This is a diary entry/journal for friends I keep and thought I'd share here. Written a few weeks ago. I actually think we're going to make it out of this together...
The seeds of the bomb drop took root April 2015 when I had to be admitted to hospital and I needed care and mlc felt trapped.
So here we are... Just over 5 years past the bomb drop with unexplained abdominal pain, testing, no explanation. Last night, suddenly, I collapsed with nausea... A red flag my doctor warned me to mean I needed to immediately present to emerg for fear of burst appendix. I didn't want to go emerg and I knew I "should".
As I struggled with the decision, mlc packed a bag for me. Food. Diet cokes. Warm socks. The laptop with new games he thought I'd like. Said he would go with me, if I needed him to, but he was nervous about leaving d16 k (who has had a rough time.mental health wise in the pandemic and yes mlc stepped the [censored] up) alone... We're not on red alert anymore, but I'm not ready to leave her alone either.
"I'll go in the morning," I said. Regretting missing work, especially now with a new boss who I worry doesn't like me.
I sniffled and let a couple of tears escape... The body memory of what the last need for hospital triggered. Stuff that was already rumbling and yet I had no idea.
"That's where it began," I cried.
He nodded. He didn't defend or push back or shoulders up. He nodded. Let it sink in.
"Yeah. And we are in such a better place now." He said.
I responded, "I believe you'd come and you would barely resent it at all."
He laughed.
I went to the kitchen to feeling-eat a bowl of chips.
As I stood up, he said, " I'm going to start an episode of the Black list at 9:40 even though I'm exhausted. That's how much I love you."
I stopped. Mid step. He hadn't said that explicitly in 5 years. I looked at him... Probably questioning eyebrows and panic and hope and terror all bundled into one flash of emotion across my face.
"Yeah. I said that. That's what I said. And no we can't talk about it and I need you to pretend you didn't hear it for a bit but I definitely said it."
So I laughed. And stress ate. And he turned on the TV and I promptly fell asleep in his lap.
And I need to forgive myself. I wanted this hope so desperately, and now that I have it, I berate myself for staying and accepting these crumbs. If I'd left, I would have berated myself for not trying harder.
I think we're going to come out of this loving deeper. I remind myself this was always our path, from the moment we met and our oppositional traumas locked into one another. We always faced this struggle. I've never regretted falling in love with him.
I affirm my own values of deeply committing to humans, all of us so fundamentally flawed.
A few weeks until 25 years of marriage. Wild, isn't it?
There is a bottle of cider in the basement. The last bottle of the batch we were given as a wedding present by his parents. I remember it being delicious.
We plan to take a weekend somewhere and drink that cider... Or open it anyway. See how much it's changed in 25 years. Will it be terribly soured and ruined or simply changed, as we have?
I arrived here some 6 years ago and found the MLC forums and it was describing everything I was experiencing. I read the new people news, and I thought 5 to 7 years for my husband to return to human status. That's too long. We'll be faster. I got this.
I've thought we were piecing before, and I got myself smashed in the face with the shards of broken hope when he got overwhelmed, hit me in the jugular, shut down and asked me how many times he was going to have to tell me he was done with this marriage.
But he never moved out.
Two days ago, he brought me out with him to a rock cliff to show me how to rappel down the face of it. He turns rock cliffs into useable climbs for rock climbers. He's taken leadership role in the local rock climbing community. Even made the news for his efforts to make sure new outdoor climbers, a surging population, in the pandemic didn't injure themselves and could find mentors. He invited me to come scrub rock (take the moss and growth off so it can be climbed), so I could see what the work entailed. As we drove the hour to the cliff, he told me his plan to support me and help me manage the inevitable fear of a trusting a rope go lower myself over a cliff. Earlier memories, from way before the bomb drop, bubbled up as I remembered him drilling me to improve my scuba skills and his lack of care left me with a serious ear injury. The difference between his thoughtfulness back then as mylo ing husband and now, as my MLC spouse who has done actually incredible growth worth... I started crying and trying to breathe to come.back to center. I stiffen and I know he knows.
"Crap!". I thought. "I'm having BIG FEELINGS. Surefire was to ruin the day. Stop it, stop if, stop it.". Year of trying to be the reformed Lbs spouse screaming at me internally that this is against the rules. I'm way more terrified of his shut down reaction to my big feelings than I am at rock cliff.
Almost caught my breath, he says, "you know why I haven't gotten to the (various house chores post a recent renovation). It's because I'm getting all our scuba gear organized so we can go diving."
My favorite thing. The thing I also associate with the best years of our marriage.
So I lose the battle with hiding my emotions and I just sob. Bent over my lap in the car and sob.
I also feel the fear.. that fear of letting my guard down. And I feel so much empathy for him too. This is my fear of fully rekindling our relationship, and he's so much more afraid than me.
I put my hand on his shoulder, intending to reassure him and he seems to wiggle out from it.
"Was that a wiggle away?". "I'm driving and I'm trying to manage my own emotions." "It's okay. I just need to know what it is, so I can respond appropriately."
We sleep together two nights a week. There is hugging and I can now touch him affectionately without freaking out. There has been no kissing, nothing like that. He makes statements now about being committed to coming back and part of me knows we are still years away and wishes I'd left. Friends have gotten divorced and remarried in these years.
Most of me is glad. He is truly actually deeply a better, more loving human than I married. I'm so proud of him and of us.
But 6 years in. I couldn't counsel new folks that it's worth it.
I'm a therapist and a great one, and I couldn't speed this along. There are no shortcuts.
Things are good. My MLC is a better man than I married. I remember reading about that possibility, and I held on to that hope during.the very bad times. And, while it might be like winning the lottery, turns out it's also true.
He has grown so much, and so have I. We are slowly, so slowly,.piecing this marriage back together. What's different is that i believe.it... I believe that we will keep going on this same direction and that we will continue to have increasing emotional and physical intimacy and relational security.
I followed the plan.
I did my work.
It was so hard.
And now I have to work on forgiving myself.for tolerating the abuse. One step at a time.
Being an LBS is tender. Being an LBS in repair is even more so.
Thank you for the update! This forum needs more success stories!