Mystical Rebirth

I have been home from my odyssey in jail since last Wednesday morning. My time there truly was an odyssey of discovery and reconnection with others who were poised to teach me about recovery. sue has frequently quoted that when you are ready to learn teachers will magically appear. My time in jail was like that......amazingly. I want to write about it but have not managed to yet. I journaled on whatever scraps of paper I could find while "inside." I hope eventually to post all of that.

I will, for now, skip to the outcome, or the outcomes so far. I am not angry!
That is the biggest change. I am certainly not happy, but neither am I depressed or traumatized. These are huge changes. I have openly expressed in court and to my two, that I am an alcoholic. I know now I may not ever drink for the rest of my life. As sad as that is in some ways, I am generally pretty relieved and "OK" feeling about it. Tomorrow I will be evaluated to enter into an intensive outpatient alcoholism rehabilitation program. I attended my first ever AA meeting in jail. I look forward to many more meetings out here in the community.

I know now this is me. I did this. I am ill. This was not done to me by sue, by t, by the police, by my ex, by my daughter, by my former board, by jail, by the numerous losses and upheavals in my life over the last couple of years. I am sure the physiological changes resulting from my weight loss surgery had a great deal of impact. The thing is that while explaining the etiology of all this is academically interesting, all in all, it really doesn't matter. All that matters is that I can't drink and never will again.

I need to recover. I need to mend with my two loves. I need to build a new life. I will do all of that.

Thank you to all of you who have supported all three of us as we have grown, struggled, raged, fought, and loved our way through this difficult passage.

We three are still "we three" and despite our sadness at the recent loss of t's mom and her great grief, we are in tact. I don't deserve the loyalty, tenacity, compassion, and forgiveness my two loves have rained down on me. I have not made that easy.

t and swan I love you both.

Mores & mores,

Mine Always and All Ways,

Tom

Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you've imagined.

New...

This day will take us forward from all that has gone before to all that is yet to be. 

We've been shaken and battered.  We are feeling lost and worn and more than a bit tentative.  We are also excited to be back together, more aware than at anytime in recent months of the wonder and gift of our love for one another.  I don't think that any of us has a clear sense of the road ahead, and so we must begin to walk this new path without a definite view of the eventual destination. 

We cannot rewrite the story, because we cannot go back to the beginning.  The beginning of all that has been is lost in the very far distant past.  Our story, to this moment, is precisely what it is -- for good or bad.  What we can do is begin today, to make a different ending to our story...  And so today is a day that is new, and we begin from right here.

swan

Today...a fairy tale

Ok...so....let's say you decide you want a Wendy's hamburger. You want it very badly. Soooo you go to Wendy's and place your order. You wait for over an hour to pay for that order, but you want this burger more than anything in the world, so you wait. Then they tell you to go across town to pickup your hamburger. You get into your car and haul ass across town, only to be told they had not received the order and that you have to wait outside in the cold until the order comes through. BUT they are about to close and you might have to come back tomorrow morning to get your burger. You ask them to contact the store where your order was placed and they say that they will try, but you still have to go outside and wait because you are not welcome in their store. So you go outside and try to call the original store, only to find they closed 10 minutes ago. You try everything you can to get your burger and are finally told the order has arrived......BUT they are out of hamburger and will not have more until the morning. You try to change your order to a chicken sandwich and are told that it was not on the original order so you cannot have that either. Your only alternative is to go home, then come back the next morning when the hamburger is being delivered.

This was my day.....and we all know I was not interested in getting a hamburger. I did everything I was asked and/or told I needed to do. I followed all of the rules. I was told things were being done and they were not being done as promised. If Wendy's ran their business as this County Office runs theirs, they would be out of business and bankrupt before year's end. But because we are at the mercy of people who do not give a damned about anything or anyone, we are forced to be separated one more night.

It is not right. It is not fair. I am furious. And even more furious that there is nothing I can do about my family being treated badly.

Our tax dollars at work???..... Work? ..... HARDLY!!!!

one ticked off T

Signs

Tom goes to court today.  We have no idea what to expect -- any of us.  We are hopeful, but also worried.  For T and I, this brings up a mixture of things -- wanting him home, but wanting to be safe, too.

We have neither of us slept in days.  Worrying and fussing.

Today, we are seeing signs in everything that happens:  in the playing of a long ago cello solo by Pablo Cassals that he said spoke of his dreams of freedom and peace, of a gospel story at church with the children this morning about Saul of Tarsus, knocked to the road by a force unseen -- and set upon a new path; in the relatively easy work tasks set for T this morning...

If the universe is largely a mystery -- X, then the mystery surrounds and holds us today.  We are adrift in the arms of that mystery, hoping that the small boat of our love may carry us safely to some as yet unseen shore.  Court should happen at 12:45 here in the Eastern time zone.  If you are inclined to offer some bit of energy at that time, it would work to hold us up and we would be most grateful.

swan

Mopping Up

I want to take a break from the "high drama" of our lives to blow off some steam in a totally mundane area of my life.  After all, the necessary chores and daily rounds go on even when everything else goes straight to hell.  That is why I need to spend a few minutes complaining about the Swiffer Wet Jet mop.

Remember that last March, we had laminate floors installed in our two condominiums.  They have been really nice to have and they look great -- when they look great.  Of course, keeping them looking great takes some work.  They have to be pretty regularly swept and mopped, and that dark wood tone is not nearly as forgiving as carpeting was.  Every single bit of dust and cat fur shows.  Even yuckier, as we have come into the full blast of winter, we've learned that, here in the Midwest where people use salt to melt the ice on the streets and sidewalks, it doesn't take long to begin to see white, ghostly looking footprints and dried up puddles all over the place.  Not attractive. 

When we first had the floors done, the installers told us that they always recommend the Swiffer Wet Jet to clean them.  They raved about the Swiffer and told us it was the "BEST THING EVER" to keep our floors looking shiny and wonderful.  So, we went off and invested in two wet jets; one for each side -- and all the other junk that goes with them.  We have, in the intervening months, purchased box after box of Swiffer pads and Swiffer cleaning solution, and we have dutifully mopped and mopped and mopped.  The verdict?  The Swiffer Wet Jet -- SUCKS!  It mostly just spreads stuff around.  It really doesn't clean.  The cleaning solution is expensive.  To get our whole place clean takes at least two and often three pads, and the floor always ends up looking streaky and cloudy.  The mop goes through batteries -- yet another expense.  The spray button is in the exact spot on the handle where I tend to put my hand to push the mop, and I have never yet figured out how to hit the sprayer button to dispense cleaning solution ONLY when I want to do so.  Too, I have been completely unable to understand how to make the sprayer put solution where I want it to go -- which is NOT on my walls or furniture.  Grrrrr!

I give it up.  Maybe I am just too old fashioned -- or perhaps just too old, but as of today, I have retired my Swiffer and resurrected my bucket and sponge mop.  I will go back to doing my floors the way my mother and grandmother did them -- with a mop (occasionally doing it up right with a good, serious scrubbing on my hands and knees).  I'll determine the contents of my cleaning solution, thank you very much.  I've washed enough floors to know when it takes water; when it needs some soap; when a vinegar rinse will suffice; and when I need to get serious and add a bit of Pine Sol.  No more Swiffer for me.  Getting my floors clean is not rocket science.  It is a simple thing and I am going back to simple.

swan

Encouraging

Each evening, I am able to speak, by phone, with Tom.  The calls are monitored and our time is short, but the opportunity to talk is precious.  There is a protection order in place, and so Tom and T cannot have any sort of contact -- it is very hard.  Even exchanges that pass through me as intermediary are not allowed, and so we all have to be very careful.  We, none of us, want things to be made any worse at this point.

The encouraging thing is that with each call, I can hear him transforming his thinking, seeing things in a different way, coming to a new understanding.  Each time we talk, he relays to me stories of people and events that are touching him and helping him to learn about himself -- and perhaps see a path forward. 

• On the very first day, there was a man who spoke to him of recovery and AA.  That man was released the next day.
• On the second day, there was a man who is recovering from an addiction to cocaine who asked Tom for help with his resume.  Working together on this very prosaic task seemed to give Tom some sense of calm and a feeling of self-worth.
• In the middle of the night, when the authorities came to wake him up and move him to another place, he found, inexplicably lying on the bare bunk, a bible.
• Early the next morning, one of the men that shares his room, offered him a warm shirt so that he might be a bit more comfortable.
• The library contained a book by John Bradshaw, called Homecoming, and reading that seems to be offering a depth of insight and understanding.
• This morning he had the opportunity to attend a meeting with three men from AA.  It seems it was an emotional experience.  They left him with a copy of the AA Big Book.

I don't know what any of that will end up meaning.  I am hoping that this is a beginning of a new path ahead for us all.  We have huge obstacles to overcome -- legal and financial, as well as personal.  Nothing is likely to be resolved quickly.  Perhaps I am grasping at straws, but I am collecting these bits of encouragement and holding them close.

Sue

Our Family -- Today

I am going to just say the things that are true, so that we can quit worrying about what to say here for now.

On Tuesday evening, after we returned home from the funeral and burial for T's mother, things descended into an alcohol-fueled crisis. 
Tom is not currently living with us, and that may be the reality for the foreseeable future.
T and I are working to sort out logistics and details, trying to figure out how to keep our homes and keep our family intact.  She and I are of one mind, working in concert, but uncertain what we can really bring to pass.
Clearly, there will be very little of the customary content here anytime soon.

Sue

We are done.

It has been a very long week. Mom's viewing was this past Monday evening and we all got thru' it unscathed.....sorta.

My brother, my niece, and I all woke up Tuesday morning to hoarse voices, nasty rain, and Mom's funeral. All 3 of us hoped we just talked too much at the viewing.....nope.

Yesterday, I had a nasty sore throat all day and a headache....haven't had a headache since before my knee replacement because Vicodin is a wonderful thing. My brother is still raspy and I told my niece to get her butt to the doctor.

Today, I'm even worse. Head congestion, cough, sore throat, sinus pressure. I called our Doc and in a snow storm went to see him. He is a sweet man with a plan. Simply put, I have a nasty sinus infection. Have been prescribed a Z-Pack and told to take long, hot, steamy showers.

I already took the week off from work to get a chunk of Mom's stuff completed. There will be even more to do in the future when we decide to liquidate her home and belongings. And of course there is that nasty probate for the house and car. I am the oldest so I am the Executrix.

This week has sucked the big-wazoo in too many ways to count. I am heading for a hot soak in my tub with a book and then bed with my tissue box.

I am done, in more ways than one.

t

She is gone....

Yesterday, the entire family made it to Mom's house. Coming from all over Ohio and Michigan, we met and each person had time to speak with Mom while she was still aware. We had Hospice on hand, around the clock, to keep her comfortable. As the evening went on, my niece (Mom's primary care giver) and I finally laid down for naps around midnight and I sent Tom and Sue home for bed. It looked like Mom was going to linger and everyone was exhausted. At 1am, I was awaken and told it was time. The family was around Mom's bed. We all told her we loved her and that it was ok, we would all be fine. And at 1:07am, she breathed her last breath. There was no final struggle for air. She just slowed her breathing and then stopped.

I called Tom and he and Sue came right back. Everyone was able to spend whatever time they wanted with Mom before our Hospice nurse called the funeral home. And Tom drove me home at 4am.

My Mom was not only the anchor of our family, she was the heart. She held each of us as fiercely as a mother bear and as gently as if we were baby birds. We were her pride and joy and she loved each and every one of us as if we were the MOST IMPORTANT person in her world. We have become blended over marriage and divorce and she loved each part of the whole as if they were her own blood. She was a woman who never met anyone she disliked. Everyone was her friend and everyone was welcome.

I will miss her terribly. I feel very lost and scared about being without her guidance and love. I know she is with Dad and they are sharing the world's largest ice cream cone and dancing a jitterbug, finally together again.

To all of you who have sent such kindness to me and my family, I cannot thank you enough. Your support has held me up on the darkest of days and has given me strength to continue.

To my Tom and my Sue, she loved you dearly. And I cannot express how glad I was to know that when I was down, you were there holding her and loving her, just as much as I was. I love you both so much and so did she.

Her final wish was that in lieu of flowers, donations be made to St. Jude's Children's Hospital. Just as she cared for the children of her heart, she cared for all children.

T

T's Mom's Crisis

T's Mom is in respiratory distress with oxygenation levels hovering in a range between 60% and 80%. She has, as one would expect, great agitation and discomfort. Hospice is doing a fabulous job of crisis case management and making her comfortable at home, as is t's mom's great wish that she remain at home.

T went up to Dayton late last night as this latest crisis ensued, and spent the night there holding her mom close, supporting her niece, who has become her grandmother's live-in direct care and support person, and doing what she can to feel that she is giving her best loving and caring support to her mom during this crisis, as she has through all the others her mom has had in the last year and a half since her Mom's surgery and subsequent strokes.

In the last week her Mom's respiration diminished to a level where she can no longer tolerate standing beyond pivoting from a wheel chair to her recliner, bed, or the toilet. Additionally she seems to have lost her ability to swallow food other than liquids.

It would seem obvious that this is going to be the end of her life. We know certainly that she is not going to be "cured" of her present conditions, on the other hand, we are all unready to have her go. We have had several times in the last year and a half when it was "obviously" the end. Each time with amazing courage and resilience she has rebounded, and we have had the gift of this sweet soul's presence with us for yet a while longer. We shall see how this progresses.

The good news, if there is any, is that in just the last 48 or 72 hours t, swan, and I have felt more healed and bonded again than at anytime in the last three months since our family's crisis, described here so lividly, has developed. Hopefully we will all be better able to support each other, and especially our t, through whatever it is that is headed our way.

T's Mom, Eleanor, is as good and sweet and giving a woman as you will ever meet. She has spent her life loving her family, and making family (literally) of people who had no family, and who needed love, whether they were 3 months old or 50 years old, no matter what the circumstances were that caused them to be alone and in need. She has always taken great joy in being alive, despite what challenges life placed in her path, and that has never been more true, than over the last year and a half since her strokes. We all are holding her as close in our hearts as we can, and holding onto each other.

We love you t so much, and love your Mom so dearly.

Mores & mores,

Tom

Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you've imagined.

Believing

We've had some good days.  We've had some bad days.  We are tired, scared, shaken, hopeful, hopeless, determined, desperate, confused, patient, impatient, uncertain...  We are, by times, all of that and more.  The power balance, that has for so long formed the foundation of our lives together, has shifted; tilted; ground to a near standstill...  Moving forward in that realm remains something that is ahead for us, we believe.  

And that is the core of what I think we are about -- all of us:  we are believing.  On so many levels, and in so many ways, we are each clinging to a belief in a future we cannot yet see.  We are determinedly believing in the power and strength of what we have had together -- what we've built together.  We are working to believe the best of one another, and refusing to believe the worst of each other.  

There isn't a lot of wisdom that I have to share about the choice to keep on believing.  I feel like I am in the middle of the storm and cannot see very clearly.  So perhaps some, with more wisdom than I'll ever manage, can offer some perspective on the subject: 

By believing passionately in something that still does not exist, we create it. The nonexistent is whatever we have not sufficiently desired.
Franz Kafka

Every person is the creation of himself, the image of his own thinking and believing. As individuals think and believe, so they are.
Claude M. Bristol

Faith consists in believing when it is beyond the power of reason to believe.
Voltaire

Magic is believing in yourself, if you can do that, you can make anything happen.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Life's like a movie, write your own ending. Keep believing, keep pretending.
Jim Henson

To love means loving the unlovable. To forgive means pardoning the unpardonable. Faith means believing the unbelievable. Hope means hoping when everything seems hopeless.
Gilbert K. Chesterton

We've survived by believing our life is going to get better.
Paul Simon

swan

A Good Day

I am hesitant to even name the current state of our reality, but today, for the first time since all of this began, we seem to be having a pretty good day. 
He is calmer.  When He talks, it sounds like His voice again.  He is, right now, in walking on the treadmill, and later, we'll gather around the fire place, have some pizza, and watch the NFL playoff game. 
T has finished her first week back at work, even managing to put in some overtime hours, and seems to be feeling pretty good.  She has cut way back on her pain medication, and still seems to be OK.  She'll spend a few hours tomorrow afternoon visiting with her mom, but otherwise is trying to take it pretty easy this weekend.
Both T and I have made appointments to meet with the same therapist as Tom is seeing.  Those initial appointments are scheduled Wednesday.  It should be an interesting afternoon for all of us, but even moreso for our therapist.  The good news is that we have health insurance coverage for it all.  It seems that a certain person, with whom you are all familiar, spent a lot of time and energy  over His 35 year career advocating to mental health care to be treated the same as medical care related to physical ailments.  That "mental health parity" has become the law now, and so each of us within the clan can seek and receive mental health supports and treatments. 
None of us are inclined to  believe that everything is better, healed, or fixed, but each of us is relieved and glad for this one day; for the opportunity to breath a calm, quiet breath; for being able to look around and see the faceds of people that we love -- and know that they love us. 

Tomorrow is a mystery, still.  Today is a pretty good day.

swan

First Day Back to Work

I DID IT!!!! Went the full 8 hours, then had a blood test, then drove to Mom's for a brief visit......and I am still doing just fine! I was worried that I would be ready for a nap around 1pm, but not at all! And while I was at work, I was listening to one of our favorite singer/songwriters, Mary Chapin Carpenter. This song came on and I sat and got all teary because it is so very much "Now".....

Jubilee (Mary Chapin Carpenter)

I can tell by the way you're walking
That you don't want company
I'll let you alone and I'll let you walk on
And in your own good time you'll be
Back where the sun can find you
Under the wise wishing tree
And with all of them made, we'll lie under the shade
And call it a jubilee

And I can tell by the way you're talking
That the past isn't letting you go
But there's only so long you can take it all on
And then the wrong's gotta be on it's own
And when you're ready to leave it behind you
You'll look back, and all that you'll see
Is the wreckage and rust that you left in the dust
On your way to the jubilee

And I can tell by the way you're listening
That you're still expecting to hear
Your name being called like a summons to all
Who have failed to account for their doubts and their fears
They can't add up to much without you
And so if it were just up to me
I'd take hold of your hand, saying come hear the band
Play your song at the jubilee

And I can tell by the way you're searching
For something you can't even name
That you haven't been able to come to the table
Simply glad that you came
And when you feel like this try to imagine
That we're all like fragile boats on the sea
Just scanning the night for that great guiding light
Announcing the jubilee

And I can tell by the way you're standing
With your eyes filling with tears
That it's habit alone keeps you turning for home
Even though your home is right here
Where the people who love you are gathered
Under the wise wishing tree
May we all be considered then straight on delivered
Down to the jubilee

'Cause the people who love you are waiting
And they'll wait just as long as need be
When we look back and say those were halcyon days
We're talking 'bout jubilee

I do so love me some MCC......and I love my family even mores and mores

t

Waiting

One of the subtleties of BDSM slavery is learning to wait.  For eight and one half years, I've waited to know what He would choose to watch on the television, waited to know when He would be ready to go to bed each evening, waited to know when He would want to play or make love, waited to know when He would want a meal or a snack.  I've followed His lead in big and small things until waiting for Him and waiting on Him became second nature. 

Part of what has been difficult, as we've moved through these early weeks of living with and trying to address the issues created by His PTSD, is that exact habit of waiting.  Symptomatic of the disorder is a constellation of symptoms that interfere with His ability and inclination to direct our lives, set the direction, or exert control in the same way.

So...

• When it comes time to prepare a meal -- He doesn't care.
• If asked if He wants a hug or a kiss, most often He'll respond, "Yeah, I guess." 
• Should T or I suggest doing anything -- a movie, or a snuggle perhaps -- He'll say, "whatever you guys want."

Through everyday, that small, defeated, disengaged sound is the voice of the Man who has been the dynamic center of our world.  It is a scary thing.  The king has simply walked off His throne and left us standing there looking at one another, wondering what to do next. 

Who steps in to fill the void?  Should we do that?  Is there an option? 

And when we do move to take charge, to make decisions, to manage in the gap -- how do we cope, emotionally with His sense of being manipulated, and emasculated by our actions?  It is an impossible dilemma. 

And so ... we swing back and forth from expectant waiting to necessary action and decision making.  Just another place where life is out of kilter -- for now.

swan

What We Have Learned About PTSD

It should be obvious, by now, to most who are reading along with us that the emotional health of our family has been seriously compromised by events of the last months.  At the heart of our struggles is the very complicated and difficult reality that Master suffers from PTSD which was engendered by His brutal and frightening contact with our local police, jail, and court.

Everything changed for Him, and hence, for all of us in those days, and nothing we knew (or thought we knew) from before seems to apply anymore.  We occasionally get comments or private emails from well-meaning folks – offering advice or counsel or outright direction as to how we ought to proceed.  I understand how very difficult it is to watch us struggle and flail and hurt, and I am sure that sense of helplessness and discomfort is what drives people to try and “fix” whatever it is that seems “wrong” with us.  Far more helpful, from my perspective (and I can’t speak for the rest of the family), are those who simply sit with us, cheer for all of us, and offer the sort of advice encapsulated in the words of one friend who told me to “keep pouring love on the flames.” 

Whatever was before, the reality for our family at present is that we are very much like a ship at sea without rudder or captain.  On any given day, in any given moment, there may be only one of us, or perhaps there is not even one of us, capable of figuring out what to do or which way to go.  If it all looks chaotic from the outside, that is precisely because it is all embroiled in total chaos.   It is likely that, the story of our lives in the next months, and therefore the vast majority of what appears here will be related directly or indirectly to the vagaries of dealing with PTSD. 

For those who are interested in knowing more about what is known about the disorder, here is a brief primer: 

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is a medical condition. It is a specific alteration in brain function due to experiencing something real, shocking, and profoundly disturbing. Once the circuits in the brain are affected by the PTSD pattern, a survivor has the following three problems:

• Uncontrollable, Intrusive Memory – Memory is seriously impaired.  Not as in amnesia, but in the opposite way:  The trauma comes back, bursting into awareness, when it isn't wanted or welcome. This “hot memory” lasts minutes to hours and may be clear or altered, like a dream. The victim may feel entirely out of conscious control and fear they are going crazy. Often the trauma comes back in subtle ways - a fleeting feeling, a vague sense of dis-ease. This may not be terrifying, but when it occurs frequently it changes one's whole sense of being the person they once were. The worst memory symptom is the waking nightmare, the flashback. This is as vivid as reality, and may actually seem like reality.
• Emotional Anesthesia -- A person with PTSD feels like a shadow of their former self. Some say they have no feeling. They are distant and detached. They wish they had more zest for life and they know they disappoint those who want them to be interactive and lively. But the genuine desire to socialize just isn't there. PTSD is not quite the same as depression, but may bring on an episode of depression.
• Anxiety -- PTSD makes a person anxious. The usual pattern includes irritability, impaired concentration, sleep disturbance, being “jumpy” (easily startled), and worried about threats and threatening individuals. This last element of PTSD pattern anxiety is called “hypervigilance.”

So, that is what we are dealing with here.  PTSD is a physical condition and it is real.

By definition, PTSD lasts at least a month but the difficult cases last several years.

As partners, T and I are trying to learn, quickly, what we can do that is helpful – and what is not… 

• We are learning to ask if He wants a hug, a kiss, a massage – or would it be better if He were left alone?
• We are working to learn how to listen when He just needs to tell someone what He’s experiencing and feeling.  I am not as good at this as I should be; becoming angry and defensive when it feels like He is rehashing and blaming me over and over again.  It is a personal limitation that I am working to overcome, trying to increase my emotional resilience so I can be an effective listener.
• We are learning to recognize, anticipate, and minimize the situations that create unwanted recollections for Him.  Sometimes we see the train coming at us down the tracks at us, but we seem to miss the clues and signals an awful lot of the time.  Hopefully, we’ll get better at that as we go along. 
• We are learning to believe that His emotional distancing and His rage is not about us.   It is hard, in the midst of all of this, not to wonder if He love us.  Honestly – there are times, when He is lashing out, full of bitterness and despair, when it is hard not to question whether WE love Him.  We are a full blown mess – all of us.  We are working to avoid pushing for an answer to the question, “When is He going to get over it?” That question feels urgent at some level.  On the other hand, I doubt very much that there is any way to answer that, accurately, from this vantage point. 
• We are trying to learn to help by being there without imposing an agenda. “Being there” can be a challenge – His moods are unpredictable and not always pleasant.  Sometimes, we are learning, it is enough to just be “in the space” without needing anything from Him -- it is hard to do, and there are no rules.
• We are learning to live with His heightened anxiety.  He worries.  He imagines enemies everywhere.  He believes that “they” are plotting to do Him harm – and given the way things transpired, He has some very real basis for distrust.  Walking helps.  When we can manage it, humor helps.  When He’ll tolerate it, touch helps. 
• We are trying to hold each other up.  In the field, the partner, friend, or spouse of someone with PTSD is at recognized as being at risk of a condition called “caregiver burden.” Perhaps T and I need professional help as much as He does.  We are surely considering that possibility. Mostly, we are working to take care of Him, take care of ourselves, take care of each other. 

Whenever one of us reaches the breaking point; whenever one of us feels that it is impossible – that we can’t do it anymore, the other two end up pleading for another day.  So far, we’ve managed, at every crisis point, to beg for more time; for just a little bit of patience; for some slight glimmer of hope.  It is a scary business.  I think we are all afraid.  I know we are all tired.  We have many months ahead of us – and that will only get us through the “official” and “legally-supervised” part of this.  It really does feel like we have to get through that before He (and so we) can begin to heal.  Until then, we will hang on.  One day.   And one day.  And one day. 

Thank you, all of you, who have so far walked this path with us.  Your presence is a great gift.

swan