My motivation for change is the certainty of love, is my faith in it. Perhaps it is blind faith, and it definitely flies in the face of a lot of realities – feelings of abandonment, my wife cheating on me, the lies that people tell – but it is my faith. My unwillingness to give it up, this faith, it is unconditional love. It is love-drunk-stupid, but it is unconditional love. It is the beautiful thing in this world in which I believe without sense or sensibility, without pride or prejudice, without fail.
The ironic thing is that the person who showed me my faith, that led me down the path to unconditional and unwavering love – my wife – is the one who needs to believe in it now, give herself up to it and accept its warmth and bathe in its flaws. Because while I will never get unconditional love from my job or the other things that have hurt me over the last year, the things that have compounded this mental illness and have added layers and degrees of complexity, she can love me unconditionally. She already does – love me, that is – but it isn’t an acceptance of it, a willingness to have faith in it.
I believe that she and I are it, which is why it is the greatest motivation for change that I have. It is also the reason that I would rather believe people, including my wife, haven’t been there for me in the past (or in her case, in lying to me today) because I am not worth it and there is something inherently worthless about me, and not because they don’t love me unconditionally. It is a cold place right now because of that conundrum. And if this recovery depends on me holding people’s hands, using my support system, looking up at the beauty of my flawed house, what happens when I don’t feel those hands?