This is not a happy, funny or light post. If you don't like the heavy stuff, come back Wednesday. I don't mind and I completely understand. I just need to vent in some form or fashion and tag, the blog is it. Today is an angry day. No, I'm not angry, I'm pissed. My husband fell this morning. Seems his MS is fucking with his balance now. This has been going on for weeks but he hasn't fallen before, he just got dizzy.
I only reacted enough to verify he hadn't been physically hurt by the fall. I say physically, because I know emotionally and psychologically, it's damaging as hell. We got him up, dusted him off and I got ready for work. Then I cried the whole way to work. Normally his MS doesn't get to me this bad, but I am really feeling it right now. If he is getting dizzy spells now, how long before he is in a wheelchair? How long before he's bed-ridden? How long before this shitty disease shuts down the part of his brain that keeps his heart beating? Or his lungs functioning? How long before I have to decide if he should be on life support or this shit disease takes that choice from me?
I work in a room with 4 other woman. All 4 of them have buried a husband. They joke that I'm not in the widow's club but here recently I get that lovely word running through my head. It's only 3 letters but it seems huge. The word is YET. And it pisses me off. I hate it. I want to scream and cry and rant at the world but there's nobody to yell at. I don't want to bury my husband at a young age. We want children but there's new studies showing MS may be hereditary. I get angry with family members who don't understand. I want them to back the fuck off without having to scream at them. I don't want to ask his mother if she wants to bury her son just to get her to stop nagging him about taking time off from work.
I hate watching him break down and weep in frustration. I hate watching him fight off depression. I hate watching him rage against everyone because there's really no one to blame. I hate that I am fascinated when he sleeps because he's so still. So quiet and peaceful. So everything he's not when he's awake. I love his laugh and I hate the fact that when I hear it I try to hold onto it and save it. My head says there will be plenty of laughs. My heart tells me I need to hold each and every single one as dear as I can so I can remember them.
My husband is so far from perfect it's scary. He's an ass, he's unforgiving, he's messy and he's selfish. I have people who can (and will) vouch for this. He's demanding, overly possessive and protective to a fault. He's also loving, gentle, playful, intelligent and funny. He puts up with all of my shit and still manages to say he loves me and mean it. He's never said "You have too much yarn." He's convinced I can do anything I set my mind to and he's always supported any life altering decisions I make. MS is threatening to take that away and I want to hurt someone responsible and there's nobody there.
It's exhausting to cry in the car and go inside and pretend your world isn't falling apart. I'm tired of being supportive all the time and not letting him see me break down. He thinks I'm strong and that I am taking it all in stride. He praises me for putting up with his mood swings and loving him enough to not leave him because of his disease. I'm not brave. I'm not strong. I'm scared and angry and hurting but it would tear him apart if he thought he was causing me pain, even inadvertently.
I'm going to get through work, drive home and then sleep. I'll wake up tomorrow and find my happy place again all will be right with the world. Until then, I'm going to knit and try not to use my needles as weapons. I'm also going to smoke (not at the same time as knitting though) and try not to use stupid people for ashtrays. It's not a great plan, but it's a plan.