That's What Love Is For

As part of multiple support groups, I see many different takes on what we all go through. Most of the time, when people post in these groups it is because they are in a state of intense emotion. Depending upon the circumstances, this emotion can range from anger to desperation to hope but rarely does anyone come in with the emotion of happiness. This is not to say that we are not ever happy, but when we are, we don't tend to reach for the support so it doesn't get much acknowledgement.

I feel like our happy looks a little different than some may think. Our happy looks a little cautious. On some levels we may recognize it more quickly as we spend so much time wrapped in other emotions. We may try to downplay it cautiously so as not to jinx it. For us it holds the reminder of the why. Why we hold on, why we overlook, why we fight for our loved one when others want to ignore or give up. Our happy often looks like a calm state of "normal".

The reality is that we are rarely looking for elation. That feels dangerous and too much. I know for me, my happy is in the ability to be content in the here and now. I am happy when I am not having to look over my shoulder, explain my very everyday actions, defend the ones I love, rush out of the bathroom at the sound of voices raising, run an errand where I am accompanied just to keep people apart to keep the peace. To some, this may not sound anything like happy, but for me it is Heaven.

This is not to say that when I am involved in family activities, a volleyball game, pickleball game, a bonfire, I do not experience a sense of more energetic happiness but only when my husband is occupied in an activity of his own. I used to love sharing these activities with him so much. He truly used to love the more active times of socializing. Moreso, he was often at his best when he was the center of attention. Anyone who knew him back then could see the joy he would display as he amped up the room. We were never at a shortage for people to spend time with, until one day we looked around and realized we were. There were one too many drunken displays. One too many happy times gone dreadfully wrong.

It is sad that he cannot even handle evenings like we used to share regularly. What used to bring him joy now is accompanied by anxiety and often an inability to participate or an explosion. And because of what it took to get there, the anxiousness would fill me as well. It was a few years before I processed how to handle it all. For a time, I used to push him not just to participate, but I would make him feel bad for not wanting to. This often resulted in disaster, maybe not always in the moment but it would trigger his emotions and jump us on the roller coaster again. The next step was that we would go to activities or events together and I would leave when he couldn't tolerate it any longer. While I think this was the most comfortable for him, I and our friends and family quickly became resentful that I would have to miss out. So, this is where the true love comes in. We both want the other to be happy. To know joy and contentment and recognize the gift that they are. Our younger days were filled with being social and we have slowly accepted that we grew older, and we now have different social needs and abilities. I do not push him to participate in family functions and when he does, we drive separately so the pressure of staying too long or leaving too early is no longer there for either of us. I truly understand that he wishes that he could do more of what we used to do, and I love him for trying so hard. I accept having to do more alone than I foresaw in my younger years, but I know it is for the best for both of us. He can still be social in the right arenas and gets his cup filled there. I no longer feel jealous, like I lost a competition of sorts because he cannot do the social things with me. We are accepting of what we are each able to handle and want the joy for the other. So again, our happy looks different. It is here but it did not come easy. That is what love is for.