It’s Sunday night, and hubby has returned from his failed fishing trip. The trip was rained out, but he hung with his buddy all day, and is in this great mood. It was just what he needed. Kat is in bed, and so we are. I’m sort of cuddled up next to him, and I’m half here, half gone. Some part of me wants to kiss him. The little girl is conflicted; if she kisses him, she really wants him to say no, and stop things, but she also doesn’t want him to leave, and she wants to know he is there and loves her. It’s confusing.
I ignore the little girl, and listen to his stories about his day. After a while, he looks at me. “You okay?”
I shrug. I want to say yes, of course I am okay, but something stops me. “I don’t know.” I feel tears welling up.
“What is it?” He’s concerned now. It’s his concerned voice that is coming out. Oh crap.
“Nothing. I just…I had a thing with Bea. And I would normally talk to Kay, but she is gone. I don’t know.”
“A thing?” He is confused. He doesn’t speak my language. He speaks the language of Miss Perfect, not the disjointed, jumbled, random mess that is the language of Alice.
“Ugh. I don’t know! A….not a fight. Just….she came back from vacation but wasn’t really here. And Kay is not speaking to me so I have no one to talk to!”
“You can talk to me.” His voice is gentle and kind and caring and I know he means it and he loves me.
I don’t respond. I just nod my head. And hubby lets it go. So, just like that we are back to discussing a movie or show to watch. We choose a show, and I go away. Fuzzy, floaty, safe. That warm blurry space that is so familiar to me.
I can’t stay there, though, so when a commercial comes on, I take a breath, focus on things around me. “I can’t talk to you. I talk….everytime……and then you are just shut down the next day. So I can’t. It’s no good.”
“I don’t mean to be! I’m just waiting for you to bring it up again.” He protests.
“It’s not even that…it’s…you just aren’t here. You don’t…I don’t know.” I can’t explain it. It’s some thing you feel. Not something easily put into words.
“Well, what does Kay do?”
“She’s just….she’s Kay.” I shrug. I can’t tell him what she does, or how she acts. He can’t just mimic that on the surface. It needs to be real. And that’s the problem, I realize. He can’t do much more than surface, and he can’t do abstract emotional stuff.
“I want to help. Tell me what to do.” He means it, I can feel that.
“It’s okay. I just…I want us to be able to talk, and be real with each other. But you know….it can’t…we won’t be able to do that until I’ve worked through some of my stuff, and you’ve worked through yours. If you want to help me, if you want to understand what it is I need, go to therapy.”
“Therapy? Okay. If you really think that’s it. Okay.” He says.
I nod. “I do. Therapy will help.”
“All right then,” he says, and unpauses the show. I guess our talk is over.
Samuel would never, I mean NEVER, agree to that! Once he did early on but it didn’t work out too well. So that yours is willing, just like that…seems miraculous to me.
I don’t believe men and women are on the same emotional plane. More like parallel universes. A woman will know exactly what you are talking about and feeling. And a man? No way. And sometimes I wish I were a man. It seems so much easier. None of the intricate workings of social stuff that women seem to understand and manage. Like managing social engagements. It seems the woman makes the plans. At least I do and notice it done by other women I know. As long as there’s food, men will come. : )
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I don’t think we are on the same plane either. But I do think that they can learn to be more emotional. I don’t think hubby is actually going to go to therapy. I think he just agreed to keep the peace. But time will tell.
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What’s that book, “Men are from Mars, Women from Venus.” Something like that.
Yes, of course… our partners need to listen and TRY! You bet!
Sometimes I just don’t have the energy to shake Samuel up and get him to see! That is, until I boil over. Then look out!
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I totally get that…..even when I boil over, I don’t have the energy to shake hubby enough to make him see, I’m just angry!
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Yeah. Just give me some space!
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The whole talking with hubby thing is so hard, isn’t it? Mine is coming in to my next session because I’m having so much trouble talking with him about some things I need his support with. My therapist has only been trying to get me to bring him in for at least the last two years.
I hope that your hubby will follow through and get some good out of it!
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I’m glad your hubby is going to therapy with you– talking to him will be good for you. I know how hard it is to talk to hubbys, and I hope the session goes well.
I hope my hubby follows through, too. But I don’t think he will.
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Actually, it did go well. There were a bunch of good things that came out of it, some of which were completely unexpected. One of the most powerful of which was listening to my therapist say to him that based on our work, she believes that my father did sexually abuse me, even if the memories are confusing about exactly what happened. Hearing her say it to someone else when she wasn’t worrying about saying something that would influence me one way or the other was a huge relief.
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I’m really glad it was good! I can imagine how validating it was to hear her say that out loud to another. I hope it helps him in understanding and supporting you. Xx
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It’s huge that he agrees. I believe he wants to help and has no idea how. He restarts the show to cover up the awkwardness he feels because he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know how to just sit there with all the feelings and not “fix” everything. But he could learn that in therapy.
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This makes sense of why he restarts the show. Thanks for putting it into words and making sense. Therapy for him would help him, and us. I hope one day. Xx
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Even if it isn’t perfect or clean or clear, any dialogue is so worthwhile and I am glad you are talking. And that he is talking. Even if it isn’t where you would like it to be, I see communication happening. Hang in there, sending support.
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I’m glad he is talking too. It’s not where I want it to be, but at least things are moving. Xx
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