A story of marital commitment in spite of overwhelming odds.
It is not romance which holds this marriage together but an ever growing commitment. It has survived the disaster which would have destroyed most marriages.
Sudden Disaster
Life ceased to exist for me in one instant. A drunken driver drew a line under everything to which I had aspired, everything that I had lived for. I had never lacked for friends in my life. I had never lacked for love in my marriage. In that fateful instant, I was cut off from communication with friends and family. My continuous honeymoon with Ernie came to a screeching halt. Every muscle in my body ached and I could not stand to be touched by anyone. Every fibre of my emotions cried out in pain, but no one, including myself, knew where the pain came from. I only knew that I could no longer communicate with people. And ease of communication had always been my strongest personal asset.
Isolation
How does a marriage survive when one partner is unable to communicate? When that partner is unable to give of herself, unable to carry on any of the duties which are expected in any relationship. When that partner is unable to share of herself or to encourage her mate?
Many times, I considered that my husband would be much better off without me, that he would be able to go on with his life. I was holding him back. I was convinced that my life was over, because there was nothing more for me to live for.
Commitment
What held this marriage together over the 16 years when my other friends and even my sibling deserted me? Ernie and I did not have romantic illusions when we got married. We did not get swept away in a rush of erotic infatuation. Our love grew slowly but steadily and resulted in an ever deepening commitment to one another. It is this commitment which has kept this marriage together.
My Diagnosis
My condition was eventually diagnosed as posttraumatic stress disorder, a condition which can only be cured if it is diagnosed immediately after its sudden onset. The only effective treatment encourages the patient to talk freely about that sudden event without offering advice. That gives the patient a chance to sort things out in her own mind. That treatment, however, was not offered to me, it was not even a possibility. How could I talk about an event which my mind had blanked out, because it was too painful to remember? Even now, I only know about the first few years after the accident by reading the doctors' reports and the notes which I was forced to compile for them. Otherwise my memory is a blank.
My Husband, My Constant
The only constant in my life was the love of my husband and his commitment to me. I certainly felt the same commitment to him. At times, thoughts of ending the agony crossed my mind, but I never allowed them to get a footing in my imagination. If I ended my life, suspicions would immediately have fallen on my husband. Isn't that what happens? 
As soon as someone commits suicide, the spouse is suspected of mistreatment. I could not bear the thought of my loving husband being accused like that. So that was it. No suicide for me. Death would have to come to me naturally.
This husband of mine used every trick in the book to make me indispensible to prevent me from drifting into the stupor of uselessness. He knew that I had to feel needed, to have a purpose in life. He made sure that a purpose was always at hand. At one time, he had me looking after hundreds of aquarium fishes just so that I would have some creatures who depended on me. Some days I would just as soon not have faced life at all, but there were all these fishes who would have died without me, because Ernie was certainly not going to do anything for them.
What holds this marriage together?
No, it is not romantic love which holds this marriage together, but rather the steadfastness of our ever-growing commitment to one another.
