I know the reason. It’s fairly obvious. It’s the weekend. And while that brings happiness, time away from work and time with family and friends for 99% of the world, inside the 4 walls of my house, it brings stress, anxiety, worry. And that’s really sad. I look at this time as an opportunity to talk with my wife, continue to work thru the issues we are having. She sees it as a time that She is not distracted from the problems by work, as much, the kids are hungry for her attention, constant stimulation showing the problems, not hiding them. The house is just that for us, especially her now. It’s no longer a home. There is no safety or reprieve from the worlds stressors. They are glaringly apparent, right in front of you. The weekends are by far the hardest time for us during this.
It’s apparent when I go to “bed” every night, on the couch in the basement. I hope every night is the night She says “come to bed with me, just be by me.” Doesn’t happen. So I go downstairs, laying on the couch, hoping to get a text that doesn’t come, saying “I miss you, come upstairs.” I hate the dark now. I have always had issues when going to bed with Her, when I need Her in an intimate way. When She says no, it constantly feels like rejection. I know sex isn’t every night, but I liked it a few times a week. But this rejection is different. It’s more. It’s “get away from Me, I don’t feel safe.” Seeing that from your wife is humiliating. Makes me feel like I’m not a man.
We have a lot of other “things” going on. In the midst of this, I am changing jobs. Or supposed to change jobs. Going to a busier place with sicker patients. A job I have been working toward since October. In my career field, you don’t just give 2 weeks and move it. It’s a process. So I’m supposed to change this summer, the ball is rolling. And my life is a mess. Not exactly great timing to make big changes. My current group doesn’t want me to leave, have offered more money, better benefits. They have identified issues I’ve noted as reasons for leaving and are actively trying to change them. Perfect. So i stay, make less money, but have stability. Tell the new place, sorry it won’t work right now, my life is teetering on the brink of disaster. Only they won’t understand. Word has it, you turn down a job with them, you’re blacklisted, banned from ever working there. Mind you, I’m young, only 5 years into what will be a 30 plus year career. I know things change, but it’s a small community.
So this is a big decision. And I have to make it soon. So I talk with Her about it. What do you think, etc. I value her opinion. But she isn’t “there.” She talks, but ultimately she tells me to follow my heart. My heart is broken and in no position to make a serious decision. And I need my best friend to help. And she’s not here. She’s hidden somewhere in a deep, safe place inside of Her. And I say “Her” and not “her” because “her” is my wife, the loving, caring, nurturing woman who chose me as a husband. The one I left down in so many ways. “Her” is the person she becomes when she is hurt and angry. Emotionless around me. Stone faced when we talk, work face. Serious stuff. Not loving, caring, conversational like I’m used to. “She” is indifferent when I talk about stuff. Like this morning, discussing the plans for the weekend, “she” is there because it was about the kids. Then I discuss making time to work on us. “She” just sits there, not answering. Just blank.
I understand I don’t always handle things the best way. That’s a major reason we are where we are. I didn’t handle my reaction well this morning. I stood up, cleaned my coffee cup, put away my blanket, and sighed. Looking for a reaction. And that’s part of the problem, looking for a reaction, instead of just talking. So I just asked, what’s wrong with that plan? “She’s” afraid. “She’s” afraid of giving the wrong response, afraid of saying what I don’t expect to hear, don’t want to hear, afraid of the weekend. “She” is assuming I want to hear things are great. I know they aren’t. But I need to know where She/she is at. To mentally prepare for this weekend.
I know this is going to move at a snails pace. A step a day in the right direction isn’t reasonable. An inch will have to do. But She is an anchor. Not budging. Solid. It’s Her protection. “She” has been here before, a failed abusive marriage. While the abuse is hugely different, but to her, it makes her turn into Her, the abuse is abuse, the words tear her apart. So she retreats into a bunker long ago built, trusting to never need it again. And going back to it makes it hard to come back out.
So I am lost. I have no idea where to turn. I have people to talk to, but they all tell me to stay to course. Just be patient. Patiently walking on an unknown course, possibly back to where she is, to walk hand in hand, side by side someday. Or directly off a cliff. The hardest thing about staying the course, continuing my walk is knowing it won’t take me to “her” bunker. “She” has it hidden, guarded, inaccessible. And as much as I walk, as far as I can go, I’ll never be beside “her” while “she” is in there. “She” is a protector, keeping “her” safe.
So no matter what direction I turn, whichever way I walk/run/sprint, it’s wrong. And it’s so hard. I turn to prayer, it calms me some. Giving the heartache to Him helps, but it still weighs on me. I pray for Her to soften, but She is strong. So I spin, lost, alone. And the one thing I used to always turn to, it’s gone. And my substance of abuse, to medicate my mood, to help me forget, but remember, is gone. Which is good, but makes me realize it’s something I’ve leaned on a lot. So that step is good, to not treat this the ways I’ve treated it before. But still, I feel lost.