“Before I see you next week, you have to do some things. Find some kind of activity to give your mind a break, if just for an hour, from thinking about your wife and marriage.”
-Therapist, this morning
What!? Is she suggesting I’m spending too much time thinking about this?
No crap, jerk-wad.
There’s a problem, and I brought it up in therapy this morning. I don’t have anything that fits that bill. ALL of my former interests are dead.
Golf- I’m crippled and don’t care.
Fishing- It’s boring to me now.
Reading for pleasure- don’t care.
Watching sports- don’t care.
Working out- nope.
Drinking booze- don’t care.
Injecting heroin- just kidding.
I bought a 6 pack of beer over the weekend. I finally opened one last night and drank about 3 ounces.
I’ll watch sports if it’s on, half heartedly. I certainly don’t seek it out. My hometown basketball team is the OKC Thunder, I’ve watched 15 minutes of the playoffs so far, maybe 15 minutes. My Bride and I went to a game this season, but I only went because the tickets were free and I got to spend time with her.
I really enjoyed going to the gym up until March hit. I do to give a crap about it now. Flabby, pale and gross? Sign me up.
Reading for pleasure died over a year ago. I used to read at least 5 long novels each summer. I think I did that last in 2012.
I went fishing about a month ago with My Bride and her Sister. It was an ok experience. I got to watch My Bride catch her first fish in about 47 years (I exaggerate some). Since then she has become a regular Bill Dance. All she talks about is fishing.
My father-in-law took her shooting down at our pond a month ago. She instant fell in love.
I shot a gun last summer and was scared by it. I’ve been hunting before, and now I’m scared!? What the hell?
I used to love the great outdoors. My Bride loved the great indoors. Now she is a modern day Annie Oakley and fisherwoman. The next thing that happens has got to be me seeing a picture if her eating the still beating heart of the buck she just took down with her bare hands. She’s going to be starting fires with sticks and building a leanto for her wimpy husband to cower in as she hunts lions, topless and covered in African tribal paint by the light of the moon. At this rate, when we get back together, I’M going to be on the receiving end of our intimate encounters.
That’s not going to happen, but I think it gets my point across. She’s getting ultra-tough and rugged as I become more and more emasculated. How is that happening to me? I cry like a damned baby any time I’m hit by emotion. Last night as we exchanged texts, I cried. This morning when we spoke, in person, I had a complete meltdown.
There was a time, months and months ago, where I would hide my face from her and apologize for crying. It’s ok, there’s no shame in crying. Last month, when her sister moved in and My Bride let her in on our secret, I went upstairs to talk with them. Sister-in-law was talking about her divorce and said she refused to cry. Crying is a sign if weakness. My Bride looked at her and nodded her head. I left that room knowing I had been losing respect every time tears flowed from my eyes. I wasn’t able to stop though.
Whenever strong emotion overtakes me, I cry. Hard. This morning was the first time I’ve list in such a way since our separation. I’m ashamed of myself. I have been showing nothing but weakness to My Bride since my disclosure. It’s no wonder, then, that me gaining respect from her has not happened. I haven’t earned it. In fact, quite the opposite. I’ve been bleeding respect.
My Bride said she agreed with Therapist. You have got to be thinking about other things. All we ever do when we get together is talk about this stuff. It’s exactly the same way things were before we separated.
I’ve got nothing to go to though. I have no humor or sustainable joy in my life. I’m consumed by sadness. Somehow though, I’m not depressed. This time last month I would have been planning a suicide attempt. I’m not there. My Bride says she’s sorry I’m in such a low place. I just don’t understand.
My Bride bought her very own fishing pole last Friday. A hot pink and black Ugly Stick. I had to ask what the heck that was. She used to ask ME what that stuff was. Now she has a really nice rod and reel and her own tackle box.
It appears my ticket out of this might be fishing. I’d go shooting but father-in-law won’t take me, and yes, I asked. Since I don’t own any weaponry, I’m pretty much stuck. So I’m off to buy a new pole and stuff. I saw my old pole destroyed, snapped in two, on our porch this morning.
Effort 1 starts in an hour. I’m going fishing. I have to buy brand new gear. I probably can’t afford it, but I sure as he can’t afford to sulk around and ruminate on my problems. I’m REALLY good at that, it’s time to
gain relearn some skills.
Time to I something different.
Wish me luck.