My Focal Points for Saving my Marriage
My wife should leave me. She should kick me out. It would be best if she loaded up the kids and drove off without looking back.
It’s not what I want, though, and there are ways to avoid that eventuality.
Many people in situations like mine can look at their spouse and see what I see. Many others have seen the results of a struggle that went on just a bit too long. It doesn’t matter what the who or why is, mental illness is hard on a marriage.
Divorce statistics are depressing.
It doesn’t matter if mental illness is a factor or not. There are a lot of different things that can stack up against a relationship, but one study sited that mental illness increases the rate of divorce by 20 to 80%.
With divorce rates being what they are, the idea that you’re more likely to become a part of that statistic can be terrifying. It is especially disheartening because it, unlike many of the other modifiers, is not something chosen.
Mental illness creates a severe drain on relationships.
Living with a mental illness is an immense challenge. Anyone that has one can readily agree to that. One thing that we do not think of, and maybe even avoid, is the strain it places on our loved ones.
Not only do they witness our pain, but they have to whether parts of our disorder and pick up the slack on things we can’t handle.
It’s perfectly understandable why we would want to avoid those thoughts. It’s hard enough to manage what’s going on inside of our minds. The idea of adding on the woes we cause for another to what we’re feeling would seem only to make things worse.
I never considered what my mental illness was doing to my wife. I knew she was changing as the months and years went by, but I couldn’t stand to imagine that I was a part of those changes.
I buried my head because I didn’t know what I could do differently.
I see the ways I changed her.
I can’t speak in generalities of how mental illness affects loved ones. I can find no studies. I will admit it pains me. I had hoped that I could find evidence of others that have been affected as my wife has been. I can’t imagine the situation is unique, though.
When my wife and I were dating and newly married, she was a vibrant person who loved to have fun. We spent many nights cuddled up watching T.V. and all of the other things a new couple does. Love came without effort and flowed in all directions.
She would hold me when my depressive episodes and symptoms of PTSD took me. There was no question about weathering the storm as mania flowed through my limbs. When paranoia and trust issues took me, she did everything she could to reassure me.
As time passed, and my conditions continued to ravage me, she became less and less able to support me. My suicidal thoughts scared her, and after years of fear for me, it hurt her too much to hear of them. The trust issues continued to past the point of angering her.
Year by year, she slowly withdrew from me. I didn’t see it as a symptom of my disorders, though. I saw it as some failing in her. I forced marriage counseling on her twice, and couldn’t understand why she wasn’t more involved in it.
I finally saw the light.
Six months ago, I finally realized why my marriage was unhealthy. I saw the ways that I was at fault, and I knew that I could not handle the loss of us. If things were to continue the way they were, I knew I would need to prepare myself for the end.
I didn’t want that, though.
I have never loved anyone like I love my wife. No one has ever supported me as my wife has. I couldn’t make her change, and I knew she shouldn’t have to. I knew that, despite my struggles, there were things that I could do to give her support in return.
“If He Only Knew” by Dr. Gary Smalley.
I read this book and found myself presented with the ways that I was making mistakes. The most eye-opening thing?
A great many of them were utterly unrelated to my mental illness. There were so many little things I was leaving undone and so many others I was leaving unsaid.
I had never followed or even read a self-help book before. I didn’t feel I had a choice on this one, though. I didn’t want to become a statistic, and it was laying out both what I was seeing and what I knew I wasn’t doing.
And so, chapter by chapter and paragraph by paragraph, I started making the changes I could make in the way I treated her.
My priorities weren’t correctly aligned.
As I followed the book, I found that the essential starting point was putting her first. That doesn’t mean that I did everything she wanted, but rather that I made an effort to chose her when the opportunity arose.
For instance, I wanted to write last night. I had psyched myself up all day for the writeup I had planned and almost counted down the hours until I would be able to write. When the moment was at hand, my wife asked if I wanted to watch a movie.
I could have said that I had other plans. I could have said that I had been waiting all day for this time to write, but I paused and considered my choice.
I walked away from my computer and settled into the couch next to her to watch a bad horror film that she picked.
I did it because she chose me at that moment.
I started listening more.
I’m not sure what your significant other is like, but mine is a bit of a silent type. My wife isn’t the one that’s going to tell me how I’m doing things wrong. There won’t be a list of my mistakes nailed to the front door when I get home.
I had to listen carefully to the passing comments and listen even harder to what she said without words. I found that, if you pay attention, you can see the things that stress out or wear down on someone close to you without a word ever being spoken.
The things I heard were so simple and evident that I felt like I should kick myself. Most of it was little things centered around helping out around the house, and none of it was difficult. I found I could make an effort through all stages of my mental health.
Romance doesn’t have to be complicated.
Once a week, I started stopping by the local grocery store on my way home from work. They have a floral section, and I would walk around it until I found something beautiful, but affordable.
I spent 10 minutes and $5 today, and there is a vase of purple flowers waiting for her behind me.
After she went to bed, I started writing notes to leave in random places for her to find them. They weren’t anything special, only a fundamental affirmation of my love for her. She wasn’t a fan of them because they were too far out of the norm.
I think it was because they brought tears to her eyes. She doesn’t like to cry.
I stopped touching her.
That sounds off, doesn’t it? Mainly because it’s a pleasant way of saying that I stopped making unwanted sexual advances. There are times and places for them, and I wasn’t following those rules.
The job of a mother comes with shockingly few reassurances.
The kids enjoyed being involved when I reminded them to tell my wife that they loved her. I urged them to thank her and tell her how much they appreciated her. Those things are incredibly sweet from ones with little voices.
They gave hugs of their own free will.
Within two weeks, she started coming back to me.
When I started putting her first, I found myself coming in at first place as well.
When I made an effort to spend time with her willingly, she made a point to be more engaging in those times.
When I started listening to her needs, she started responding to mine.
When I stopped touching her, she started embracing me again.
When the kids embraced their mother, her embrace came with more warmth.
Cause and effect is a certainty.
I was still struggling with my mental illnesses when I started this grand experiment. During it, I delved into the world of extreme trust issues and made baseless accusations. I do it far too often, and it’s our most significant stressor.
The love in my efforts showed through it all. In one of the worst moments, I still found her beside me when I usually would have found her oh so far away.
It showed me that all parts of life matter.
It is easy to focus on the significant issues in our lives and think that nothing else can exist except for around them. If you have a mental illness, it is often the big thing that can cause big problems.
Life isn’t all about the big things, though. If we can avoid getting wrapped up in those moments and pay attention to the little moments, the world opens up, and critical focal points can be found.
A life wide focus allows us to change the things we can have the power to affect even as we work on areas that don’t have immediate fixes.
The people that support us through these hard times do a lot for us. If we can find ways to give back to them, is it right do anything else?
I write this now because I failed.
I fell back into myself after a few months. My wife is still here beside me, but I can see that she’s hurting. She’ll never admit it. She’ll be there beside me until the last minute.
She shouldn’t, and doesn’t, have to, though. I don’t even have to look to her to see it. All I have to do is examine myself by looking at my actions and inactions.
Is it cause to think lowly of myself?
No. It is human nature to make mistakes, and mental illness can consume the minds of even the most resilient individuals. I don’t have to be down on myself to make the small changes needed, and neither do you.
So I ask you:
How can you support your number one supporter? How can you bring them back to life in the little moments?
I don’t get paid for endorsing the book, but it was certainly eye-opening for me.
Sources:
“If He Only Knew” by Dr. Gary Smalley.
A multinational study of mental disorders, marriage, and divorce: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4011132/
