Skip to main content

Day 3 of The Onslaught

I know everyone wants to feel good about themselves and sleep the slèep of the righteous.  They want to be secure in the notion that they are good judges of character.  People generally see what they want to see.

However, too many of us know the truth of hat goes on behind closed doors.  From all public appearance my husband may look like an unselfish, long-suffering caregiver but I'm here to break my silence and tell the truth.  I am being abused.  Verbally and emotionally mostly with just a smattering of physical to keep me in line.  

He has bullied me and dumped on me for years.  He has forbade me to participate in activities which have given me joy and built my self esteem.  He has kept me isolated from those who could help.  Nowadays, it's easier for him than ever.  People applaud his loyalty that he stays with his terminally-ill wife, selflessly attending to her every need.  Seriously?!

He is angry, resentful, and cruel.  In front of others, he is loving and attentive.  Feeding me, lifting me, and braving the ladies room to toilet me.  He talks a good game at the ALS Support Group meetings and he is in the minority as the male caregiver.  He's good-looking to boot.  Who wouldn't love the quiet, unassuming, silvering construction worker?  I have loved this man for years!

In private, my requests for basic caregiving is met with barely-capped anger, exaggerated movements (enough to keep me hurting and/or off balance, and plenty of malevolent looks, accusations that I could do more.  He keeps me out of the water aerobic classes that help me so much physically, and refuses to make my AA meetings a priority that bolster my self esteem and self-worth, my iPhone and iPad (my key communication devices) are derisively referred to as toys and treated with contempt.  He began withholding sex and meaningful affection soon after diagnosis.  I have been cut adrift from any real form of physical love.  All touch that I receive is purposeful (and tinged with anger).  My massage therapy is the greatest kiñdness I receive each week.   Not sure why he continues to allow that except it is offered for free and keeps me somewhat Mobil.  He raised such a fuss each week regarding my infusions that I finally broke down emotionally and canceled all future apptmts.

I cry so many tears and get so stressed at this man's hands.  I have been suicidal 3 times as a result of his continued "care".  I can handle the terminal illness, I just cannot take the alienation of affection and the subtle and overt abuse dished out by the one who was supposed to love me in sickness and in health...until death do us part.

What can I do?


Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Lashing Out

Fed up. Sick of hearing, "I'm sorry."  Apologies don't erase the pain you inflict on me. You pull my pubic hair. Your nitrile gloves pull the hair from my head. Not once in a while but day in and day out. You turn me in a manner that suits you rather than in a manner that doesn't stress my body. Why won't you use the pad and sheet to turn me as one unit? Instead, you allow my body to twist as you hold me one-handed. How good you are at your job. What part of "my muscles are dying" don't you understand?
Post a Comment
Read more

Managed

Managed care, do not get me started. It is the bane of my existence and my savior. If quadriplegia has curtailed my activities, and it has, then being in a home has curtailed even more. I've had to dumb it down and set my standards low. Gone, are the halcyon days of getting in my wheelchair to go for a stroll or sit in the sun, or even sit in the sun room. Neither the nurses, nor patient care technicians, know how to put me in my wheelchair. Seriously. My chair has head controls and it is a bafflement. Most caregivers don't even realize I have head controls. First, they hit the left head pad when they lift the armrest which turns the chair on. Next, they sling me over and place me in the chair. The problem? My head, naturally, rests on the headrest, which accelerates and drives the chair and is beyond my control. Running over a caregiver or running myself into an obstruction are very real consequences of their ignorance. What could be worse? The caregivers remain clueless abo...
Post a Comment
Read more

Shards Cling To

I just met my new psychologist and I already like her. I would say that it is effortless to talk to her, but talking to anyone through an augmentative and alternative communication (AAC) device takes a great deal of effort. One must think about what to say and drill it down concisely and succinctly, Then attempt to type it out with your eyes on a wonderous, but infuriating machine, and hope you nail the 'Speak' button, and not the 'Cancel' button. You're praying that the device doesn't spontaneously, disengage the eye gaze, leaving you mute and helpless. You're also praying that the calibration holds and your eyes don't tire or dry out. Aside from all of that, she did not overwhelm me with rapid fire questions, nor invade my personal space, by insisting on reading while I'm writing, instead of allowing me to "speak". Those things are huge. Counseling somebody with my disabilities, present unique challenges. I have major physical deficit...
Post a Comment
Read more