Dearest Jean,
Why am I writing this when your ability to read, speak or understand language has entirely gone?
The answer is I need to write it because I am alone and can say what I need to say in a considered manner without regarding any feedback from immediate listeners who I may bore rigid.
Our relationship, approaching our 41st Wedding Anniversary, is collapsing. Yes, love, I know it is not your fault. Please bear with me for a while.
Over the last few weeks, since Christmas really, it has become plain to me that you are not happy living here. The demons you have in your head are taking over in a big way.
I have lost count of the hours you sit on the bottom step of the stairs, rocking backwards and forwards, weeping uncontrollably and disregarding prolonged efforts to calm and comfort you.
It would be churlish of me to make a list of your doings because it would sound like I am ganging up on you and that I have nothing better to do than follow you round picking faults.
However, I must say that I am very very concerned about the recent development which involves hitting yourself in an attempt to rid yourself of the whatever hallucinations you are having and, about which, you have no language to express.
No, listen for just a little while longer, please. This is about you and not about me.
You don't know me anymore. I am a face from which you cower when I shout. A face that makes you laugh less and less.
Just a face that watches over you in the darkness of the night to make sure that you are safe and comfortable. A face that you tell to "go home" 100 times a day and yes, a face that breaks down and sobs when it can't help anymore.
I want you to be happy, comfortable, safe and loved. I can do the last one but I am no longer sure that I can do the first two anymore.
No, love, it's not just me I'm thinking of. Yes, I know it sounds like it but just consider the frustration I have when nothing works and I can see you slipping away with real venom in your eyes as you struggle with your disease.
In your struggle, I have been an innocent party, as you have. You did not ask to be this way. Neither did I. Together we have fought long and hard. Perhaps too long, I don't know.
Why am I writing this when your ability to read, speak or understand language has entirely gone?
The answer is I need to write it because I am alone and can say what I need to say in a considered manner without regarding any feedback from immediate listeners who I may bore rigid.
Our relationship, approaching our 41st Wedding Anniversary, is collapsing. Yes, love, I know it is not your fault. Please bear with me for a while.
Over the last few weeks, since Christmas really, it has become plain to me that you are not happy living here. The demons you have in your head are taking over in a big way.
I have lost count of the hours you sit on the bottom step of the stairs, rocking backwards and forwards, weeping uncontrollably and disregarding prolonged efforts to calm and comfort you.
It would be churlish of me to make a list of your doings because it would sound like I am ganging up on you and that I have nothing better to do than follow you round picking faults.
However, I must say that I am very very concerned about the recent development which involves hitting yourself in an attempt to rid yourself of the whatever hallucinations you are having and, about which, you have no language to express.
No, listen for just a little while longer, please. This is about you and not about me.
You don't know me anymore. I am a face from which you cower when I shout. A face that makes you laugh less and less.
Just a face that watches over you in the darkness of the night to make sure that you are safe and comfortable. A face that you tell to "go home" 100 times a day and yes, a face that breaks down and sobs when it can't help anymore.
I want you to be happy, comfortable, safe and loved. I can do the last one but I am no longer sure that I can do the first two anymore.
No, love, it's not just me I'm thinking of. Yes, I know it sounds like it but just consider the frustration I have when nothing works and I can see you slipping away with real venom in your eyes as you struggle with your disease.
In your struggle, I have been an innocent party, as you have. You did not ask to be this way. Neither did I. Together we have fought long and hard. Perhaps too long, I don't know.