Don't talk to me about God

AGH. That's what I was told tonight by Ron.

We have a very scary paperwork issue. A couple of them, actually. We tackled one for the second time tonight. Ron decided he wanted to include a personal letter. He gave it to me.

I liked it pretty well, but wanted to tune it up a tad. Ron said "Whatever" - he was in his "I can't take anymore right now" mode that generally results in alcohol consumption. AGH. Since I had permission, I added a few explanatory lines. Ron took the flash drive from me and read it. He loved it.

"Oh, it's so expressive"! Well, good. Glad he liked it. I can't stand arrogance, because I AM prone to pride issues. I really watch that like you'd watch a flower garden for a noxious weed. If I see even a hint of pride, I want to get it out by the roots.

I said "Well, I had help." Ron got a sour face. "I asked God for help before I started on it. Just like I did this morning with the pallet jack." Ron got even more pruney. Kind of like when a little kid is about to make the "Fish face".

"Don't talk to me about God!" he snapped. Oh-kay! I retreated hastily.

"Oh, and thanks for working on the letter. I'm just mad at HIM right now." Then he went for the beer. AGH.

Some people may wonder why I'm so - devout? I hate the term "Religious" but it would probably apply here. Ron used to say that people who believed in God "needed a crutch". Boy, do I ever need a crutch!

I have brain damage that limits my interpersonal relationships to the following: casual business, internet "couldn't pick you out of a lineup" blog responders, Facebook, sales clerks, and family. That's about it! My interactions are definitely impaired. Yeah, a few people would be "bummed" if they heard I died but would I have a lot of sobbers at my funeral? Doubtful.

Agh. I can't spell tonight. I have the brain damage, I can't even drive. To me, it's science fiction. Hard for me to develop any kind of close non-family relationship. Just a statement of fact.

I am nuts. Crazy. Off my rocker. Psychotic if off my meds. Literally, I am psychotic. That's a big load!

Then, we have the side effects from the medications. Galloping attacks of the stupids are a pretty common occurance. Ron does a lot of sighing, and muttering at God under his breath, then says ominious things like "I don't blame YOU..."

I have caregiving issues, for a guy who is very angry at God, impulse control issues, and has trouble with alcohol. I love him and I hurt when he hurts, which is most of the time.

How could I not lean on God? Any one of those by themselves would break me.

Oh, and let's not forget the last, a husband who bitterly resents my faith. AGH. "I don't want you to lose your faith, but I'm so angry at Him!"

Yike. He gets all twitchy if someone is playing Gospel music in a cab. When he's mad at God, I can't even tell him I'm going to do my God Time (prayer and Bible study), 'cause he gets mad. AGH. Which sends me even closer to God.

He's the only perfect thing in my life!