Loving Harder

I have mentioned several times on this blog that my spouse still suffers long-term (and probably permanent) life-altering effects from the residual impact that toxins produced by bacteria have had on his body, his brain, and his endocrine system. My spouse was sick for three long years, and now suffers from permanent damage the disease left behind.

I see the behaviors as a result of…

… the adrenal gland impact every day, some times not-so-bad, and some times, just awful.

It breaks my heart to hear him rage in anger and frustration, unable to check his emotional outbursts.

When this happens, I don’t take it personally. I ignore the yelling and screaming. Accusations that I said or did something that I didn’t do just drop to the floor. Those statements are not my loving spouse. They come from lingering damage to his brain and endocrine system.

I steel my resolve. It isn’t my spouse who is out of control … it is that disease’s toxic damage that makes him so agitated and upset.

Yesterday, I was expecting to have a nice dinner and romantic evening with the man I love, but it wasn’t to be. Rage and anger over scheduling yet another doctor’s appointment (the emotional disturbance going on in his head prevent him from being able to think rationally and doing that for himself any more) — typical of this disease’s lingering toxic effects — ruined any chance of calm and loving serenity.

I left him a cute little gift before I left for work. During fits of anger about the appointment snafu, he made hurtful statements about that gift and my intentions, which caused me to cry. I did not rage back or retort in anger, but just swallow hard, dab my tears, and realize — this is not my spouse.

Anger and hurt can reach a breaking point and I have observed some family and others with whom I am close end up divorcing. I will not let this disease’s toxic damage cause that to happen.

My response … just listen. Love him. Love him harder. Let him blow off steam. Rage if he wants. Just let it go. This isn’t my man. I can hate the disease and its toxic after-effects. But I will only love my man more. It’s not his fault.

Love is hard in many respects. Loving someone whose emotions cannot be controlled is harder. Loving someone with an illness that medical professionals dismiss as real and won’t test or treat is even harder.

But that is what I do.

Life is short: pull your boots on and show those you love how you love them. I vow never to let this disease dominate our life and let it win. Never.

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About BHD

I am an average middle-aged biker who lives in the greater suburban sprawl of the Maryland suburbs north and west of Washington, DC, USA.

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