Sometimes I just have to start writing and not think about what I need to say. Sometimes it just has to happen. This makes writing about something less stressful, sometimes, and the whole point of this page is to make my life less stressful. The shadows of disability and PTSD need to be brightened as much as possible so that I can sleep at night.
Enter my wife. She prefers to go by her last name, and so that’s how she will be. I’ve known Mudge for 20 years and we have been great friends for nearly all of that time. I was even at her first wedding! And no, before you think that, I had nothing to do with the end of their marriage. I, sadly, was not around at that time to help her out of a terrible situation. The up side is that through her separation and divorce, our friendship was able to flourish again. And, in that friendship, a relationship grew.
I thank every day that I married someone who can look at my crumpled body writhing in pain in my wheelchair and she can still be happy to be married to me. I’m not sure I’d have been as good a person in her shoes. She sat through the sleepless nights, the failed surgeries, the months on end where the pain was a 9+ and the sleeping medication made me nearly insane. Patiently, she watched me lose my mind, my insides and my coherence while the doctors took me off medications with no tapering or warning. There were many nights I don’t even remember and all I know is that life was miserable for her and it was my fault.
I can never pay her back for the fact that she continues to love me despite my failing body. I can’t apologize enough for being impossible to do anything fun with because disability, pain, or both keep me tied to the bed (not in the fun way). When intimacy is an issue because the medication makes me exhausted or impossible to enjoy anything. I re-live the fights over nothing because I am sure I was annoyed over nothing or too exhausted to be a normal human being.
It takes a special human being to love someone who is defective. To wake up in the morning to a person who’s had persistent PTSD nightmares, or hasn’t slept in 3 days, or is sick from medication, and they still say they think you are beautiful. Without her I am sure that I would no longer be alive. She keeps me going when I’m sick of being sick and leaves me alone when I need to get away from it all.
I hope that our relationship stays strong forever. The therapy, her support, and the fun we manage to have together makes life worth continuing. And I hope, that despite my limitations, she enjoys my and is challenged and fulfilled by me despite the fact that I cannot catch her if she wants to get away.
Plus, I’m just so damn awesome, who wouldn’t want to me married to me? I make this wheelchair look goooooood.