Putting 2.0 Into Practice

Monday, February 13, 2023

It began with a pulsing sound within his right ear a couple months ago; he was hearing his heartbeat, but why? And when did it start? Was it the result of the stress he felt with his mother's passing? Is this a warning sign that his heart is acting up like his mother's and his brother's? He is about to go crazy having to deal with this annoying sound, all the while wondering if it is an indication of something sinister just around the bend. After hearing tests and heart tests, doctors think it is a form of tinnitus, which is reassuring. But the treatment – well, let's just say that it feels more daunting than the drumbeat of his heart in his ears.

Like many "fixes," this one has its own list of side effects. The prescription is for intense doses of prednisone for a week and then gradually decreasing doses for the following week. As a corticosteroid, this medication reduces inflammation, but it also leads to irritability, which is where my triggers come into play as I react to what I see in Mark. On a typical day, Mark's anxiety runs at a level higher than most. His childhood was rough; he has what is known as a high level of Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) that often lead to lowered resiliency, difficulty with stress management, and many times an increase in one's susceptibility to addiction. If one of us were securely attached, these little hiccups wouldn't be so daunting. But our relationship does not (yet) consistently offer the protective factors we each need. Any assertions of angst he demonstrates are often met with resentment on my part; I tend to take those emotional expressions personally. It is indeed something that I need to work on; when I see his impatience, I can't suppress my own feelings that tell me I have done something wrong. It is purely reactionary, akin to the type of recoil I would have if I were to rest my hand on a hot stove. Since we have previously experienced how taking this medication impacts our relational "dance," we are fearful of following the doctor's protocol.

And yet, we are encouraged to see this two-week period as a chance to practice the new-found skills we have; it's time for me to put Ramona 2.0 into play to see if she works.

With some intentionality, we can not only weather this storm but use the time as a training ground to build stronger relational muscles. He came to me honestly, allowing himself to be vulnerable. He is worried how this medication might send us into that dance that we so easily default to: one of us gets triggered, so I try to pull away to protect myself and he is left feeling abandoned. We have both worked so hard to take responsibility for our own "stuff." And still, as I respond from my own place of vulnerability, I am aware that one microexpression of disgust or anger or contempt on my part (as a reaction to any irritability he may express with these steroids surging through his body) may trigger his fear of being dismissed, which further causes me to pull away, and we find ourselves in the midst of the dance. Can I draw from what I know more than from what I feel? Can I tame the barking dog in my mind that warns me of danger where none really exists? Can I find my worth from what I know God thinks of me instead of putting my trust in these emotions that lead me to believe my greatest fear has been affirmed: that I'm really not good enough? The weight of this assessment – this TEST – is heavy for both of us. What if I fail when he needs me most? What if Ramona 2.0 is still too much of a work in progress?

Yet, we must move forward; I must see how much my newfound understanding is permeating my thoughts and actions. Even with such an important testing ground – the significant and susceptible ground of my husband's heart – I must be put to the test. I cried as I discussed my fears with him. I'm afraid that one of those microexpressions will escape and he'll see it before I – the Avoidant who is learning to slow down and capture thoughts and emotions – can process it and put it in its rightful place. What if I fail? What if I succeed but not in time? What if I let him down? What if I do more damage and cause him to think my contempt has returned? What if my being triggered triggers him and I can't stop the downward spiral that will inevitably come as we continue to trigger each other? We could lose all the ground we've covered in the past three years. What if I am not strong enough?

And there it is again: NOT ENOUGH continues to rear its ugly head.  

BUT... we could also succeed. These two weeks will provide a good measure of how well we wield the tools we've been playing with. If I can manage my reactions even in the midst of my triggered states, if I can move toward him instead of away from him, if I can give him the security that we both long for, if I can be Jesus to him, maybe we'll be able to catapult our way to the next level of security within our relationship – security that is able to flourish once we put fear to rest. We are encouraged many times in the Bible not to yield to fear (2 Timothy 1:7; I John 4:18 just to list a couple) because it keeps us from giving and experiencing love. I want Mark to feel my love, not just see it on a card or hear my expressions of it. I want both of us to practice trusting – trusting each other and trusting God. I can't continue living my life in fear because it feeds Not Enough, and Not Enough has got to go. With that in mind, we spent time in prayer asking God to bring about His good work that is already within us. It's time to replace our fear with trust. Bring on the prednisone.