I have prayed that God would use this blog and the words in it to encourage others who are walking in shoes similar to mine. The problem is, I have no encouraging words right now.
I broke down last night, the sobbing, snotting, hiccuping kind of break down…you know, the pretty kind. The burden of silence with this disease was too heavy, and I could not handle it another second. My sweet husband came to the rescue as much as he could-said he would call our pastor, tucked me in to bed, and ever the Braveheart, encouraged me to “hang in there.” Every ounce of strength he had was used to bolster me up.
Which made him spiral into The Hole today. And it is my fault. I know this because he told me so. I am so not good at being supportive of him when he is not well. I can hold it together for only so long before I become a scared mess. It’s like a sick form of super power. Not only can I not fix it, I can make it worse.
It doesn’t seem to matter how hard I pray through the pain, pray against the cynicism, fear, and lies that attack us both, pray for healing. Eventually, fear and emotional exhaustion catch up with me at the. worst. time. And it just makes him more sick.
The amount of self-loathing that comes with this is fairly impressive. I need no condemnation, because I’ve got that covered.