I have been a single parent for going on 3 weeks now. It is not like I'm not used to it. The Military really prepares you to be a single parent. The kids are pretty well behaved, things are running smoothly, and there is actually a lot less stress for me right now. It helps that Son is over Hand Foot Mouth Disease and Daughter is on antibiotics for Strep. That was a rough week. The kids and I are getting into a new routine and Husband is working hard at getting better.
He called me this evening to tell me about his first official session with his new therapist and the new treatment he will be receiving. It is an intensive treatment called Prolonged Exposure. He's very excited about it and most importantly, hopeful. I've never seen him so hopeful, and happy. He misses us, of course. But I believe he is beginning to get his independence back as well. He relied so heavily upon me, and now I believe he is finding strength in himself. He told me that he is holding nothing back. Every experience he is been burying deep down is now out in the open--from childhood experiences to war. Things that I prayed he would discuss with his therapist but knew he probably never would he told her today. I am hopeful as well, but then I always have been. There had been dark times. Times I did not even want things to work out. But I never lost hope that it would. I know it will. It is simply a matter of time.
I was telling a good friend today how easy it is for me to be a single parent right now. That the stress level is much lower. I can even focus better to the point where my friends are commenting on my increased level of focus (I am ADHD). The kids are adjusting well. I am adjusting well. Husband comes home on the weekends and we are a happy family again. We have always had a better relationship when it has been long distance. We miss each other so deeply that everything else does not seem to matter much. Perhaps when we are together we tend to take each other for granted. Or maybe we are both so reactive and overly sensitive with each other. Regardless of the cause, the situation remains that we seem to be happier apart. I realize much of that has to do with my ADHD and other issues and his PTSD...it does make us reactive and volatile. I am working hard on controlling my temper with him and he is doing the same. Lately, the kids have been enjoying a more relaxed mommy. A thought began to creep in my mind that perhaps this could be a more permanent situation. Perhaps we would be happier with Daddy coming home on the weekends only. A sort of separation. However, would Husband be ok on his own? I could not answer that. I do not want to answer that. I miss my husband terribly. I want him back. I want us to be happy--together. I want us to be a family again. I want our home to be filled with love and support and PEACE. I know it will happen. I know we both will finally get what we hope for.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
It's A Hard Enough Road
I know I've touched on this before in probably every post I've blogged so far. However, it is probably the most difficult thing, or one of the most difficult things, I have to deal with. I can't offer advice on how to change it because I don't know myself. I just got off the phone with a family member and I cried and cried during the call and after the call. Perhaps it's simply the dynamics between us that causes such anger to flair and feelings trampled upon. All I want, all I desperately need is support from my family. I need them to know that I know what I'm doing. I need them to know that my husband is doing his best to get better. That I do trust him and I am within every right to do so. I understand that some allow their symptoms to get so out of control that they would hurt those around them, I also know that this is something those closest to someone with PTSD should be aware of and look for signs of. However, if I was blind to this knowledge I would not have insisted my husband get help now before it even has a chance to get to that point.
All I hope and pray for is that my family be understanding, forgiving, and supportive. I'm sorry my husband hurt your feelings. I'm sorry I am hurting your feelings for standing up for him. However, it is detrimental to the health of our marriage that we stick together. All I can do is apologize to you for what he's done. All I can hope for is that you understand what he's going through and show some grace. What more can I do? I will not allow anyone to criticize my husband. I will not allow anyone to become a wedge between us. One day I hope you understand all this.
If your spouse is suffering from PTSD perhaps you understand what I'm going through. I am not, by any means, saying that you should turn a deaf ear to the concerns of your family. You should consider them, like I do. Because sometimes we are blind to the things that are happening because we don't want to admit what is going on. I do listen to my family. I do hear their advice. But I am not blind to what is happening. I see everything. I'm not happy with everything that is going on with my husband. I'm not happy he rolls his eyes in frustration at my mom, or snaps at my sister. But I do know that he loves them so much, he loves my entire family and is incredibly grateful for all they've done for us.
I'm not entirely sure how to handle this. All I can do is pray for wisdom and patience. I know part of it is my inability to brush it off. Quite frankly, it hurts to have my ability to care for my children questioned. It hurts to have my husband's trustworthiness questioned. That is how it should be. My father did not have PTSD yet we grew up feeling like we had to walk on egg shells around him to keep him from blowing up. I will not allow that to happen to my children. I love my father and he did the best he could, much better than what he was taught. He was a good father and provided for us. My husband is a good father, the best. He knows when he is reaching his frustration limit and walks away before he blows up and yells at the kids. He rarely yells at me when we're arguing, though I cannot say the same about myself (which is something that really should not be done when arguing with someone with PTSD).
All I need from anyone is more support and less criticism. I encourage anyone in the same situation to explain to the unsupported friend or family how you feel and that you appreciate their advice and opinion but to respect yours as well. But if they don't know that they are hurting you, how will they know to stop? Don't assume they know how their words make you feel, they might think that they are protecting you as in my case, however they do need to know that their words are cutting deep. Keep a listening ear open, but don't allow them to tear down your spouse either. There is a difference between blindly sticking up for your spouse and standing up for them. It might be a fine line, but it's an important one to distinguish. Even a simple "I understand what you are saying, and I know you care about me. However, he is my husband (she is my wife) and I would appreciate it if you didn't talk about him/her in that way. There is constructive criticism then there is bashing. I feel you are bashing my spouse." I hope you have better luck at it than I have so far.
Because it's a hard enough road we are taking without adding unsupportive and critical family and friends to the mixture.
All I hope and pray for is that my family be understanding, forgiving, and supportive. I'm sorry my husband hurt your feelings. I'm sorry I am hurting your feelings for standing up for him. However, it is detrimental to the health of our marriage that we stick together. All I can do is apologize to you for what he's done. All I can hope for is that you understand what he's going through and show some grace. What more can I do? I will not allow anyone to criticize my husband. I will not allow anyone to become a wedge between us. One day I hope you understand all this.
If your spouse is suffering from PTSD perhaps you understand what I'm going through. I am not, by any means, saying that you should turn a deaf ear to the concerns of your family. You should consider them, like I do. Because sometimes we are blind to the things that are happening because we don't want to admit what is going on. I do listen to my family. I do hear their advice. But I am not blind to what is happening. I see everything. I'm not happy with everything that is going on with my husband. I'm not happy he rolls his eyes in frustration at my mom, or snaps at my sister. But I do know that he loves them so much, he loves my entire family and is incredibly grateful for all they've done for us.
I'm not entirely sure how to handle this. All I can do is pray for wisdom and patience. I know part of it is my inability to brush it off. Quite frankly, it hurts to have my ability to care for my children questioned. It hurts to have my husband's trustworthiness questioned. That is how it should be. My father did not have PTSD yet we grew up feeling like we had to walk on egg shells around him to keep him from blowing up. I will not allow that to happen to my children. I love my father and he did the best he could, much better than what he was taught. He was a good father and provided for us. My husband is a good father, the best. He knows when he is reaching his frustration limit and walks away before he blows up and yells at the kids. He rarely yells at me when we're arguing, though I cannot say the same about myself (which is something that really should not be done when arguing with someone with PTSD).
All I need from anyone is more support and less criticism. I encourage anyone in the same situation to explain to the unsupported friend or family how you feel and that you appreciate their advice and opinion but to respect yours as well. But if they don't know that they are hurting you, how will they know to stop? Don't assume they know how their words make you feel, they might think that they are protecting you as in my case, however they do need to know that their words are cutting deep. Keep a listening ear open, but don't allow them to tear down your spouse either. There is a difference between blindly sticking up for your spouse and standing up for them. It might be a fine line, but it's an important one to distinguish. Even a simple "I understand what you are saying, and I know you care about me. However, he is my husband (she is my wife) and I would appreciate it if you didn't talk about him/her in that way. There is constructive criticism then there is bashing. I feel you are bashing my spouse." I hope you have better luck at it than I have so far.
Because it's a hard enough road we are taking without adding unsupportive and critical family and friends to the mixture.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Gossip Is Therapy's Worst Enemy
When my husband was told of the 6 week program he's now in he didn't want to even discuss it. I couldn't blame him. I had my reservations about it. Sure we can hide the fact he's in the mental health clinic at the VA for a week, but a 6 week program? People would wonder where he's at. He finally decided that his mental health and his family were more important to him then what others were saying. We decided not to hide where he was. But it's not like you can make a public announcement "I will be gone for the next 6 weeks in a program at the VA for intensive therapy for PTSD and TBI". And a public Facebook status is just tacky, besides those who won't realize he's gone don't need to know. I am very proud of my husband for taking that step and forgetting about what others might think of him. Of course he's still self conscious about it. I'm self conscious for him. I don't want people to misunderstand this program or what he's personally going through. And, ultimately, it's none of their business. If someone wants to tell me something they'll tell me. All I have to do is ask them. That's how I feel about things. Not everyone shares the same views.
We recently had to face this very issue. Because we didn't hide where Husband is, I posted on his wall that I missed him. I realize people can see these posts, I didn't care that they knew he was gone. I didn't care that they discussed amongst themselves where they think he is. I don't even care that people pass that information on...as long as they aren't doing it in a way that deems "gossip". You know, the malicious none-of-my-business-but-I'm-going-to-act-like-I-know-all-about-everything type of talk, the I-could-care-less-about-them-but-this-is-too-juicy-to-pass-up kind of talk. I really could care less about what people think about me, but when they talk about my family it hurts deep. I don't want people to see him in a bad light, because he is a good man. If he wasn't a good man he wouldn't be in therapy. He's not locked up. He can come home anytime he wants to. He's not an alcoholic, he's not a druggie, he's not a wife beater. He's in a program that will provide intensive therapy and coping skills. What makes it so effective is that it is a residential thing...therapy is not watered down by time. He doesn't have just one therapy session every week. It's a all day event every day for 6 weeks (except the weekends). If that makes him crazy or psycho then think whatever you want. Today Husband and I have been hurt and angered by gossip.
Many soldiers and families are hurt because of gossip. The stigma that attaches itself to therapy, medication, and programs is undeserving negative. Why does it make someone weak to stand up and say "I need to do this for myself and for my family"? How does it make them crazy or weak? My husband checked himself in both for the mental health clinic and for this program. I didn't force him, I didn't push it. I told him it was his decision and I would support him in it as long as he was doing what was best for him in the long run. Was the week stay at the VA mental health clinic necessary? Maybe, but I don't think he would have committed suicide if he hadn't gone. I think it gave him a lot to think about and showed him how he could end up if he didn't face his demons much like a lot of the more permanent residents there. But he did it because he cared about his family, he cared enough for us that he would make sure not to lose us in any way. He did it because he wants to be better and he knows he can't do it on his own. He decided to do this program. And even though now he knows that people are talking about him, he's still dedicated to becoming better. I used to be embarrassed by the fact that I went to see a therapist. But I got over it. Now I'm not ashamed to say "My therapist once told me..." or to admit I went to a therapist. (Though I didn't originally go to see this therapist about dealing with my husband's PTSD, we ended up talking about it a lot. I would recommend any spouse to go see a therapist about living with their PTSD. Tricare will cover Family Therapy, and the VA offers family counseling).
Don't let embarrassment or pride stand in the way of what you need to do for your family and for yourself. Don't be afraid to tell those closest to you what's going on and what you're feeling. Remember,
It takes a strong and courageous person to put themselves out there and do what they need to do to better themselves. People don't talk about a closet alcoholic because that person refuses to get help and when their lives come crashing down people wonder what happened. Then they look down their noses on them anyway. No matter what you do, people will talk. So why bother with what they think? Just do what you need to do for yourself, and for your family.
We recently had to face this very issue. Because we didn't hide where Husband is, I posted on his wall that I missed him. I realize people can see these posts, I didn't care that they knew he was gone. I didn't care that they discussed amongst themselves where they think he is. I don't even care that people pass that information on...as long as they aren't doing it in a way that deems "gossip". You know, the malicious none-of-my-business-but-I'm-going-to-act-like-I-know-all-about-everything type of talk, the I-could-care-less-about-them-but-this-is-too-juicy-to-pass-up kind of talk. I really could care less about what people think about me, but when they talk about my family it hurts deep. I don't want people to see him in a bad light, because he is a good man. If he wasn't a good man he wouldn't be in therapy. He's not locked up. He can come home anytime he wants to. He's not an alcoholic, he's not a druggie, he's not a wife beater. He's in a program that will provide intensive therapy and coping skills. What makes it so effective is that it is a residential thing...therapy is not watered down by time. He doesn't have just one therapy session every week. It's a all day event every day for 6 weeks (except the weekends). If that makes him crazy or psycho then think whatever you want. Today Husband and I have been hurt and angered by gossip.
Many soldiers and families are hurt because of gossip. The stigma that attaches itself to therapy, medication, and programs is undeserving negative. Why does it make someone weak to stand up and say "I need to do this for myself and for my family"? How does it make them crazy or weak? My husband checked himself in both for the mental health clinic and for this program. I didn't force him, I didn't push it. I told him it was his decision and I would support him in it as long as he was doing what was best for him in the long run. Was the week stay at the VA mental health clinic necessary? Maybe, but I don't think he would have committed suicide if he hadn't gone. I think it gave him a lot to think about and showed him how he could end up if he didn't face his demons much like a lot of the more permanent residents there. But he did it because he cared about his family, he cared enough for us that he would make sure not to lose us in any way. He did it because he wants to be better and he knows he can't do it on his own. He decided to do this program. And even though now he knows that people are talking about him, he's still dedicated to becoming better. I used to be embarrassed by the fact that I went to see a therapist. But I got over it. Now I'm not ashamed to say "My therapist once told me..." or to admit I went to a therapist. (Though I didn't originally go to see this therapist about dealing with my husband's PTSD, we ended up talking about it a lot. I would recommend any spouse to go see a therapist about living with their PTSD. Tricare will cover Family Therapy, and the VA offers family counseling).
Don't let embarrassment or pride stand in the way of what you need to do for your family and for yourself. Don't be afraid to tell those closest to you what's going on and what you're feeling. Remember,
"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind." ~Dr. Seuss
It takes a strong and courageous person to put themselves out there and do what they need to do to better themselves. People don't talk about a closet alcoholic because that person refuses to get help and when their lives come crashing down people wonder what happened. Then they look down their noses on them anyway. No matter what you do, people will talk. So why bother with what they think? Just do what you need to do for yourself, and for your family.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
It's Quite A Ride
One of the hardest things about my husband having PTSD is that his mood is unpredictable. He doesn't have screaming or violent fits of rage, however his icy silence cuts to the core. I don't always know when I'll have my happy, affectionate, totally-devoted-to-me husband or the depressed, angry, and couldn't-care-less man I don't know. Sometimes I get something in between. At times I can tell he's trying hard to be who he really is and cast aside the obstacles of PTSD. Other times he completely gives in and I fall to sleep sobbing wondering how long I can keep this up. It is an emotional roller coaster ride with ups and downs that span hours, not just months or even days. I confide in only the closest of my friends and I wonder if they think I'm crazy for being "done" one day and absolutely in love the next. If not they probably would if they realized that it's not just a day to day phenomenon, some days it's hourly. Those are hard days to bear. However, what is harder still is days on end of being shut out completely. So, if I can see glimpses of the man I fell in love with I'll endure this roller coaster.
I don't know if everyone married to someone suffering from PTSD experiences this. I know I do. And I know that it's hard. However, I realize that I love my husband. I mean, I really really love him. It's not a love that fades. It's not a conditional love based on the way he treats me or the way he acts. It's an unconditional forever kind of love. I will never "fall out" of love with him. I might not always feel like I love him. But loving him is a choice I make every day. One of the hallmarks of PTSD is the inability to feel love. I see that in my husband at times. He tries hard to show me he loves me but sometimes I just know he struggles to feel it. Sometimes he doesn't even try to hide it, he gives in to that lack of feeling toward me. However, he also knows that in his heart of hearts he loves me more than anything else in this world. He chooses to love me even when he doesn't feel it. I choose to love him even when I don't feel it. Some professionals have expressed to him their surprise that I have been so supportive of him and stuck by his side when others would have left. I mentioned this in another post. The thing about that is, I know that God has His hand on my husband's life. God allows him to feel more love toward me than he typically should. God allows me to understand my husband more than I typically should. I cannot turn my back on my marriage knowing that God is with us. Maybe one day my husband will give up completely and God will see into his heart and tell me it's ok to leave. Not that God is forcing me to stay now, but He is telling me He is with me. He is with us.
There are times when I get angry. There are times when, I'm ashamed to admit, I battle feelings of hatred toward my husband. There are times when I am so angry and wounded I want to physically and emotionally hurt him to show him how deeply he's wounded my heart. I'm not perfect. I have my own issues that compound our situation. We are both wounded birds carrying our individual baggage. My last therapist once told me that I have Abandonment Rage. Which apparently means that when my husband wounds me I tend to fly off the handle into sometimes such a ridiculous overreaction because I am afraid of losing him and that fuels my fear of abandonment...of rejection. Which rejection has always been my biggest fear, that was nothing new to me. I don't know if I fully agree with her, but I do know that there is something inside of me that causes me to grossly overreact at times. Perhaps it's just that I allow all the little hurts to build up until I am so crippled with hurt and rejection I blow up. Let's face it. Having a spouse with PTSD means a lot of rejection. I am rejected over and over again in different areas of our marriage and in differing degrees. He might not even realize I feel rejected over something he's said or done. But the feeling is there regardless. Every time he shuts me out, every time he refuses to talk to me, every time he refuses to touch me...rejection. Thankfully, it's not always like that. No, there are times when he completely surprises me and sweeps me off my feet in such a show of love, dedication, appreciation, and passion that I once again remember the burning love he has for me. And that keeps me going even through the next very dark valley of this unpredictable ride.
I don't know if everyone married to someone suffering from PTSD experiences this. I know I do. And I know that it's hard. However, I realize that I love my husband. I mean, I really really love him. It's not a love that fades. It's not a conditional love based on the way he treats me or the way he acts. It's an unconditional forever kind of love. I will never "fall out" of love with him. I might not always feel like I love him. But loving him is a choice I make every day. One of the hallmarks of PTSD is the inability to feel love. I see that in my husband at times. He tries hard to show me he loves me but sometimes I just know he struggles to feel it. Sometimes he doesn't even try to hide it, he gives in to that lack of feeling toward me. However, he also knows that in his heart of hearts he loves me more than anything else in this world. He chooses to love me even when he doesn't feel it. I choose to love him even when I don't feel it. Some professionals have expressed to him their surprise that I have been so supportive of him and stuck by his side when others would have left. I mentioned this in another post. The thing about that is, I know that God has His hand on my husband's life. God allows him to feel more love toward me than he typically should. God allows me to understand my husband more than I typically should. I cannot turn my back on my marriage knowing that God is with us. Maybe one day my husband will give up completely and God will see into his heart and tell me it's ok to leave. Not that God is forcing me to stay now, but He is telling me He is with me. He is with us.
There are times when I get angry. There are times when, I'm ashamed to admit, I battle feelings of hatred toward my husband. There are times when I am so angry and wounded I want to physically and emotionally hurt him to show him how deeply he's wounded my heart. I'm not perfect. I have my own issues that compound our situation. We are both wounded birds carrying our individual baggage. My last therapist once told me that I have Abandonment Rage. Which apparently means that when my husband wounds me I tend to fly off the handle into sometimes such a ridiculous overreaction because I am afraid of losing him and that fuels my fear of abandonment...of rejection. Which rejection has always been my biggest fear, that was nothing new to me. I don't know if I fully agree with her, but I do know that there is something inside of me that causes me to grossly overreact at times. Perhaps it's just that I allow all the little hurts to build up until I am so crippled with hurt and rejection I blow up. Let's face it. Having a spouse with PTSD means a lot of rejection. I am rejected over and over again in different areas of our marriage and in differing degrees. He might not even realize I feel rejected over something he's said or done. But the feeling is there regardless. Every time he shuts me out, every time he refuses to talk to me, every time he refuses to touch me...rejection. Thankfully, it's not always like that. No, there are times when he completely surprises me and sweeps me off my feet in such a show of love, dedication, appreciation, and passion that I once again remember the burning love he has for me. And that keeps me going even through the next very dark valley of this unpredictable ride.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
A Bend in The Road
Shortly after my last post my husband admitted to be plagued with thoughts of suicide. This was my biggest fear. He thought he was hiding it from me, however, he is learning that he cannot hide things from me. Like I mentioned in my last post, God has given me wells of understanding that I don't fully comprehend. God speaks to my heart of what my husband struggles with. One night, after a confrontation during which my husband refused to speak with me, I left the bedroom and went to sleep with our daughter. I had begged him to simply hold me because I needed to know he loved me. He refused. It cut me to the core. So I told him everyone has their breaking point and I have reached mine. I could deal with the aggression, deal with the frustration, the fears, the lack of intamacy. But I could not deal with is blatant disregard for my feelings and needs, especially at such a vulerable moment. As I settled into my daughter's bed God spoke to me to go back to my husband. It wasn't an audible request, it was a stirring in my heart, a thought in my mind. I am a very stubborn person. I don't give in so easily after I've made such a stand against my husband's behaviour. But the feeling would not go away. I went to him. I put my arms around him and rested my head on his chest and whispered how much I love him. He held me tightly.
Later he agreed to see his therapist. He made an appointment and I told him we both needed to make lists to describe what was going on. I made mine the night before his appointment while he slept. He made his the next afternoon as we had lunch together before his appointment. I told him, "Don't be mad about what I put on my list." My list was two pages, typed and single space. He wrote his on a napkin. He said, "Don't be mad about what I put on mine." The strange thing is we both were referring to a single item I had put on my list (which he hadn't seen) and he was about to put on his list. Suicide. It's not something I like to admit my husband dealt with, deals with. He referred to that night...he had grabbed his bottle of pills and sat there with a handful of meds ready to end it all. He struggled to snap out of it but all he could think of was how much better the kids and I would be without him. Then he saw my daughter's face. He played out the memory of coming home from Afghanistan and our 10 month old daughter being the first to see him, her chubby arms outstretched. It's amazing to me...that he could leave when she was only 4 months and yet she recognize him so readily 6 months later. It was a God thing. God knew he would need that memory to survive. I believe that with all my heart. So many young children refuse to go to their fathers after such a long separation or they shyly hang back taking hours to days to warm back up. It's a heart-breaking site, but never one my husband had to experience.
I held back a sob as I read as he wrote that experience. I told him, "Why do you think I went back in that night? Do you think I would normally do that, being so stubborn as I am? God told me." Tears streamed down his face. He began to understand, I think, how much I love him...and most importantly, how much God loves him. During the appointment the Psychiatrist suggest my husband check himself in at the VA's psych ward if he couldn't tell the Dr that he would never actually go through with suicide. It broke my heart to hear him respond, "I don't know that I wouldn't. I don't know. Sometimes it just is all I can think about. They would be better off without me around." He truly believed that...that we would be better off. It broke my heart for him. He spent the next week there. It was a very hard experience. We both sobbed at one point or another, breaking down completely. He didn't want anyone to know, so there were very few people I could confide in. Not many people can understand the pain I suffered that week. My husband was so broken, so hurt and I couldn't help him. I was a failure. My kids cried for him daily, asking where he was. I couldn't tell them.
Oh, I wish I could say it was kittens and rainbows when he was finally released. It wasn't. It was better, but we still had a long way to go. He still shut me out. He still shuts me out, refusing to talk to me, hold me, pushing me away perhaps out of fear of losing me. I still fear he thinks of suicide. I became afraid of finding him dead and trying to explain to our children what happened to daddy. While he was in the hospital I called his work telling them he would not be coming back in, indefinitely. They were kind and understanding (he worked as a civilian with the military). They said he had his job back whenever he wanted it. I was grateful. A week or two after my husband came home he had an appointment with his usual therapist. The other therapist, Dr W, had told him of a 6 week inpatient program through the VA. I had encouraged Husband to think about it. He was adament against it. At his new appointment the usual therapist, Dr. M, mentioned the 6 week program. To my surprise Husband said he wanted to do it. I don't know what changed his mind. Perhaps he thought coming home from the psych ward would make things all better and quickly realized it didn't. Whatever it was, he was committed to getting better for the sake of his family, and for himself. It's coming close to a week now since he started the program. I miss him. The kids miss him. He can take his phone so that's nice. But we've already had a big argument. He mentioned suicide, I called the hospital staff, they rushed into his room at midnight interrogating him. We made up and laughed about his experience. I think he learned not to mention suicide so flippantly. I don't know why he even did. Perhaps he knew he had pushed me too far and was afraid of losing me so he tried to real me back in with the fear of losing him. Truth is, I will always be there for him. I absolutely believe our marriage can make it. But it depends on his willingness to better himself. To move foward and leave the past behind. There might come a time when I am forced to leave. But I will always hope that if it came to that, he would put his family first and do whatever it took to get us back. He's proving that to me now and I'm grateful.
I do have a wonderful husband. Though I cry myself to sleep because of the hurt and pain and sense of failure, I know that I am blessed. God has blessed me with a wonderful man, wonderful children, and the knowledge that God will never leave me no matter how dark the path gets. Psalm 42:5 has gotten me through the darkest valleys of my life, "Why are you so downcast, Oh my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for even yet I will praise Him, my Savior and my God." God also laid this Scripture on my heart when Josh went into the psych ward that week... 2 Corinthians 4:8-9,13-14 "We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.... It is written: "I believed; therefore I have spoken." With that same spirit of faith we also believe and therefore speak, because we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead will also raise us with Jesus and present us with you in his presence."
God will never leave me nor forsake me even in my darkest hour. I pray that this bend in the road is the start of a new life, leaving past hurts and pain and fears behind...for both my husband and myself.
Later he agreed to see his therapist. He made an appointment and I told him we both needed to make lists to describe what was going on. I made mine the night before his appointment while he slept. He made his the next afternoon as we had lunch together before his appointment. I told him, "Don't be mad about what I put on my list." My list was two pages, typed and single space. He wrote his on a napkin. He said, "Don't be mad about what I put on mine." The strange thing is we both were referring to a single item I had put on my list (which he hadn't seen) and he was about to put on his list. Suicide. It's not something I like to admit my husband dealt with, deals with. He referred to that night...he had grabbed his bottle of pills and sat there with a handful of meds ready to end it all. He struggled to snap out of it but all he could think of was how much better the kids and I would be without him. Then he saw my daughter's face. He played out the memory of coming home from Afghanistan and our 10 month old daughter being the first to see him, her chubby arms outstretched. It's amazing to me...that he could leave when she was only 4 months and yet she recognize him so readily 6 months later. It was a God thing. God knew he would need that memory to survive. I believe that with all my heart. So many young children refuse to go to their fathers after such a long separation or they shyly hang back taking hours to days to warm back up. It's a heart-breaking site, but never one my husband had to experience.
I held back a sob as I read as he wrote that experience. I told him, "Why do you think I went back in that night? Do you think I would normally do that, being so stubborn as I am? God told me." Tears streamed down his face. He began to understand, I think, how much I love him...and most importantly, how much God loves him. During the appointment the Psychiatrist suggest my husband check himself in at the VA's psych ward if he couldn't tell the Dr that he would never actually go through with suicide. It broke my heart to hear him respond, "I don't know that I wouldn't. I don't know. Sometimes it just is all I can think about. They would be better off without me around." He truly believed that...that we would be better off. It broke my heart for him. He spent the next week there. It was a very hard experience. We both sobbed at one point or another, breaking down completely. He didn't want anyone to know, so there were very few people I could confide in. Not many people can understand the pain I suffered that week. My husband was so broken, so hurt and I couldn't help him. I was a failure. My kids cried for him daily, asking where he was. I couldn't tell them.
Oh, I wish I could say it was kittens and rainbows when he was finally released. It wasn't. It was better, but we still had a long way to go. He still shut me out. He still shuts me out, refusing to talk to me, hold me, pushing me away perhaps out of fear of losing me. I still fear he thinks of suicide. I became afraid of finding him dead and trying to explain to our children what happened to daddy. While he was in the hospital I called his work telling them he would not be coming back in, indefinitely. They were kind and understanding (he worked as a civilian with the military). They said he had his job back whenever he wanted it. I was grateful. A week or two after my husband came home he had an appointment with his usual therapist. The other therapist, Dr W, had told him of a 6 week inpatient program through the VA. I had encouraged Husband to think about it. He was adament against it. At his new appointment the usual therapist, Dr. M, mentioned the 6 week program. To my surprise Husband said he wanted to do it. I don't know what changed his mind. Perhaps he thought coming home from the psych ward would make things all better and quickly realized it didn't. Whatever it was, he was committed to getting better for the sake of his family, and for himself. It's coming close to a week now since he started the program. I miss him. The kids miss him. He can take his phone so that's nice. But we've already had a big argument. He mentioned suicide, I called the hospital staff, they rushed into his room at midnight interrogating him. We made up and laughed about his experience. I think he learned not to mention suicide so flippantly. I don't know why he even did. Perhaps he knew he had pushed me too far and was afraid of losing me so he tried to real me back in with the fear of losing him. Truth is, I will always be there for him. I absolutely believe our marriage can make it. But it depends on his willingness to better himself. To move foward and leave the past behind. There might come a time when I am forced to leave. But I will always hope that if it came to that, he would put his family first and do whatever it took to get us back. He's proving that to me now and I'm grateful.
I do have a wonderful husband. Though I cry myself to sleep because of the hurt and pain and sense of failure, I know that I am blessed. God has blessed me with a wonderful man, wonderful children, and the knowledge that God will never leave me no matter how dark the path gets. Psalm 42:5 has gotten me through the darkest valleys of my life, "Why are you so downcast, Oh my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for even yet I will praise Him, my Savior and my God." God also laid this Scripture on my heart when Josh went into the psych ward that week... 2 Corinthians 4:8-9,13-14 "We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.... It is written: "I believed; therefore I have spoken." With that same spirit of faith we also believe and therefore speak, because we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead will also raise us with Jesus and present us with you in his presence."
God will never leave me nor forsake me even in my darkest hour. I pray that this bend in the road is the start of a new life, leaving past hurts and pain and fears behind...for both my husband and myself.
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About Me
- Blessed With Grace
- I'm a mother of two awesome kids who keep me entertained. I struggle to keep it all together some days and sometimes feel like I'm a juggler in a circus act. But God is good to me and He will always sustain me!