A divorce is an amputation; you survive it, but there's less of you.
Margaret Atwood
Keeping vigil (flickr)
I've decided that I'm not going to bed tonight because earlier this evening my husband told me something devastating. I'd suspected much of what he was feeling, but he hadn't been able to say it- until tonight.
Tonight, at about 7:30 p.m. I asked my husband if he thought he could talk more about what he's been feeling and thinking the past two months, when he's had little explanation for his stated decision to leave me. Okay, he said and I listened. I found it hard to believe that he was being so honest or actually felt this way and so I asked him to repeat it so that I could write it down and he did. In a nutshell, he said that "I am limiting my compassion [for you] to protect myself and to keep from being taken over by frightening, overwhelming, and unpleasant emotions. I want to distance myself and, in fact, I feel like you've been abusing me with your feelings." I was floored. Upon further, discussion, he also admitted that he "just didn't care" [about me] and that he had to protect himself. What could I say? I've spent time before urging him to go to counselling - which he is - and so far, there are few results that I like. Part of me realizes that, if he simply can't handle my PTSD, he has a right to leave. And part of me hurts like hell.distress (AndreaLeev, flickr)
We have been married for 36 years and have an 18-year-old son who is still at home. My husband pulled away similarly before and blamed me for his own feelings of distress. I was weaker then and hadn't done the work that I've done now, so I fell for it and blamed myself too. I can't do that now. I cannot buy into his story of what's going on because it doesn't ring true for me. Right now, I think I'm in a blessed state of shock. Or, I think, it might even be a step in the right direction, as painful as it is, that he told me exactly what he's feeling and I didn't scream or cry or hit him or tell him to shut up. Meanwhile, he still insists that he's going to meet with my therapist on Wednesday. I can't imagine what can come from that.
Is my husband emotionally abusive? Probably in some ways. He's certainly an emotional phobic. Is there hope for change? Who knows. (I thought I would stay up all night, but this makes me so exhausted and sad, that I think I'll go to bed after all. I have sat here for about an hour with a candle lit and drinking some wine. It seemed like the occasion called for it.) I will try to write here as I can, not necessarily on what is happening with my husband and I. I was hoping to start a series on the importance of speaking out because I'm still editing that manuscript on Aushwitz which reminds me that things could be even worse - much, much worse. And we need people with the courage to speak out. I will be reviewing some books and sharing interviews and songs on that theme. And, when I am able, I will have updates on my own situation.
I wanted to include the Lhasa de Sela song my husband's been listening to lately. Instead, I'll try to include on of hers that I love. Doesn't appear to be there, but I'll leave it anyway.
