Powerlessness

I’ve got a bit of a secret I’ve been keeping from you all.  But not anymore.

I’ve been lucky enough to have been privy to a series of private posts that my lovely wife has written over the past year.  And now she’s choosing to share them.  (At least some of them.)

She does this with not only my support but my encouragement:  because she is who she is in part because of the things she’s experienced, and I love her for who she is and think others will too.  Because she writes incredibly well about things that are often incredibly hard to communicate.  Because I think her willingness to share her story can possibly help others who have been through (or are going through) similar things.

But mostly because when she taps into herself in this way, I never fail to learn something new about her.  And for this chick, that’s a pretty cool thing.

That said, a lot of what Dys is sharing (like now) is painful beyond simple description.  And what I’ve found about myself in these situations is that it’s difficult for me to deal with the pain of my wife while powerless to do anything about it.

And believe me, I’ve tried to find things to do about it.  I’ve subconsciously altered my own behavior to compensate for horrible things that I didn’t do.  I’ve had violent fantasies of reprisal.  I’ve held her hand and told her how sorry I am that these things happened to anyone…especially her.

Ultimately, none of those things change the past.  When the past is painful and casts ripples into the present as truly traumatic events often do, that powerlessness is difficult to swallow.  But in some respects, learning that I have no ability, no responsibility, and in many ways no right to reach back and address my wife’s past has been an important lesson for me.  And one that I need to remind myself of from time to time.

Some days are easier than others, of course.