I am so sorry about your awful night. I won't try to tell you "I know how you feel" because I know each person's pain is individual; however, when I read your last post, it took me back to so many nights with my husband over the years. You described it so exactly and plainly...I felt like I could have written that. You even use the same word---"meltdown"---that my husband and I use.
I know it's frustrating: when a meltdown happens, it seems that there is no way to "make" your loved one see himself as the wonderful person
you see when
you look at him. Sometimes I think PTSD "acts" like a possessive abusive person: PTSD tells my husband lies about himself ("You're worthless," "You're a burden," etc.). Then the PTSD emotionally isolates him to prevent
me from countering those negative lies with the truth ("You're important to me," "I want to be with you," etc.).
The post ArcticBoy wrote after talking to his wife reflects my experience in dealing with PTSD. Sometimes, when it's a really awful night, I just have to hang on for dear life and ride it out. It helps to be understanding toward yourself. Even if we're trying to be that stabilizing rock for our loved one, it certainly doesn't mean we're going to
feel stable or rock-like. It doesn't mean we're not going to be crying. Sometimes all you can do is be there. We want so much to help. It would be
easier if we could help. It takes an incredible amount of strength to be there with and for someone you love when you
can't "fix it" or make it better. No wonder it's so exhausting a lot of times.
My thoughts and prayers are with you...I'm always glad to listen. Please take care as you are able.
Love,
Ace Ventura