sanity escapes me

I am a really nice person…most of the time. I’m a well-intended person…usually. I’m the person who, nine times out of ten, goes out of my way to help someone, show support by being there for them in any way I can, make them laugh; I infuse whatever resources and or wisdom in my arsenal to make a situation better.

Although it isn’t a colossal component of my character, I do have the slightest capacity to genuinely be a “woogie, woogie woo” Miss Mary Freaking Sunshine (*gasp*) for the very rare moments in my life that warrant it and for the even rarer people in my life who are truly worthy.

My husband is not one of these people. At least, not anymore.

For years now we’ve been on this rollercoaster of insanity. I won’t get too much into the details. I’ll just leave it as the situation isn't good and hindsight being 20/20 I should have never married him. He and I make great friends but not such great married people. Those very few of you who actually know me personally are reading this going, “Um…DUH!”

Yah, I know. I’m intelligent but often lacking in common sense, particularly when it comes to love. In my defense, I knew what I was doing eight years ago when I married him. Oh yes, I was fully aware of why I was doing it. I had my reasons, albeit all the wrong ones. Suffice it to say, I’m currently in the process of “rectifying” things. Very soon I’ll be able to breathe easier.

The only reason why I’m sharing this piece of my life is to offer some insight into why, despite my benevolent nature, I get to a point with certain people, i.e. my husband, where I no longer give a damn at all. There is no anger or bitterness, at least on my part, so I do not see this as synonymous with hurting the person. Rather, I view it more as total and utter indifference – an emotional void, if you will, where I no longer allow myself to feel anything.

So when my husband, while doing some heavy lifting in the garden yesterday, suffered a rather vicious injury to his right eye I had a really difficult time caring. Yes, I am that emotionally guarded with him. Here he was in excruciating pain and I offered little more than, “Are you bleeding? Do I need to take you to the emergency room?” He declined, of course. So I shrugged it off and went about my day, caring for my children and getting stuff done around the house – things I do daily with little or no assistance from him.

We pretty much exist in our respective parts of our house. We’ve worked out an agreement: I don’t bother him and he doesn’t bother me. So, aside from bringing him dinner and collecting his empty plate, I didn’t once make the effort to check in on him to see how he was doing. I just figured he would let me know if he needed anything.

Then, somewhere around eleven o’clock at night, I heard my husband calling for me. I came downstairs to find him rolling around on the floor, clutching at his eye. Upon examining his eye, I discovered it had swollen up to the size of a golf ball. Obviously he was far from doing well. “I need you to take me to the emergency room. Now.” I (still impassive, mind you) immediately hunkered down into “logical mode”. Focused and grimacing, I systematically proceeded to go upstairs, collect my sleeping children, pack them and my cantankerous husband into the car and head to the emergency room…where we remained for almost four hours.

I, of course, am running on zero sleep. The remainder of my night and early morning were spent tending to my husband. I brought warm compresses, cold drinks, administered goopy eye ointment and pain medication, and essentially sat at the beck and call to the very person who has, not only been the direct source of so much of my pain, but who would never - has ever - cared for me in that way. The whole experience has told me a lot about myself.

Outwardly I choose to be indifferent, not a jerk. Kind of a like a nurse in a hospital, I'm very caring in the clinical sense. I tend to his medical needs, not emotional ones. My mom used to tell me that "everything comes out in the wash." Ultimately, balance will be achieved. I think what I fear most is the process and the unknown.