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Posts Tagged ‘Is it time to leave?’

I’ve been gathering up some things this morning and I was struck at how easy it’s been to pull out what’s important and abandon the rest. It goes with what I’ve said for years. Stuff is nice. I like my stuff. In the end it’s just stuff and stuff comes and goes.

There are things I’m leaving because I have no place for them. There are clothes I can’t wear this time of year. As I look around I realize how little much of it means to me. It used to, but somehow without a solid relationship it really doesn’t seem to matter.

I’ve got bills to pay and clothes to pack. The computer will be the last thing into the car, so I can find a nice secure spot for it among my meager belongings, mostly clothes and must have my pillows.

I’m oddly calm about all of this and have been since shortly after the decision was made. Facing something and actually doing it are so different. Indecision is the painful space of life. This isn’t a rash decision. Lord knows it’s over due, I just couldn’t take that step. One more chance. One more this or that. Yeah, well sometimes that works and sometimes it doesn’t.

At this point I’m wondering how long I’ll be gone. A month, three or more? We’ll just have to see how it goes.

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So it would seem my bringing up our counseling in a very noisy, busy, restaurant rattled him more than I thought. Honestly I think it’s the counselor I mentioned more than the place, but anyway. This counselor knows both of us. Gasp, someone who could call his nonsense!

We went out to dinner with friends and had a very nice time. Or so I thought. I’m bopping around doing what I do and I find him in the dining room. In the dark. Okay. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Alright then,” and I go on about my business. This whole drama king thing is on my last nerve.

Twenty minutes later. I’m in the kitchen. He comes in and sits on a bar stool, staring at me expectantly. Really? So I ask, “What?”

He doesn’t answer. I’m close to glaring now. “Dump it. What’s up?”

We are back to how ‘he’ feels. What ‘he’ expects. What ‘he’ heard me say. (which wasn’t even remotely close to what I meant.)

I commence to do my level best to explain my position. He doesn’t get it. I start to cry. Okay, I was sobbing. I seem to be doing that a lot lately. See this is why we need counseling, I don’t seem to speak his language.

His response? He wants to comfort me as I comfort him? huh? This is just so twisted.

I finally stopped crying and tried to escape him outside for fresh air. He follows me. Big surprise. He’s still talking. I’m sort of listening and wondering who called me while I was bawling my head off. As I head into the house I pull my cell from my pocket and connect to voice mail.

OH! He’s not done talking. le groan. He’s upset at how rude I am. Fine. I called back my friend, answered her question and then faced him. Because the world revolves around him. I explained I thought he was done and I wondered who had called. He forgave me and turned toward the sink, saying, “Don’t ever do that to me again!”

Oh really? I went upstairs. If I’d opened my mouth I’d have never gotten to bed, and I had an appointment in the morning. He’s issuing me orders now? I $#@!@*& don’t think so.  I ruminated yesterday. The answer? I need to live with myself for a while. I checked out extended stay places. No, don’t go to the hourly dives with a ‘hot tub’ in every room. Shivers. Ick. No, there are executive suites for extended stays. Mostly business trips, but it works for my purpose too.

I’ll be scoping them out after work tomorrow. Gah! I didn’t want it to come to this.

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This week has been a bizarre mixture of sublime and eye-opening moments.

The sublime? The stars aligned and all of my daughter’s wedding party could be at the store to choose bride’s maid dresses. It only took about an hour, another fifteen minutes for them to dress the flower girl. Then I was abandon at the cash register with a very cheerful sales person, as she read our order back to me. Dazed is a good description. It was like getting sucked back in time to when they would play dress up in my living room. The chatter and squeals were delightful. Have I mention how much I love this bunch? Yeah, I do. Pat my chest, my girls are all grown up.

My husband, who hasn’t been involved in this sort of thing, oh since, em, never. (Not a single dance or prom) Now confesses to feeling left out. Huh? You really wanted to look at dresses with squealing young women and not a man item in sight? Bridal shop. Remember? Solid girl, wall to frilly wall. I said if he wanted to come for our daughter’s dress fitting he certainly could. He winged a brow at that.

The real deal? It’s killing him that I have money and he doesn’t know how much. Too bad so sad. My sanity money will stay right where it is. It was a gift from my father and has nothing to do with you.

I went to see my counselor on Friday as we spoke I kept hitting on the point that I was stuck. I have no idea how to move forward. She suggested until I felt fully heard it was unlikely that I can. Great. More waiting for him. Crap!

She suggested that we see her together. This is not someone my husband would have chosen. When I told him what she said, he went a bit unhinged. He scowled that we shouldn’t be discussing this in a restaurant.  Really? I’ll spare some of the things he’s brought up at the dinner table; at a restaurant.

Earlier in the day he apologized for not getting me flowers this week. I told him, he didn’t have to get me flowers every week. His reply? Yes I do.

Okay, so this about me is it?

We had a quiet evening after the counseling conversation. A couple of hours after we got home, he told me he needed me. Now that’s a news flash. I answered, I know.

No, he says, I need your support.

Say what?  I draw my knees to my chest in the chair I was sitting on.- I’m not going to comfort you while you cry about how you’ve treated me.

He claimed that wasn’t it. We are not convinced in the slightest way possible.

He’s scared. I get that, so am I. To look for me to support him in that is ridiculous. It’s like tearing down the shop and expecting me to help him rebuild it.  I didn’t tear the damned thing down. Deal with it.

I was an accomplice to how long this situation was allowed to carry on. He’s the one who is solely responsible for the state of his life. I won’t, can’t help fix that. It’s not possible. If it could have been done, it would have been down a thousand times over with results.

And so here I stand wondering, again, what the hell I think I’m doing?

Plan A is solidifying whether either of us like it or not. I don’t feel married. I’d rather be alone most of the time. Plan B, is looking less likely with each passing day. le sigh.

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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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