i witness him straggle in, pulling himself “up by his boot straps” because that is what he has been taught to do…saying, “i’m ok” when clearly that’s not true, but he has to say that in order to keep moving forward with the struggles he’s dealing with at home.
its not easy, i imagine, when your partner of many many years, cracks, spins, takes a mental turn incomprehensible to the “normality” of life. memory loss, sentences shortening or unfinished, unfamiliar voices, wandering, the body saying, no more, don’t take me back there again, i can’t keep pretending.
it leaves me wondering the harshness of a job that is “top secret” (our vets, narcotic agents, FBI or CIA agents, etc, etc.) and what having that job, holding/ hiding all kinds of “secrets” in order to serve a company, a government, that calls itself, yours. at what cost (mentally, physically, spiritually) do we give our lives for a job that at the time might seem “ok” or even “important”?
i’ve witnessed this time and again, indirectly or directly hearing or witnessing loved ones struggle with mental health issues either slowly arising or with a blink of an eye, a mind splintering into thousands of strands.
how does one love through it all? how does one hold her/himself in tact while supporting their loved one through the newness of being in a new “state of mind”?
tough questions with no easy answers.
the only beginning of an answer that i can think of is the importance of having friends, family, therapists, community around to help care for the immediate people involved in the struggle. but even that does not begin to address the feelings i can only imagine the hearts feel.
love, loving through it all…takes a new meaning for me as i witness/support from afar.