Diary of a felony

I can't recall the last time I had a nightmare after seeing a movie. 

I did, last night.  I was flipping around the channels and found Diary of a Mad Black Woman. 

I watched part of the beginning - it's her anniversary, and her husband threw her out.  I came back later, she is begging him for money.  I came back later.  He is paralyzed and she is torturing him. 

No other word for it - throwing him in a bathtub and watching him drown, then fishing him out at the last minute (attempted murder, felony).  Hitting him (assault).  Starving him (abuse).  Mocking him as he begs for help (cruel).  Horrified, I changed the channel. 

I couldn't believe torture was passing for entertainment. 

The man is crippled, I told Ron, aghast.  No matter what he did, you can walk away.  No one is forcing you to stay.  If you're going to do that, you're better off walking away.  He's better off, too. 

I couldn't even attribute it to caregiver burnout because she had only been his caregiver for a few days.  Now, huge plot hole - no paralysis patient would be sent home after a few weeks.  They would spend time in the hospital, and then at least another month in spinal injury rehab. 

Ron was a real asshole by any standard, prior to his accident.  He cheated.  He was verbally abusive.  He was an alcoholic. He worked me like a dog with no appreciation for my contributions.  He was always telling me he had nightmares I was failing him and getting him murdered.   He wouldn't even marry me. 

The accident.  At one point, standing by his bedside, Ron in a coma, I thought - "I can walk away here and no one's going to blame me".  We weren't married.  He'd made sure of that. 

Why not walk away?  I thought about it.  At this point I was pretty much alone in this. 

I finally decided Ron didn't deserve to have me stay.  Didn't deserve my loyalty.  Didn't deserve any of what I was about to give him, but I was going to give it anyway.  My mother failed me, miserably, then ran out when she realized she had maimed me for life.  My Dad and adoptive Mom failed me in other ways. 

I wasn't going to fail him.  While I didn't have to stay, I would, because I had to live with myself.  I had to answer to God.  For the duration, at least, I would be there, loving Ron 100%.  We'd see what happened but I would die one day knowing I did the right thing; that I gave the man I loved 100% - that I didn't run out on him when he needed me. 

His family was already talking about a nursing home.  If I left, that would happen, and as I told them "Why don't you shoot him, then, it's quicker".  I knew it would kill Ron. 

What a tragedy for Ron to survive the accident only to languish in a home, because no one could be bothered to care for him.  Yes, I'm flawed, but I'm better than that. 

I did what I had to do, in order to live with myself.  I don't regret it. 

I know Ron gives me 100% - what he can give me, is mine.  It may not measure up to other standards but I know he loves and values me with his whole heart.  He gives me all he has. 

I get impatient.  I find it endlessly frustrating when Ron drinks, and sits on his walker, or wheelchair, in the exact center of the kitchen or hall, completely blocking access.  I'd like to move around my house unimpeded, but I either have to go around him, ask him to move, or wait until he moves on his own.  I get annoyed. 

Do I scream at him, slap him, and try to drown him?  No.  Do I even think of it?  Maybe the yelling.  Especially if he's a little drunk and he doesn't understand, when I ask him to move. 

But I take a deep breath, and don't, because he's crippled.  He doesn't want to need a wheelchair or walker.  He wants to get around under his own power.  Ron doesn't want to have me read things for him, or identify sodas, or any of that other "I'm sighted and you're blind" stuff.  He's not doing it to bug me, he's asking because he needs it.  

I can't imagine meeting that with hateful abuse and mocking.   Ever.