There are certain things that I don't usually write about much. There are all sorts of reasons, one main one is that I appreciate the respect that folks show by not sharing my information with others without my permission. I would like to think that I extend this same courtesy to others. If it is his story to tell, his information to share; then let him do so. That's the general idea.
But I've come to realize that seldom is a story entirely your own. Other people play roles in even the most solitary of stories. Or maybe that is the justification that I need to tell myself so that I feel less awkward about sharing something that is predominately my guy's (and not mine) to share.
It is mine too, though. Because so many things about one you love do affect you, are your concern; their stories and yours become interwoven. Just as my own complex set of idiosyncrasies and conditions affect my guy, so too do his own struggles affect me. Our relationship demands much from us both, just as we both benefit so very much from each other.
All that is a very long intro (and feels exaggerated~like I am creating a mountain from an anthill of coffee grounds; altho I know that I haven't misrepresented anything) for what I'd like to share now. More often than not, I do not know how to be supportive and loving and accepting (and all those other qualities that I just know I am capable of feeling and demonstrating) of the man I do love and want to love completely. My guy has taught me, encouraged me, supported me, loved me in the very ways of being human, a good loving person; and he's done this the very best way possible, through example.
My guy struggles every day, every moment with his own set of complex conditions that affect his self esteem, his sense of self-worth, his feelings of inadequacy, and so much more. His own depression taints his every thought, dousing doubt over everything. He also has an inattentive subtype of ADHD. Yet he is the most loving, most encouraging, most supportive partner any one could want. He is absolutely wonderful with me, for me, to me; never browbeats me, or makes me feel stupid, or berates me when I am so very less than wonderful (wink) myself. But he is the most self-loathing man I've ever known, while being the best man I've ever known.
It shames me that I do not extend the same assurances and patience to him that he does to me. Please do not rush to reassure me; I know that no one is a saint, and I do not expect that of myself. What I do want of myself, is that I not snap at him impatiently when he so obviously does not deserve my caustic snipes. I wish I knew how to respond to his self-loathing. I wish I knew how to be supportive when my capacities are tried.
How do I demonstrate my love for him, when he hates himself?