Husband-Wife Communication

The simple answer is yes, my marriage changed profoundly, and for the better: but (you knew that was coming!) there was a huge price to pay. It is no joke when I say that "only the first 25 years were hard." We had a great marriage, forged in the fires of affliction, courtesy of two bouts with cancer, two unrelated hospitalizations for depression, and all of the struggle and strife necessary to prevail. One recurring theme was the spastic nature of our intimate life, which sprang from his history of emotional neglect, and my history of abuse, which we periodically addressed privately and therapeutically, with uneven success.
We faced my second bout with breast cancer with steely determination, expecting to emerge stronger for it in a few weeks, just like the first time 13 year prior. We DID emerge stronger, but not in weeks! The eruption of PTSD, triggered by the tearing of my flesh during reconstructive surgery, hurled us onto a turbulent unknown. Initially we had a surprisingly joyous reunion, completely free of the anxiety and dread that had haunted our bedroom. My delight in my newly girlish figure more than compensated for the loss of physical pleasure.
Unfortunately, with time and familiarity, old patterns returned and we resumed our miserable pas de deus, only now it was more angry and desperate.
That was four years ago, and since then we have recommitted ourselves to the hard work of facing our fears, forgiving wrongs, and opening up to each other more radically than ever. This has created a sacred space for us to discover each other anew.
That is a long answer, which I am happy to expand if you want more details.
My life is an open book!

The simple answer is yes, my marriage changed profoundly, and for the better: but (you knew that was coming!) there was a huge price to pay. It is no joke when I say that "only the first 25 years were hard." We had a great marriage, forged in the fires of affliction, courtesy of two bouts with cancer, two unrelated hospitalizations for depression, and all of the struggle and strife necessary to prevail. One recurring theme was the spastic nature of our intimate life, which sprang from his history of emotional neglect, and my history of abuse, which we periodically addressed privately and therapeutically, with uneven success.
We faced my second bout with breast cancer with steely determination, expecting to emerge stronger for it in a few weeks, just like the first time 13 year prior. We DID emerge stronger, but not in weeks! The eruption of PTSD, triggered by the tearing of my flesh during reconstructive surgery, hurled us onto a turbulent unknown. Initially we had a surprisingly joyous reunion, completely free of the anxiety and dread that had haunted our bedroom. My delight in my newly girlish figure more than compensated for the loss of physical pleasure.
Unfortunately, with time and familiarity, old patterns returned and we resumed our miserable pas de deus, only now it was more angry and desperate.
That was four years ago, and since then we have recommitted ourselves to the hard work of facing our fears, forgiving wrongs, and opening up to each other more radically than ever. This has created a sacred space for us to discover each other anew.
That is a long answer, which I am happy to expand if you want more details.
My life is an open book!