We went to bankruptcy court today. What an odd experience….anyway, that went well. I went to therapy and it was truly an excellent time. We finished our Christmas shopping. With the exception of my hour therapy, we spent the entire day together. No fights. No controversy. It was a really good day!
As we lay next to each other in bed, I asked her to roll over. She protested a moment, she’s a bit sick with congestion and is having a hard time breathing, but eventually rolled over. I told her the one thing I miss more than anything from our honeymoon week was her stare. She would stare into my eyes and smile. I told her that I never realized, until yesterday, how intimate that was.
She stared into my eyes for a second, maybe two. She looked away quickly. We chatted away for a moment or two. I finally asked her why she wouldn’t stare into my eyes. “Is it because of yesterday?” “No, I just don’t want to breathe on you.” “because I really understand you not being able to do it.” “To be perfectly honest, I’m having a real hard time with any physical intimacy right now. I can be around you and talk, but with anything else, it’s a line I can’t cross right now.”
I understand. I fucked up pretty bad.
“What really sucks is the last month has been wasted.”
“How has it been wasted?”
“All of the trust and respect is gone. We are completely starting over. Last time you said there was a new level of trust and respect. This time is like all the other times I fucked up. Trust and respect have been destroyed.”
“You said it, not me. You can believe what you want.”
“If you tell me I’m wrong, I’ll believe that. Am I wrong?”
What seemed like forever went by. I asked again. “Am I wrong?”
“I am drugged up on medicine. Don’t put something heavy on me right now.”
I’m not wrong. She would have told me if I were. She ALWAYS tells me if I’m wrong. She didn’t do it. Instead, she went for sleep.
It hurts knowing you intentionally fucked things up. Knowingly going out and setting a trap using the one thing I knew would trouble her the most. Her NOT correcting me on the trust and respect thing makes it hurt all the worse.
I mentioned this to The Good Doctor. He asked why I did it. “I don’t know” was the only thing I could say. I told him about what My Bride had said the night before. “You better find out who or what deity you’re pissed at and attack them.”
He said that it was obvious to him, after hearing those remarks, that my actions grew out of anger. “That’s what anger does. It lies and deceives.” So we begin working on my anger in our make-up session tomorrow. That is something I truly look forward to.
If I could fix only one thing it would be my anger. I think everything else would fall in line very quickly if anger were resolved. I despise the anger within me. I hate it. Which is, of course, more anger.
I hate that I cannot control my anger. I hate that My Bride becomes the target of my anger. Especially since I’m not angry with her. I hate that I have destroyed a month of work and progress. I hate that I’ve destroyed the trust and respect I had earned back.
There’s quite a bit of self-hate that has returned as a result of my actions. I’m incredibly disgusted with myself over this one. What on the hell does she see in me that makes her want to let me stay? I will never understand that. She says I’m her soulmate. What!? How!? I piss on her every chance I get. This is straight up unhealthy shit I’m shoveling on her. She comes back, usually (not this time) with “We’ll get through this together.”
How can someone be like that? How can someone love the person that is the number one source of pain and suffering on her life? How can she be nice to me? How can she desire a relationship with me?
I told her that there are, at least, 4 guts on my head at all times. The Good Guy wants to do the right thing, meet her needs, grow with her. Dick Head does and says evil things, thinks they’re funny or satisfying. Neanderthal wants to bone her all the time. Funny Guy tries to make everyone laugh as much as possible. “You need to figure our who’s going to win.”
I said all that to The Good Doctor. He proposed a treatment called “Self Therapy.” The theory being within our body as a whole, there are many different entities at work. Good Guy, Dock Head, Asshole, comedian and so on. Each one has a different role and personality. They are also like children. They will tug on your shoulder begging for attention. If they don’t get it, they act out.
There’s a lot more, but I think I may have chased off most of my readers with that. The point is, there’s a war taking place in my mind. I’ve got to figure out which guy to feed and give supplies to. I’ve got to give him what he needs to best the shit out of these other guys and kill them if need be.
My sanity depends on it.
My Bride’s sanity depends on it.
Our marriage depends on it.
If the wrong guy wins, she needs to be able to move on and get on with life. This shit isn’t fair to her.