My husband hates my blog.

This blog has been sitting in my draft box since January.  Just the title, nothing else.  It was one of those thoughts going around and around my head.  When I first started this writing the blog I didn't tell many people, a few friends here and there.  Then a few old friends, maybe a few new ones, little by little, as time went on and as I kept writing.  But I didn't I tell my husband.
By the time I finally did tell him, months later, he couldn't get past the title. He didn't 'get it,' I think he was confused.  At the same time, if he EVER referred to Owen as mentally retarded, I would FREAK OUT.  He would retort "How you have a blog with that name and get pissed at me if I even say the words!"   Both of us enmeshed in our own pain, unable to see the other point of view, in emotionally selfish places even now still, at times.  We know and have seen what each of us have endured, and you would ASSUME the shared experience would bond us, which it has.  At the same time, that shared experience is also the cause of great stress for us, that we both struggle with, and at times trigger each other when we see our own flaws reflected back....  "These kids are driving me crazy! I can't wait til the husband gets home!"  He's home, and complaining how annoying they are...But why can't HE (me) be more patient with them!  (If you hate something, don't you do it too...do it too.)  
I know, similar struggles as many parents, but magnified when one of your kids needs you more, challenges you more, it's hard for me to even explain - it's just - MORE.  More appointments, more work, completely different coping styles.   Here I am, writing a blog that more and more and more people (strangers, gulp) are reading, and I know my husband has maybe talked to a handful of people.  Ever.  When Owen was first diagnosed, and I was a wreck, my husband was a rock.  Many months, later, as I was emerging from my depressive haze, I got angry with him for his quick temper, silence, and sadness.  "But I'm BETTER" I'd think "Why does he have to be so bummed when I feel good?"   Or months later, I'd be depressed and snappy for weeks, and when I told him why, he was surprised, which shocked me.  HOW COULD YOU NOT KNOW WHAT WAS WRONG? But he didn't always, and neither do I. It's tough to truly understand what your spouse goes through, you can try to imagine but everyone struggles differently, with different issues, and in different ways.  (And let me add because I have been asked this several times - JUST BECAUSE I AM A THERAPIST DOES NOT MEAN I KNOW EVERYTHING! I am not a therapist to my family or friends.  Not just because it's unethical, but because you don't see those you love clearly.  You see them through your own lens of love and time.  So no, I can't read my husband's mind nor therapize him.) 

The divorce rate for parents of kids with special needs is (from my research) from 30 percent to as high as 80-90 percent.  UM HELLO THAT IS TERRIFYING.  That is always a good statistic to know while still struggling to even accept a permanent diagnosis, just add it to the long list of things-that-keep-me-up-at-night.  Marriage is so very, very hard, because it's a choice.  Loving our kids is biological, marrying a spouse is a decision.  And when people become unhappy in their lives, many chose the fix of a new or different partner.  Honestly, I think many times people chose escape over a long look in the mirror.  Many of us create our own unhappiness and expect others to undo it.  People who are chronic victims will never 'get better' because according to them, nothing is their responsibility.  How can you fix things if you aren't accountable? I dunno.  In most situations it takes two to tango, and even if someone treated you like crap, you entered that relationship.  Look at what you did, not what they did, because all you can change is yourself and the way you react.
So my husband hated my blog, I couldn't blame him.  Maybe not my blog, but the title.  I was a little hurt, but accepted complicated emotions and understood our differences.  It wasn't that he ever said anything bad about it, he just said nothing. But that's also part of life.  You can't spend life talking about what's wrong, you just have to live.
So lately, with my blog "blowing up" as the kids say (in 2008), we've been talking about 'it' more.  This weekend I mentioned I had posted a few new blogs and he said he hadn't checked it in about a month.  Then he admitted "It's hard to read it.  It's about our life, and it always makes me cry."  Ah.  Then he said "And I just want you to know, I'm really, really proud of you."
Thanks honey.  That's all I ever really want.