It can't hurt

I think God wants me to work some more on respecting Ron. 

Don't get me wrong, Ron is oblivious to all of this.  He may feel it in his gut but nothing overt. 

In a lot of ways, I do respect him.  I don't know anyone else who could endure what he has, come back, and go back to work. 

However, I don't know whether it's the alcohol, or a general negative outlook, but I see him eaten up by negativity, lack of motivation, bitterness, and an f-it-all attitude.  He just goes on and on - negativity during every conversation we have, for, minimum, several minutes at a time. 

Yes, he is depressed.  I believe dysthymia, a state of chronic and unrelenting depression.  I believe it is one of the things driving him to drink. 

Where does understanding and acceptance end?  Where does respect and tolerance end?  Where do I say "I can't take anymore" and endure the inevitable tantrum?  

I understand he has theological issues.  He is very eager for God to rapture us, new bodies, improved souls, paradise forever.  But he rants about God being "slow" and "Torture man" unendingly. 

I can only take so much, especially when I suffer from depression.  I could care less what he says when I'm manic.  I have an easy time ignoring him or blowing it off. 

When I'm depressed, already battling to have a positive outlook, wow, I managed to take a shower and do the laundry, plus work - it's horrific. 

But I need to be aware I could become bitter myself.  I'm not there but I could tip pretty easily.  I begin to view everyone with cynicism.  For instance, a thing going around Facebook.  A woman saying she "has" to have an automatic door opener because "The door is so heavy" when she's dealing with her disabled child.  The doors are not heavy, Ron can open them with his bad arm.  Don't get me wrong, if you break it you fix it, but she's exaggerating and waving her disabled child around for sympathy.  That gets me irky. 

Either that, or she needs to hit the gym.  If you have a kid in a wheelchair you need some strength. 

I need plenty of strength to deal with Ron, physical and mental.  Happily, the physical end of things has never been a big deal.  At age 40, and obese, I just have to be careful coming down the steps of the "big" paratransit van.  They are high steps and I'll tweak my bad knee (otherwise happy) if I don't. 

Mentally, I suppose I endure more than an average woman, which I guess makes me stronger.  Does that mean I want a high tolerance for depression and negativity? 

No, but it can't hurt.