I still have to write about the second counseling session, but I haven’t been in the mood for it. Not because of the session, but because things around the house have taken a turn for the worse.
I don’t know why, but there is so much latent aggression in my wife at the moment. The smallest thing leads to verbal attacks, mocking, and so on. If I wasn’t steadfast in trying to see if this is all a phase to be endured, I could throw back snarky replies that are equally hurtful and, more importantly, fact rather than fiction. But I am keeping my cool. For now.
Unfortunately, it hurts. I haven’t done anything to justify these outbursts. Getting home from work and trying to hold a civil conversation and plan a few days ahead is something that would please many women. How can coming home and ignoring her be a better solution?
Why it almost instantly creates friction is beyond me. Not only does it hurt me, it leaves me in a difficult position. If I defend myself, she storms off, not to be seen again that night. No “Good night” to the girls, nothing. If don’t defend myself, it’s humiliating. I’m letting someone attack me for things I didn’t do, and getting cut off without the chance to reply before a quick exit denies any chance of a resolution.
It doesn’t bode well. Maybe I shouldn’t have put “Likely” in the Blog title, maybe “Eventually Inevitable” would have been better. I hope not. But I’m beginning to see a path through this that doesn’t end well…
The end result is my title: melancholy moods. For those that are further along in this than me, you know what I mean. I see something around the house, sometimes a small thing that has sentimental value, and there’s a swell of emotion. With more than twenty years of marriage (I married young), almost everything around the house has sentimental value in one way or another. So many things remind me of how much I seem to be losing.
The girls at home have cried a lot more these last few days as they’ve noticed the tension. They’ve been troopers through some of this, but fragile at other times. We’re definitely back in the fragile area now.
And here I am again, with a cold bed, and just me and my laptop, pecking away. A final thing that has surprised me, even if it’s off-topic. Shouldn’t I be feeling randy and frustrated by now? It’s been AGES. But, somehow, I just don’t seem to care. I doubt that’s a good sign.