In Part One of this blog piece, I mentioned a number of things that Elizabeth does that have had the effect of driving me crazy. The first two years of the marriage were so bad that they often felt like a barefoot walk through hell in gasoline-soaked pajamas. Not always, but enough of the time that when she was unleashing her OCDism on me, it was really hard. To add to my internal conflict, she entirely stopped being physically affectionate towards me. The kisses, the huggies, and all the other physical things she did to snare me – *poof!* – gone!

And yet, for some reason, I decided to stick around. Why?

I can’t give you all the reasons, because some of them are probably locked away deep in my psyche where I myself can’t see them, but at the end of this piece I will share with you what I see as positives.

When Elizabeth and I would get into fights, usually started with her insulting me or annoying the sheer hell out of me in ways that she had hidden when we were dating. I would wind up going to Confession. Fr. Barkett’s advice to me, before the final Act of Contrition, was that perhaps Elizabeth was being used by God in this painful situation as part of my salvation. I would think on his words, and those verses in the Bible where Jesus said to love our enemies and do good to those who despitefully use us, and it made sense to me. To be that person – the one who loves unconditionally  those who are enemies or hard to live with – was a challenge to live the faith. As a matter of a fact, it is probably one of the most ignored of our Lord’s teachings, looking at the way professing Christians have acted over the centuries. It’s one thing to read those commands in Matthew’s Gospel and say, “How lovely. What a great teaching.” It’s altogether different when Christ says, “Uh huh. Well, let’s see how you react when you are thrown in the middle of having to do it!” Situations like this prove to a person what is inside him. The Lord allows them to happen in order that we A.) might know ourselves better and B.) turn to Him in trust for all our needs as we go through the fire.

Moreover, there was the knowledge that as Jesus had forgiven me for a  a tremendous load of sins, I also should be willing to forgive Elizabeth and to seek her good. I saw this as a challenge to me to grow spiritually, to be like Christ (which is the goal of the Christian life) in loving someone who is being at the moment distinctly unlovable. Did He not ask forgiveness for the very men who drove the spikes through His hands? I also, out of a deep respect for the Sacraments which Christ left the Church, did not want to spit on the Sacrament of Marriage by going for a divorce. So I made up my mind.  I would bow down my head, tough it out, and withstand the storm as best I could. Quitting was simply not in the picture for me.

I had also come to recognize something that our society doesn’t – that love is not about emotions or about “me.” It is about doing good for someone else, often at great expense to yourself. For our Lord, the great expense was His passion and death. The Gospel calls us to die to ourselves in order to serve others in love. Jesus washed the feet of the very men His hand had created to show true servanthood. I had come to recognize this and saw in my situation a real chance to do this, despite my circumstances.

During the time we were dating, I was attending seminary in hopes of being ordained as a deacon in the church. This never came to be. But the challenge I received from one of my fellow seminarians still rings in my ears – “Ed, you can serve without being ordained.” I saw Elizabeth as someone needing to be served in love. The behaviors she exhibits – OCD, complaining about everything, perfectionism, etc. – are all cries for help from someone who has been emotionally damaged. Someone who needs to be loved unconditionally – barbs and all.

Those are the positive reasons. I think there were also some negative reasons which I should honestly admit. I didn’t want to be alone. After two years of having no success or interest at the Catholic dating sites I had been on, I was probably afraid that it was either this very damaged and fragile relationship or nothing. And I didn’t want all the trouble of divorce papers, ugly court days, finding a place to live and moving my stuff there. In short, some days when she was being off-kilter, it still looked better for me to stay put than to go elsewhere. And as I told a friend, her episodes only represented about ten percent of our time together. The rest of our life had become stalled in neutral, neither positive nor negative, but just there, existing. Which is tolerable, but really kind of sad.

In August of this year we will have been married for nine years. I have continued to try to serve Elizabeth as best I can. Unfortunately, she has become very ill physically and is bed-bound for much of the day.  Her medications for high blood pressure cause her to be very tired and she sleeps a lot. She is weak when she is up and about.

What is my assessment of this all? I have learned how to deal with her emotional roller coaster. I simply let her rant and get it off her chest, then walk away, knowing that when she cools down, we will be able to talk. I have learned that her nagging at me isn’t a personal attack and I shouldn’t take it as such. I have also learned to kindly but firmly stand up to her when called for, such as when I have to travel to take care of a customer. I have learned to draw certain boundaries, which is good, because I have had a habit in my life of letting people walk all over me.

I can trace changes in our relationship back to a day about two years ago when Elizabeth was ragging on me real good and for about the twenty-fifth time said, “I think you ought to pack your stuff and leave.” I simply said, “Fine. If you want a divorce, I will give you one.” I said it firmly and without anger, a fact that said to her, “Okay, if this is what you want, you shall have it.” I don’t think she expected me to call her bluff when she indignantly said we should separate. I believe she heard in my voice that this was it for me. Since that day I have seen small but important changes in her. She is still very OCD about germs and dirt, but many of the other nagging habits have tapered off. She is not complaining as much as she used to, and when she does once in a while get on a roll complaining, I have learned to turn to her and tell her as kindly as possible to stop. I am learning to set boundaries.

Despite the way she has treated me for so long, I was able through prayer and counseling to overcome and lose the feelings of bitterness in our relationship. I recognize that Elizabeth does what she does out of fear and emotional pain. In this, I feel sorry for her, especially when I know that if she would make an effort to work with a counselor, she would probably be a lot happier person. And I find that I do care about her, not in an erotic sense or in a sense of need, but just as a person. I have found it in my heart to do little things that make her happy, hoping some day that she will come out of her OCD shell and join the rest of the world. I want what is best for her. I want her to be happy.

But most of importantly I am doing something (most of the time and not perfectly) that I knew I needed to learn to do – loving another person in a self-sacrificing manner. Life is still difficult – for instance, I told her that I would give up softball this summer to be with her more in her illness. That doesn’t make me some kind of saint. That’s what I should do. It’s the proper and right thing to do, along with the many other ways I try to serve her which I shall not discuss here. But Elizabeth has seemed a lot more peaceful in the last year and I have noticed little changes in her in how she approaches me. The hard edge is gone and we are talking more frequently, better, and with kindness. I would like to think that my willingness to make myself a servant to her has put to rest some of the fear in her heart.

In a universe that expands into never-ending light years in God’s love, I have taken one very small step in that love.