Without Him

At any given moment, I have a couple of triggers that really get me upset and anxious. 

1.  A Ron blackout.

2.  Neighbor kids screaming and kicking the ball into the side of my house.  Unfortunately about 8 feet of the side of my house is the property line.  I did write a letter to the father and he at least keeps the kids out of my yard now.  They would throw the ball into my yard, run around my house screaming, slam open the gate, run around in my yard screaming for a while making rude comments about us, then run out screaming.  I also had other kids (on the other side) looking in my windows so I try to tolerate the ball-kicking.  It never lasts more than an hour or so. 

3.  Loud music from neighbors.  It's not so much the music affecting me, but it affects Ron in a very negative fashion and there's a lot of very loud complaining on his part.  His attitude is worse, to me, than the music. 

4.  Cat bringing home a live rodent. 

So, out of all of that I only had to deal with #2, two days in a row.  That's now bad.  Praise God it does get dark early, and the kids are in a very-long-hours charter school.  They are gone about 10 and a half hours a day. 

When they do get home, though, they seem to be pretty wound up, hence the ball in the side of my house and the shouting at the top of their lungs.  I try to play music. 

I honestly have no idea why I find this so upsetting.  Maybe it's the ball thudding into my wall.  I sure couldn't hang any pictures on that wall in the bedroom!  Maybe it's the ball's thudding into my bedroom wall.  Maybe I just don't like screaming and irregular loud noises.  Maybe all of it.

All I read it's people talking about how they love the sound of children playing, and I just want to yell "Shut up!".  It makes me feel awful to share this. 

We went into work early and Ron was just picking at me all morning.  I did what he wanted, and he yelled at me for that.  I was pretty unhappy.  I told him "I did what you wanted, and you're yelling at me."  He said something about "Using my logic" and I reminded him that his logic is not my logic, I have a bonafide disability, and I'm going to go on the last thing he told me to do. 

He also made rude comments when I asked him for clarification.  "Make a list" he said.  "About what?" I asked.  He just scoffed at me and that is very hurtful.  I don't understand?  Why is that such a crime?  Why do I get derisive comments, scoffing, called names?   I tell him, I don't understand.

I'm asking for help.  Ron tells me "Oh, I'm just mad at God because you're disabled so it comes out that way."  So, I ask, you victimize me twice?  "Oh, sorry about that."  Yeah, so am I! 

I couldn't help but think, I bet there is at least one really nice guy out there who would be happy to clarify everything I asked.  Who would never, ever, mock me when I asked for more information. 

And that, friends, is a very dangerous place to be.  The devil hates marriage - every single one.  He would love to destroy every marriage, including mine.  He would love to send the "perfect" guy my way. 

So I end up having to guard my heart twice over, once from Ron, once from possible other guys.  Ron, finally realizing I was deeply hurt, said I needed to "get over it and forgive" him.   "That's going to take a while" I told him.  "I don't have a lot of buttons but one of them is getting yelled at when I ask for help."  I wanted to add, I never yell at you when you ask me for help.  I just do it. 

Then he said "Well, if I hurt you I'm sorry but you need to get over it."  Then a lot of rude comments about my illness, medication, etc.  Maybe I was just "mental" today.  He was going to "tell" my doctor. 

I really wanted to slap my head.  Go ahead.  Tell my doctor I am depressed!  I am going to tell him anyway!   I asked if he knew my mood right now.  He said angry.  I said, no I am sad.  I am already battling depression, you're not supportive, and attacking me when I ask for help.  Oh, he said, that's God's fault.  He made you broken.  It's his fault you're unhappy.  Why do you keep defending Him? 

I felt like I could make the same statement about Ron.  I just ignored him and worked on what we needed to do. 

I still felt hurt.  Still do, some.  God is my rock.  I will do whatever He tells me to do, and that means forgiving Ron. 

I will also be adjusting my expectations.  I used to think a husband would provide most of my emotional needs.  He would support me when I was down, rejoice when I'm up, embark with me on exciting-carefully-medicated-adventures, protect me from painful things (including his own judgement).  He'd be my companion, my lover, my friend. 

Instead, I have a boss (at work) a patient, and an occasional companion.  Not what I expected.  If I didn't know God Ron would have been gone a while back.

As it is, I feel like God's my husband.  He provides for my emotional needs, has never attacked me, has my best interests at heart every second, says what he means.  He created me for a purpose.  His word is faithful.  He even died for me. 

Years ago I confronted Ron about the verbal abuse and told him it had to stop, or I'd leave.  He was utterly shocked.  He couldn't believe I didn't feel loved, because he paid the bills, didn't he?  He kept asking me that. 

AGH. 

Not only that, but sales are truly terrible.  We have ongoing issues with a couple of vending machines.  They won't take money, or steal the money.  People just aren't buying; our new area is small, cramped, and loud.  We don't have a stockroom.  The repairman wants $80 for a repair that didn't work.  We need a new coin mech. 

I worry about my shoulder, pulling Ron behind the cart.  I pull the cart behind me, he's behind the cart, hanging onto a rope we tied to the back of the cart.  That cannot be ergonomically sound.  Lots of worries. 

My Dad is having medical testing because he has possible additional heart issues and may require a pacemaker.  I am a Daddy's girl. 

I took 2 naps today.  I needed both.  I ate spaghetti rings out of a can for lunch and used that to take my pills. 

I wonder if I will sleep tonight, or if I'll be up for hours once I lie down.  I have for the last week or so. 

And Ron wonders why I'm stressed!  I tried to tell him the last and he said "When do you ever sleep well?" 

Thank you for your support. 

Worst of all, I'm really thinking about those antianxiety things, and the sleeping pills, prescribed "by accident" last visit.  Wondering if I'd be so quick to send them back this time. 

DANGER.   

That's a bad place, and that's when I go dig into my Bibles like a tick, and spend extra time praying.  Because God knows I can't do any of it without Him.