Today I had a joint meeting with Jay's therapist. It was our first one and I found it so informative. He asked questions that made Jay open up about feelings I was unaware he even had. He was able to tell me he felt useless. I was blown away by this. I wish I had been able to tell him that being useful was not a prerequisite for love or that there wasn't anything he could either DO or BE that would earn him more love. Or more importantly, that there wasn't anything he could either DO or BE that could take away our love. I wish I had said that the love was free, just a perk for being one of us. But, all I could do was just sit there and say, "I wish you didn't feel that way." Now, THAT was useless!
On a more use-FULL note, the therapist was able to put something in perspective for me in a way I had not considered. A few days ago I wrote about how we have been sleeping in the living room for a couple years now. (Jay needs to be by the doors and is up constantly thru the night making sure they are locked.) Anyway, when the therapist asked me what I'd like to see happen in the future I mentioned that I would like for us to be able to move back to the bedroom. He said that if Jay had damaged his leg and found sleeping on the couch more comfortable than sleeping in the bed, I would find myself sleeping in the living room.
He was absolutely right. There is no doubt that if a physically-obvious injury prevented Jay from sleeping in our bed that I would be right on the living room floor with him. Why on earth have I been so hung up on this bed thing? Who cares where we sleep?
On a more use-FULL note, the therapist was able to put something in perspective for me in a way I had not considered. A few days ago I wrote about how we have been sleeping in the living room for a couple years now. (Jay needs to be by the doors and is up constantly thru the night making sure they are locked.) Anyway, when the therapist asked me what I'd like to see happen in the future I mentioned that I would like for us to be able to move back to the bedroom. He said that if Jay had damaged his leg and found sleeping on the couch more comfortable than sleeping in the bed, I would find myself sleeping in the living room.
He was absolutely right. There is no doubt that if a physically-obvious injury prevented Jay from sleeping in our bed that I would be right on the living room floor with him. Why on earth have I been so hung up on this bed thing? Who cares where we sleep?