Not the Life I Imagined

Why do I feel like less of a person to say that I now collect disability? I always want to add that I worked for over thirty years, owned my own music studio, was a well respected piano examiner but somehow sharing the info just makes me feel even smaller. This was never more evident until a recent conversation with my husband who was feeling overwhelmed by life and by my "health issues"as he often refers to them. To my sensitive ears, it sounds like a bad word.
Clearly, this particular night will remain one of my lowest days.....

Not being able to work full-time anymore hangs like a muddy grey cloud between us. Disability doesn't come close to the salary that I used to earn. I feel his resentment without any words between us – he won't even look at me. 

"It's not the life I imagined!" his words finally break the silence the icy tone so cold that you could almost feel the droplets of water freeze in the air . Instinctively, I cringe like a dog waiting to be chastised by its master, I feel frozen and worry if I move, I will shatter like broken glass. It is difficult to breathe, I wish I was thousands of miles away.

My husband has shared this sentiment over the years since my back disability erased much of my former life  and thrashed it until it was barely recognizable. The fact that I kept working for years being in horrific pain doesn't seem to make a difference.  It is not the life he imagined after all!!

And every time he gets exhausted and overwhelmed by life, he says these same words that never fail to make me feel small, inadequate, and devastated!

But, embers of anger flicker inside my soul, words form in my mind, "what fairytale did you think we were entitled to?" But sadly, I lack the courage to speak!

I stare at the man I have spent over 25 years with and wish for once he would just say it straight. "THIS IS NOT THE LIFE I IMAGINED," – the words seem to taunt me....

I am NOT THE WIFE HE IMAGINED?!

This Is NOT THE MARRIAGE HE IMAGINED?!

The weight of his resentment nearly drowns me. In fact if I was in an ocean, I would turn to swim into the deep inky-black waters and not back to the shore. I can truthfully say the pain of feeling like a burden equals the pain inside my body – they are finally merged as one.

I finally can speak and a torrent of questions come tumbling out....

Do you think your mom, when she was diagnosed with stage 4 ovarian cancer at 63,  thought that this was the life she imagined? 

That our friend who suddenly became a single parent because her husband deceived her by cheating on her and then walked out on his children, is this a life any of them imagined? 

My voice cracks with emotion and I think of countless other examples, but settle on my final question,

"Do you think that most people don't struggle at some point in their lives and face challenges that are unimaginable??!!

My voice is full of hurt but still I cautiously hold out the olive branch,

"Perhaps you don't mean it but you make me feel like you wish I wasn't even here?!

My breath is shaky but I am sure that this downward spiral can stop now, I am sure he will stop.

 But a long silence lingers, the emptiness full of answers...my feelings of worth tossed away like particles of debris in the ocean waves.

Intense shame towards him rises in my throat like bile truly shocked that he would let me think such a despairing thought- I am the mother of his children. It is the lowest point of my entire marriage.

"I AM STILL HERE,"I remind him softly voice but have to turn away to swallow my mouthful of tears. 

He remains silent so I finish speaking the words that hang in the air between us,

"BUT YOU MAKE ME WISH I WASN'T!"

He doesn't bother to contradict me, to correct a misunderstanding, a dreadful wrong-doing per say. His face remains locked in stony silence so I walk, bent over like a broken reed, up the stairs slowly to my own space to let my tears spill with dignity without his presence.

"I am still a person," I whisper to myself – "I am still here" my words seek to both encourage and console me.

I know my disability has made me even more sensitive but I know what has taken place will change me forever. "I am still a person of worth."

I look into my children's bedrooms to see their precious faces to remind me it is not my time to go. "I am still here."

I hear my grandmother's voice reminding me how strong I am and that I must never give up. My Mama, despite being 92 is still my rock of wisdom and faith.

 Retreating finally to my bedroom sanctuary, I lock the door and though I sob uncontrollably, I feel my tears give me strength.

"I AM STILL A PERSON," the pain flares and for once I welcome its intensity that confirms that

 "I AM STILL HERE," my crushing sobs make it difficult to breath.

I wait for my husband, convinced he will come bursting in the room to apologize and right his wrong.... BUT HE NEVER COMES.

My positive mantra and own inner strength start to pick up my shattered pieces of my self-esteem. Feelings of disappointment and anger towards my husband finally make the tears stop but not the sadness.

  I can't comprehend the person who is supposed to be my soft place to fall didn't care if I jumped.
I am overwhelmed with shame..FOR HIM! 

I pray for strength, it's true that it is not the life I imagined but I am still here!

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Note to readers: This conversation did take place exactly as described and although my husband apologized and tried to make amends the following day, I won't ever forget the injury of his words to my heart. I also encourage anyone who suffers from chronic pain to not allow even their loved ones to ever belittle or bully you. It is important that you are being cared for with compassion and recognize that you are "not your pain, nor the repercussions of facing life with a disability.

I pray that my husband and I never again take part in such a discussion.

After writing this post the night it happened, I recognized the harm I would do to both myself and my children if I stayed with a man who could be so verbally and emotionally cruel. I know that I will leave with my kids no matter how dependent I am, we will find a way! Even more frightening is if I had been in a very depressed state when made to feel so worthless, the possibility of suicide. Sadly, the thought of suicide does cross the mind of many people who suffer with chronic pain as they often feel like a burden and that their family would be better off without them. Please share with your doctor or someone if you are struggling with suicidal thoughts.

It took me a long time to acknowledge that I had been living in an abusive marriage, not where my husband put his hands on me but experiencing emotional and spiritual trauma. A physiologist had approached me a year before this particular incident asking me if I was safe and yet she knew that I was not being hit. She went on to explain that emotional trauma can leave deeper scars, but I was still living in denial and paralyzed to some degree from my depression. It took yet another incident like this one to finally wake me up. I confused my wedding vows with accepting a marriage that was not safe for me mentally, emotionally or spiritually. The depression was a catalyst for deeper pain being felt in my body and it was my intensity of my pain that was the CLEAR SIGN that things needed to change if I was to live and be healthy for myself and my children. 

 How do I teach my children what a beautiful and healthy marriage looks and feels like if I stay in a situation that is so unacceptable and incredibly sad. I thank God for giving me the strength to finally see with clear eyes what I need to do.

It is also important to recognize that many caregivers can burn out from carrying so much on their shoulders. Don't be ashamed of asking for extra support as it is tough to be on both sides of this fence. For years, I let my self-worth be tied to my physical limitations but I am finding my voice again much in part from writing this blog. Thank you to my readers who inspire my strength!