Not a day goes by...

Tonight my husband and I had an argument. I raised my voice at him, and he accused me of being manic. I found it funny, but I didn't laugh in his face. During the whole argument, I remained relatively calm, stated my gripes, raised my voice a few times to make a point (mainly STOP INTERRUPTING), and told him to please leave me alone.

If you've ever known an angry, unmedicated person with bipolar disorder, it doesn't work that way. That's why I had a hard time restraining my mirth. Either I'd be sobbing hysterically, screaming invective, battling a ferocious urge to smack him, hitting below the belt verbally, throwing all his past mistakes in his face, not acting like a Christian, or all of the above. Overall I think Jesus was OK with my behavior, especially when I cut off the argument rather than have it escalate.

Sometimes, when you've got 2 people with brain damage, nobody's happy. He hates accomodating my disability, resents it bitterly, and lets me know so in detail. I'm resigned to his attitude and feel he takes more than he gives. He'd say he shouldn't have to, that God screwed up when He stuck Ron with a brain damaged, defective.. uh. You get the idea. I say, it hurts me when you're always complaining about how I'm "not enough" for you and how I don't "measure up", can you please keep it to yourself? No, he can't, apparently. If I could change one thing about him, that would be it. But that's not happening and if it does, it'll because God moved on him. It won't happen because I hollered the "right thing" at the "right time". [laugh] That's the other way I know I'm "OK" - I can actually see the humor in what's been a very bitter, painful, and ongoing issue.

As I undressed for my shower tonight - lots of gardening today, I saw a violently purple and yellow bruise on my hip. Apparently I ran into something. My spatial awareness is pretty goofy to begin with, and my medication only makes that worse. It's not uncommon for me to run into things. I see them, I just don't process them in time to avoid a crash. And that, dear friends, is why I don't drive!

I'm queasy. It's either the depression or the lithium. I feel pretty good so I think it's just a little stomach irritation from the lithium. Recently, I had a spell with no nausea. It scared me to death, I had a very hard time adjusting to the sensation of well-being. Sadly, it didn't last long.

I'm tired. It's 8:30. I had an hours-long nap today. I only worked a few hours. But, it's my lot. Things are better than ever for me, and I don't plan to change that. I love my life. Nausea, clumsiness, slow typing, poor spelling, and all.

When I can't share my pot roast with my husband because he can't handle the hearty meat flavor (due to neuropathy), when he can't admire my neatly planted garden because he's blind, and his idea of a good day is working a few hours a coming home straight to bed, I don't complain. I signed up for this. I accept it. I regret that he's ill, and I regret that I can't share parts of my life with him.

I think, what it comes down to, is that I don't resent him for his limitations. He's got plenty. I've got limitations too, but I don't know that he takes them as seriously as he should. "Why can't you?" he demanded tonight. "Because I can't!" He used to get totally disgusted with me at the times I felt he truly grasped my limits. "I can't handle this".

When he does seem to grasp them, he resents them bitterly. He'll tell me I deserve better. I tell him, if that was supposed to make me feel better it just made me feel worse. I've never known anything else, I'm used to being the way I am. I work very hard at being the best Heather I can be, whether that's doing something I'm afraid of (going back to riding the bus), or controlling my temper when my husband is being a butt.

I wish I could convince him not to complain so bitterly about my limitations, to my face. It only hurts me. He can't grasp that. Perhaps he sees it as I'm trying to control him. That I'm telling him what to feel.

"It's not you I'm mad at, it's your brain!" Why be angry at my brain? He's angry at my brain damage but why? He's known me like this for 16 years, why must he constantly remind me I don't "measure up"? I resent him sometimes, but it's mainly due to that ugly attitude!

I tried to tell him tonight, how would you feel if I constantly complained about how difficult it is to live with a blind man? How would you feel? He changed the subject and shouted something at me.

Not a day goes by that I don't accomodate him and all his limitations with good cheer and a loving heart. I wish he could at least do it without the bitterness and complaining.