to be supportive.
Yet, I see others doing what I only dream of: H is now yesterday's news. Next.
Once again, the drama is about H. It's always about him; it always is.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Just enjoy him, redux
I wrote last time about how I should just enjoy what time I have with H. I wish that I did. Frankly, most of the time, I just see him as a burden now.
Now that his health is (relatively) good, we don't have a crisis to rally around, to define our time together. And what we have left after all the crises over the past 10 years is less than satisfactory for both of us. How could we both not be affected?
I think that we both struggle with how to be with one another given our roller coaster. Given where we are right now, if H were healthy enough, or thought that he would be for long enough in the future, I know that he would leave me. And that would be OK. In balance, if he hadn't got so sick, then we would not be where we are.
And while I wish that what has happened to us didn't affect us and our relationship so much…it does. How could it not?
On the occasions that we "click," it is delightful to experience the fondness, humor, and love that we have for one another. But those clicks don't happen much anymore.
And so, I find myself not being able to enjoy him very much anymore. It isn't that he's a bad person in any way (he's actually quite a sweetheart), it's just that the challenges with his health and what it's done to him and to me and to us have changed us and our relationship irrevocably.
Simply put, neither one of us is happy, neither one of us gets our needs meet, and neither one of us knows how to proceed from where we are.
Now that his health is (relatively) good, we don't have a crisis to rally around, to define our time together. And what we have left after all the crises over the past 10 years is less than satisfactory for both of us. How could we both not be affected?
I think that we both struggle with how to be with one another given our roller coaster. Given where we are right now, if H were healthy enough, or thought that he would be for long enough in the future, I know that he would leave me. And that would be OK. In balance, if he hadn't got so sick, then we would not be where we are.
And while I wish that what has happened to us didn't affect us and our relationship so much…it does. How could it not?
On the occasions that we "click," it is delightful to experience the fondness, humor, and love that we have for one another. But those clicks don't happen much anymore.
And so, I find myself not being able to enjoy him very much anymore. It isn't that he's a bad person in any way (he's actually quite a sweetheart), it's just that the challenges with his health and what it's done to him and to me and to us have changed us and our relationship irrevocably.
Simply put, neither one of us is happy, neither one of us gets our needs meet, and neither one of us knows how to proceed from where we are.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Just enjoy him
As I've written here before, H's health has been up and down many times over the past few years. When he is very sick, the obvious focus is to get him well again. And when he is well, we both wonder how long until he gets sick again and we both try to recover from the last time he was sick.
When he became so sick a few years ago, when I started this blog, we all thought it was the end, but it wasn't. And last year, we thought so too. And so on, dating back some 10 years or so.
So, I was talking with my shrink about what do I do now that he is getting better again? How do you go from a crisis to it's OK again…how should I feel? H and I are both concerned that his VL will only stay low for awhile and then start to rise again…it's happened every time.
So, how do you go forward, knowing that this will likely happen again?
My shrink laughs and says, "What else can you do but love him and enjoy him? None of us knows when we're leaving this place. All we can do is love those we love and enjoy what time we have with them."
I remember when one of our pets was very sick with cancer. Now, the pet wasn't in pain (at least the vet didn't think so), so he sent us all home and told H and me: "Spend what time you can with him, just enjoy (your pet) while he is here with you. It will be time soon enough."
Focus on the moment and enjoy them while they're here. What else can we do?
When he became so sick a few years ago, when I started this blog, we all thought it was the end, but it wasn't. And last year, we thought so too. And so on, dating back some 10 years or so.
So, I was talking with my shrink about what do I do now that he is getting better again? How do you go from a crisis to it's OK again…how should I feel? H and I are both concerned that his VL will only stay low for awhile and then start to rise again…it's happened every time.
So, how do you go forward, knowing that this will likely happen again?
My shrink laughs and says, "What else can you do but love him and enjoy him? None of us knows when we're leaving this place. All we can do is love those we love and enjoy what time we have with them."
I remember when one of our pets was very sick with cancer. Now, the pet wasn't in pain (at least the vet didn't think so), so he sent us all home and told H and me: "Spend what time you can with him, just enjoy (your pet) while he is here with you. It will be time soon enough."
Focus on the moment and enjoy them while they're here. What else can we do?
Monday, June 02, 2008
Controlling us with fluoride
One of my local cities is talking of taxing or outright banning bottled water.
H tells me last night, "They're banning bottled water in (city name). You know, the Nazi's gave their prisoners fluoride so they could control them. That's why they're banning bottled water you know, they want us to drink tap water so that they can control us."
I say, "OK, so they want us to stop drinking bottled water so that they can control us with the fluoride in tap water?"
H laughs, "That sort of sounds like one of those conspiracy theories, doesn't it? But it's true, tho'."
H tells me last night, "They're banning bottled water in (city name). You know, the Nazi's gave their prisoners fluoride so they could control them. That's why they're banning bottled water you know, they want us to drink tap water so that they can control us."
I say, "OK, so they want us to stop drinking bottled water so that they can control us with the fluoride in tap water?"
H laughs, "That sort of sounds like one of those conspiracy theories, doesn't it? But it's true, tho'."
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