Archive for February, 2011

Which is not necessarily a good thing. I’ve been out of training for a week. More time to be at home and with my family.

The first couple of days were a wild catch up with life affair. Our daughter is getting married later this year. We finally went wedding dress shopping. Hand to heart; my baby. We found the perfect dress for her. Price? We won’t go there. It was more than I had thought to spend, but in the overall bridal scene, we did very well. The look on her face when she tried it on? OMG! Mama almost cried. Her dad most certainly would have.

The effects of low testosterone become more and more clear. It is nice to see him with more energy. His muscle mass is increasing as are other youthful tendencies.  So I’m complaining? Well, no, not exactly.

In November I barely was a blip on his radar. Now? I’m sorta of squirming under all of the attention. The pendulum has gone to the other high and it’s just strange. Uncomfortable for me too.

For him, this is an awakening. Things were never bad. He always loved and desired me. “Honey, I’m HOME!”

For me, it rather like being thrust into the middle of a game I don’t know if I want to play yet. Having his attention is nice, very nice. And scary as hell. Let’s remember, we’ve been here three or four times in the proceeding ten years. Each time I’ve plugged my ears, sang ‘Lalalalala’ it’s all better now. Only to be brought up short with the next episode.

A year ago December I had an epiphany. We were in the kitchen. He was ranting about something, which was clearly his fault, as if it weren’t. He was angry because I didn’t agree with him. As I stood there, I thought, ‘How many times am I going to allow myself to be standing here?’

How many times am I going to endure this behavior for the fleeting good moments we have?

To present only two issues have been addressed. His lethargy and his lack of attention for me. It would be sooo easy to take what I’ve got and call it good for as long as it lasted. It really would. Being the adult isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I’ve been hurt enough to know the folly of going there.

This new him seems manic to me. Manic never lasts over the long haul. This is a marathon, not a sprint. So I still on guard.

We haven’t addressed the money issues. Nor has he addressed his personal worth issues. Both are equally important to me where the ongoing status of the marriage is concerned. They are a sticking point, I can’t ignore.

Last night he asked if he’d mentioned lately, what good care I take of him. When I said it had been a while (I don’t recall him ever mentioning it.) He told me that I took very good care of him. To which I answered, I know. haha.

He was a little put upon by this answer. I guess he was looking for some gushing, ‘You noticed! Thank you.’ Em, yeah, no.

There a few things of which I’m sure. The level of care for my family is one of them. It is point of pride for me to know my family is well cared for and know they are loved. No, it’s not a revelation to me on any level. Sorry dude. Keep up.

So we are still on the other side of the looking glass. I still feel unsteady and uncertain in the relationship and my status in the world.  Things could go either way. And as bad as I want to stay, I won’t if this doesn’t level out into real change.

Have I mentioned lately how much I don’t want to take care of myself? I don’t want to, dammit! Throws three year old temper tantrum. Ahem, sorry about that. It annoys me to be in this position at this stage of my life. So it goes. At least I’m not crying today. That’s something, isn’t it?


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Me with nothing to do is an egregious situation. I’d so be laying tile or painting if the supplies were here. Why? It’s what I do when I’m feeling uncertain or insecure. GIVE ME SOMETHING TO DO!

The first three days of this week, I had things to do. I was a happy camper. This morning? The weather sucks, ruling out even a stroll to assess winter damage to the roses. That and they are under 18 inches of new snow. blank stare.

So I’m house bound, with nothing to do. We are not amused. Worse, I’ve got the nerves of a cornered rabbit. Things continue to improve with my husband. The testosterone  treatments seem to be helping his physical well being which in turn is making him happier. It does my heart good to see him confident and happy.

And then it threatens to break it. I’m flat out terrified. We’ve been through reprieves before, many over the last ten years. I don’t know if I’m up to another pull back. As such, I’m holding back waiting to see if there will be an all clear sign.

I know marriage is work. He and I have been doing this dance in one capacity or another for a very long time. Never as bad as the last shut down, but there were mini ones over the course of our marriage. He always apologizes, promises to stay on top of it. He’ll listen to me this next time. Em, Right.

What happens? Excuses rule his world. Any comments from me are shot down as mean spirited. Cuz, I’m such a raging bitch. Save me.

I’m trying to come off a hair trigger, relax, and it is a tall order. I knew I was hurt, the extent is becoming clear.

I’m annoyed with me for putting up with it for so long that has brought me to this place. I’m angry at him for not listening.

What if we fail again? They might well have to check me into a facility for a ‘rest’.

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A stomach bug has been running rampant through the city I live in. Nearly everyone I know has had it, or has it. No fun. I was down for the count four days last week. We do not like to be sick, at all.

I only mention this because generally, okay always, when I get sick the house falls apart and I’m left with two weeks worth of mess to clean up when I feel better. This time? There was no mess to speak of. Huh? Peers around looking for the aftermath that should be. Not even shoved in a box or the closet or both. Hmm. One could get used to this.

Our granddaughter came to visit and I didn’t cease to exist. Okay, now it’s really getting weird. Her and I had a girls day on Friday, which we do every so often. It’s always a good time for both of us. Then when we come home and she and Papa get together I’m left in the ditch. She pays attention to me, him, not so much. Friday? We both got attention.

Who is this man and what has he done with my husband? You know, the one who shattered my heart and insisted it wasn’t his fault.

Paranoia isn’t usually something I deal with. Right now, it’s on the edge of my conscience. I would love nothing more than to abandon my hurts and settle right into this new situation. I’m afeared I’d be setting myself up for a world of hurt if I do. Sad, but true. We’re defiantly moving in the right direction.

I find myself daring to hope this is the new ‘normal’. I’ve been let down more than once before. Given this is a pattern I’ve seen repeated over the course of the last ten years or so, I’m skeptical and rightly so.

My plans haven’t changed. Tomorrow is the last day of training, then I wait for a state test date to become certified. I’ll be applying for positions and acting as if I’ll be on my own within the year.

It would be so much nicer if I could trust this was a real change. A permanent, I really got I got his attention finally this time. The pain involved if it’s not is too great to relax yet.

In the mean time I’m going to enjoy this peaceful period. In this moment it’s about US, not him, and it is so nice I can’t begin to explain as words fail me.


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My training is going really well. I’m too busy to think of much else. I’m up and out of the house before he gets up and in bed shortly after he gets home, if not before. Stomach flu took me out of the game yesterday and today. Blech! Being sick sucks major rocks.

Where’s the marriage? Hell if I know. Running only works for so long. I have a week of training left, plus a couple of days to make up for the sickness. All but a couple of us got it, nothing like doing things as a class.

As things settle out in my life I’ll have to determine what’s up on the ‘us’ front. The respite has been nice. Perhaps it will continue. I’d really like for this to be resolved one way or the other.

I’m going back to bed now.

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For years, yes I said years, I’ve been prodding my husband to have his testosterone levels checked. About six months ago he told me they were checked and fine. Wing brow. I found this difficult to believe, but okay.

Turns out he didn’t have them checked. His story now is that he thought I was asking about his thyroid. blank stare. Em, right. Anyway he finally did have them checked last week and in an earth shattering news flash his T levels are about half of what they should be for a man of his age. He wanted to make this into an end of the world scenario. I, being the cold woman that I am, refused to go there.

He’s on replacement therapy and feeling better. Gee imagine. Shake my head.

As this is all unfolding (I’m sure he’s sure this was the entire problem and things should be fixed now.) I’ve been busy with training, chiropractic, dental appointments and a check in with my counselor.  Yep, I have a counselor of my very own. Perfect isn’t me. Aspiring? Yes.

Toward the end of the session I expressed concern that perhaps one of my depression medications was too high, because I’ve been feeling anxious. This particular one does that if I take too much. To which the counselor says, “I think that’s fine. We should get you on an anti-anxiety med.”

Being the smart ass that I am, I replied, “Valium is good.”

Much to my surprise she starts writing a script. My eyes get big and I sputter, “A very small dose, please.”  I know what this stuff does and I’m not willing to zone, as appealing as it sounds some days. No zoning, zombifying or otherwise numbing me. I’m on the smallest dose made, and am thinking I should half them.  A light weight? Me? For this stuff, yes.

I’m annoyed to find myself in the position to need medication for something so simple as relaxing. My counselor laid out what she saw as the cause.

My mother passed seven months ago.

The marriage has been in a flooded ditch for over a year.

Our adult children and their children lived with us for a short period. (Not their fault, just more stressful than I thought it would be.)

And I’m in intensive training for a new career.

Okay, put that way it doesn’t seem so unreasonable. I am one person. One person can only take so much. All I can say is thank the universe for good friends, without whom I would surely be in a nut ward somewhere, talking to myself and avoiding all human contact.

Instead, I’m remembering to take care of myself in the midst of everything. My woman stuff is good until June. I have three fillings which will be done by the end of the month. There are refills for my daily meds, so I won’t be running out. My chiropractic is getting my back into order after being on crutches and a boot for months. I ♡ my chiropractor.

Everything is in order for my practical training, starting tomorrow. No last minute chaos or drama in that corner. In as much I have nothing to do today except rest and take care of this cold or allergy thing that’s going on with me. A bit of quiet? Quiet is good.

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I thought I saw a ray of sun, perhaps, maybe, gasp, hope the other night. Nope, it was a train. Again.

I was studying tonight. (I got into the training I’d hoped to.) My husband perches himself on a chair next to me and intently stares in my direction. I smile, and continue to read. There’s lots of ground to cover and little time to do it, oh and I have to sleep. He doesn’t budge, nor does he say anything. pfft.

Not wanting to, but understanding if I didn’t he’d sit there for eternity, I asked him what he wanted.  He inquired after my work load, which he was interrupting. The expression on his face told me he wasn’t going anywhere, and nothing was going to get done until he had his say.

Me – Spill it. What’s going on?

Him – Can we talk?

Me – Am I going to end up crying?

Him – huh? expression. I don’t know.

‘Oh Great’ Me – What?

Here’s where he launches into how he’s not comfortable with the conversation we had about counseling. Uh, huh, and ?

He only agreed with me because he didn’t know what else to do. (bangs head on table in frustration) SSSSSoooooo, I go over it again, using small words and easy to understand phrases.  He tells me what he thought he heard before. Paraphrasing here, “It’s all my fault and you’re done trying.” Blank stare, this isn’t what I said at all, not even remotely close. I explain again, cuz I’ve got nothing better in the world to do than to make you feel better. groan

I’m getting very weary of being diplomatic. I really am. What I want to do is scream , of course it’s your fault! You checked out on me and then proceeded to have needs met outside of the marriage which should have been kept in bounds! Putz! Grow a pair and call me when you’ve got it figured out.  Dang. Scowl

At this stage it would be nice if I didn’t know him so well. It really would. My interpretation of the conversation? I’m afraid. I want you in counseling with me to help fix ME. Not us, Me. I don’t want to do it on my own. You need to share responsibility for my recovery.

Em, let me think about that for a moment. If it quacks like a duck, walks like a duck and poops like a duck – It’s a duck.

You’re sick. You want me to continue holding your sorry butt up because you don’t want to do the work to take care of it yourself. This is my problem how? Peels duck-person off of me and heads off to wash.

I’ve been taking care of myself, thank you very much. Let me repeat; you’re the putz, not me.

You will not be collapsing on me in any manner, emotionally, spiritually or physically. I CAN’T fix this mess, nor do I have inclination to do so.  He sounds like a ten-year old wanting his mother to make it better. Icky, not going there any more. He’s been coughing, wheezing and otherwise acting ill. I will not engage this behavior. Won’t do it.

At some point I will explode at him. He will be gravely injured by hearing the facts of the matter. How dare I be so blunt? Let me see, cuz tactful doesn’t work?  Gah!

Is being married to a man too much to ask? Apparently so. Shakes head.

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