To the world, you are one person...but to one person, you are the world!

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2005-02-25 at 11:25 p.m.

It's so hard.
Everything is.
Obviously, the shit I have been through in the last six months is undertandably a "rough time" to say the least, but the deeper things that I feel inside are so confusing. Knowing what I KNOW, what I FEEL, what I WISH FOR... the odds that these things will all be the same one day...
Everyone knows I have been with Brian for almost 18 years. We went to hell and back before we even married. Every major life event, good or bad, we went through together. Lately, every emotion I could ever possibly feel I have felt for him. It's intense, I can't describe it.
My last entry started 24 hours of serious soul-searching. This fight is the last fight, whether I choose to take it on or not. It's the last one. Things will get better, stay the same, or get worse. There is no way to know which will happen.
Only by Faith, Hope, and Love could I ever decide to enter into this battle. I fought it once before, when I was much younger and had a lot less to lose. I won. I emerged with a boyfriend of many years who no longer drank, did drugs, and committed himself to a decent life. A few years later, I married a man of virtue who had a big heart and a tender soul. He could look me in the eyes and see my very soul, and I let him- willingly! No walls. No fear. No inhibitions.
Life happened. Okay, granted my little traumas were pretty predictable, but his were not. Some of the most horrible things that can happen to a man happened to him. We got through it, or so I thought, together. Apparently, they took a toll on him I had no idea of- they stole his sanity.
Day by day, little by little, things got worse and worse between us. Walls went up. Walls to protect ourself. Over time, I have learned to appreciate the walls I have built. I don't fear intimacy because NO ONE can get very close to me. I have nothing to fear. I can look away and change the subject so quickly that no one is the wiser.
Tonight I saw my husband for the first time. It's hard to even out into writing how I felt, I really don't think I can. I can describe the scene, but I can't explain what happened...or how terrified I really am of it.
I brought his clean clothes to him in a plastic Aldi's bag with a little handle. I fully expected they would check the bag, and they did, and KEPT the bag. You'd be amazed what strange things they are not allowed to have in the loony bin! Brian gave me a little tour- his bathroom does not have a normal toilet paper ring, there is a round little cubby hole built into the tile where a single roll of TP resides. I have NO idea what someone could do with the little bar that normally holds it in place, but they must have thought of something!
His roomis very small and boring. One bed, two small chairs, a simple dresser/desk. Little bathroom & shower, all safetied-up.

As soon as he saw me, he stood up to hug me. TIGHT. He then pushed me away slightly and stared into my eyes, and said nothing. Hugged me again, then pushed me away again. As he looked into my eyes, I felt just (?)
There is no word for it. A description will have to do, but it still wouldn't be enough...
OK, a blinding revelation that I actually love this man, combined with a terrible sadness over what we have become, and COMPLETELY enveloped into an intense realization that this eye-to-eye intimacy was much more than my "wall" could ever handle.
I looked away. It was all I could do.
He told me he loved me, then could see I was visibly shaken. Yes, he actually NOTICED. The medication? Maybe. Normally I could walk into the room with my pants on my head and he'd fire up a conversation about snowplowing. He asked, "Sue, are you ok?" as he stared into my eyes and this tim ewouldn't let me look away. The wall broke and I couldn't stop it. I cried until he had snot covering his shirt. I couldn't stop. I never cry, and once it started, I couldn't make it stop. He just held me and told me it would be ok. After a while, he lifted my face into his hands and made me look at him, though I couldn't actually really see him clearly at that point, and said, "I will make this work. I will fix what I have broken. I want to hold you again, love you, hug you. I want to laugh with you, have fun with you again. I want to make love to you and never let you go. You have to know that. I want you and need you, I love you with all of my soul!"
Man the lifeboats, once again.
He comes home on Monday, late afternoon. He has signed himself into what they call "inpatient/outpatient" status, which means he will be inpatient from something like 8 or 9 am until 2 or 3pm, every day, from 1-3 weeks. THe timing all depends on what happens, how things go, meds, etc. He told me that after a few days in this, it is my option to join him in this if I choose to, and he of course prays that I do. He understands the program completely and keeps trying to reassure me that between us, just us, we can let the walls come down and with the right help from these people, we can bandage the wounds and pray that they will heal. He acknowledges that it is possible it won't work, though he wants it to in the worst way. He also assures me that it's probabl;y going to get ugly behind closed doors and if it gets to bad he will continue the therapy but move out to his dad's house to keep out of each other's faces until the program ends.
Yikes.
Scary.
I want this so badly, but I don't know how much fight is left inside me.
And I don't know how much risk I can take with my heart. It's been badly broken. My wall is all that I have left now.

Last Five

Nostalgic Mama - 2005-08-21
Fitting, I suppose- though a bit outdated? - 2005-07-24
Pathetic Wondering - 2005-05-30
Brain-Dead Carnie - 2005-05-22
The Bedbugs Bit Me - 2005-05-16

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