BEL MOONEY: A stroke’s turned my husband into a vile monster

Dear Bel,

I am at my wits’ end and do not know how to deal with my husband since his stroke last year.

While he denies his minor physical issues are due to the stroke, the real problem lies with his personality. The stroke caused damage to the part of the brain which governs ‘executive skills’ and the ability to understand that certain behaviours are unacceptable.

It was clear he was ‘different’ after the stroke. I hoped things would improve but, at an awkward weekend at our son’s, my husband dominated conversation and overruled all attempts to change the subject.

My son said it’s like ‘the filters are off’. My husband also made derogatory comments about me, followed by nasty laughter. A couple of my husband’s friends suggested therapy. You can imagine how that went down.

Thought of the day 

Busy joy can never die.

Your will, your wants, your being

Are here, too close for seeing.

Energy that made you fly

Cannot be destroyed . . .

From The Silent Songs Of Owen Parsnip by Angela Patmore (2020)

 

He’s continuously nasty about my cooking — as never before. There were lots of memory lapses (bathroom fan not turned off, car left running on drive, side door to our home left wide open), and a confidential chat with one of his friends revealed that his appalling, embarrassing behaviour has been noticed by others. And I’m also subjected to a continual barrage of racist, sexist, fascist outbursts.

If I counter the remarks, I’m accused of arguing. If I say I’m simply expressing a different point of view, that lights the blue touchpaper. On one occasion he told me I should be ‘very afraid’ of what he was capable of.

This morning, I was subjected to a tirade over a triviality.

I asked why everything had to be so aggressive, why he could not speak pleasantly. I was told I was the aggressor; that he had no communication problems with anyone else — which is untrue. He then stormed off saying he’d never speak to me again.

Half an hour later, you’d think nothing had happened. I’ve spoken to my GP, who told me that, even if my husband’s own GP notices some of his personality changes, nothing can be done unless my husband agrees he needs help or accepts that his behaviour needs modifying. How can I live like this?

I don’t know how to leave him, even though I hate him and cannot stand being in his company.

SARAH  

This week Bel advises a reader who is at her wits’ end and doesn’t know how to deal with her husband since his stroke last year

This is an appalling situation, and you have all my sympathy. Mood changes are common after a stroke and, sometimes, people’s personalities can alter very much for the worse.

It could be because, deep down, they know they are impaired (even if they deny it, as many people with dementia do, too), and what they are actually expressing is rage and frustration about the after-effects of the stroke. Horrible for everybody.

To know that is no consolation when the person you are living with is vile to you and you feel that is not what you signed up for when you got married.

Yet, sometimes, it might help you a little bit if you just leave the room (always walk away from aggression), take some long deep breaths and tell yourself that when he had that stroke, an unpleasant stranger entered his body — but that the man you married is still there, too. It’s a terrible tussle between good and bad.

I’m sure you know all about the Stroke Association. It operates a helpline (0303 3033 100; for opening hours see stroke.org.uk) and has two really useful leaflets for carers, which you can download.

I would also sign up to its online community My Stroke Guide. In addition, take a look at flintrehab.com/2019/mood-swings-after-stroke for some interesting thoughts on how to cope.

The more we know about any given situation, the more readily we are able to deal with it.

Imagine it as drawing a map to show you new routes through this unknown land and, when you feel lost, assailed by hostile forces, ring the Stroke Association and tell them what’s going on. Or call the Samaritans (116 123) if you feel despair.

At present, you are enduring one of the greatest tests of any marriage and so it might be worth contacting Relate (relate.org.uk) if you really do feel that you ‘hate’ your husband and need to talk to somebody about what’s going on.

I hope you are in regular contact with your son and can share all these woes with him.

If the day dawns when you really do want to walk out of your marriage, then you will need your son’s support — and so will your husband.

It’s vital at this stage that you don’t feel alone, so please don’t hesitate to contact friends, family and strangers, so you have a good support network. 

Can I be agnostic and go to church? 

Dear Bel,

It interests me that, in your column And Finally, you have said you don’t have to be religious to attend church.

I understand that you’re suggesting it as a place to find a community, and in many towns and villages there is little other than the church or pub. But I have difficulty with both, being a non-drinker and agnostic.

I was brought up C of E in a small Essex village with a fine old flint church, in which I was a ‘server’ during communion. A great honour. But there was definitely an ‘us’ and ‘them’ feeling towards those who attended church and those who didn’t.

When I later discovered Charles Darwin, his findings on evolution by natural selection seemed such a beautiful and logical explanation for the wonderful diversity in nature. What need of other myths? On the other hand, I am a man with a small collection of Madonnas and saints! Miracles fascinate me, especially Mary appearing on a slice of toast, condensation on a window or in a tree trunk — you know the sort of thing.

A biblical reading which describes a prophet lying down on a ‘dead’ child and breathing life into its body sounds to me like a description of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. A miracle in those days, but commonplace today.

It bothers me that remembrance services are always religious in tone. And to attend church, one must at least stand and sing hymns with words that make little sense, make responses I cannot accept, and kneel with others. Not to do so appears churlish. To do so seems hypocritical.

How do you suggest one resolves this?

MO  

Well, sir, you sound like my soulmate, but don’t read that as a lonely hearts proposition!

Your letter is written by a very thoughtful man acutely aware of all the contradictions within the human spirit. Although readers may not think it fits within this column, I believe it expresses a very real dilemma — one shared by far more people than we might think.

You’re right to notice I have suggested going to a local church as one possible means of alleviating loneliness. Coffee and discussion groups often form part of a church’s ministry and can help many people. And if it doesn’t work for you? Well, try something else. But I dislike people dismissing the outreach of C of E and Methodist churches (the two I know) without knowing what they actually do.

Like you, I collect Madonnas and saints — angels, too. To me, they represent what is sublime about the Christian faith, but also those aspects of all religions which reach upwards and outwards towards the very best that flawed humans can imagine. And teach us how to behave.

All faiths state versions of the Golden Rule: ‘Do not do to others that which you would not have them do to you’ — and draw up rules of conduct to help us live. And if any religion is wickedly betrayed by those who do vile harm in the name of their God, well, that doesn’t mean all its believers can be dismissed. Show me a faith that does not harbour sinners as well as saints and I will welcome you to a true Heaven.

For many years I presented a recurring series on BBC Radio 4 called Devout Sceptics, for which I interviewed distinguished people about faith and doubt.

   

More from Bel Mooney for the Daily Mail…

One of my guests was the theoretical physicist and astrobiologist Paul Davies. You can read a transcript of our discussion in my book Devout Sceptics, but all I want you to note now is that this acclaimed scientist keeps an open mind about religion, and implied that it is enough to be ‘deeply inspired by the wonder, beauty and ingenuity of nature . . .’ and he talked about the ‘scheme of things’. Yes, to that.

Part of that scheme is surely that people like you and me go on thinking and questioning. But I have no problem with remembrance services invoking God, because it is the beautiful solemnity of the ceremony that matters most, and you take from it what you choose. You can believe in Humanism and angels. And tea and sympathy and the forgiveness of sins, too.

So here I am — an agnostic Christian who views churchgoing as good, reveres the teachings of Jesus, detests fundamentalist conviction about anything, feels the power of carved angels, and quite happily says the Creed aloud, even if I don’t really believe it to the absolute letter.

You can over-think these things, Mo — and, these days, I don’t choose to. I just enjoy the best that Christianity can offer (cathedrals, parish churches, music, art, beautiful words . . . all a vital part of my heritage), as well as taking a real interest in comparative religion — or what you might call ‘other myths’. I’ve made radio programmes about them, too. It all sustains me. And if I’m ever in doubt, I add an ‘o’ to the word God and worship the Good.   

And finally…Help! I need a dose of the Fab Four

During an MRI scan (mine, for a dodgy hip), they offered music on headphones.

Magnetic resonance imaging produces detailed images of the inside of the body, and the scanner is a very noisy tube you lie inside — hence the music. I chose Sgt Pepper, as I hadn’t heard it in ages.

So there I was, immobile within the slightly claustrophobic space-age machine, after a difficult few days, feeling tired and fed-up, waiting for mature ‘concept’ Beatles . . . when blasting into the headphones came: ‘Help! I need somebody . . . Help, you know I need someone, He-el-p!’

Contact Bel 

Bel answers readers’ questions on emotional and relationship problems each week.

Write to Bel Mooney, Daily Mail, 2 Derry Street, London W8 5TT, or email [email protected].

A pseudonym will be used if you wish.

Bel reads all letters but regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence.

Wrong album. But — wow! That’s just how I feel, I thought.

‘When I was younger so much younger than today, I never needed anybody’s help in anyway . . .’

Too right! I was 18 when I first played that LP on my turquoise Dansette record player — very self-assured and heading for university with a terrific ticket to ride (marriage, degree, career, kids . . .) ahead.

It was 1965. Harold Wilson was PM, Sir Winston Churchill died, Liverpool won the FA Cup, the Labour government pushed ahead with comprehensive education, the full horror of the Moors Murders terrified us all, the death penalty ended and The Beatles toured the UK for the last time.

I was wild, free and Left-wing, believed human life could be made perfect if we just tried — and thought I had all the answers. But that was Yesterday.

‘And now my life has changed in oh so many ways / My independence seems to vanish in the haze . . .’

Too right! Marooned in the MRI tube, I sang along to early Beatles tracks and wondered where the time went. ‘Age’ is the only answer to that . . .

What I do know is that these lines — ‘But every now and then I feel so insecure / I know that I just need you like I’ve never done before’ — apply as much to me as well as to you. So (all together now) . . . ‘I do appreciate you being round’.

Isn’t that the truth?  

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