During therapy, I changed jobs. The events were unrelated.
My old job was fine but the scope and target were changing and I had an option to lead the Arizona part of the work or be part of the Virginia team. There was a lead in Arizona who would have been pushed aside and I didn't think that was right, but in Virginia I was sorely underutilised.
In retrospect, I left at the right time. The contract was rebid, I was working for a subcontractor which decided to mutiny. They lost the bid, and they lost their subcontract role. All of the people from that company were told to go home. Again, part of the series of events that got me where I am today, at this moment.
During my next job job interview, I was asked where I lived and I said that was an interesting question because I was looking to move out for a bit (I had suggested six months to the therapist) and I explained briefly what was going on in my life.
Shortly after starting, my manager told me he was planning to retire and was going to look for a place to live in Colorado. He'd be taking an extended trip out there and would like to have a housesitter. Since I was considering moving out for a while, it might be synergistic.
Sometimes, the universe looks out for you. I still attribute things that work well to my personal muse, Thalia (the traditional muse of comedy). She's been looking out for me for a long time and continues to have my back. I'm sure she nudged me into accepting therapy, changing jobs, mentioning that I want to get out for a while.... I don't think I would have made that final admission without a nudge from somewhere.
During our next therapy session I told my wife that I had an empty house to move into for a while and I would be doing so. I'd bring my computer, some clothes, and a LOT of Meg. I planned to play a bit but I also planned to a LOT of writing. Writing has always helped to clear my mind and solve problems. I am a huge believer in stream-of-consciousness writing. I had a bunch of prompts I had come up with to work from and a minimum time I would write each day.
I was hopeful.
Showing posts with label therapy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label therapy. Show all posts
Friday, October 24, 2014
Thursday, October 23, 2014
Timeline I, Part II: Marital Therapy Can Be Fatal
Things were kind of rocky after the "moving out of the basement" event, but the status quo had taken over.
In the spring of 2012, my wife suggested going for marital therapy. She had some issues of her own that she wanted to address, she thought the marriage could use some help, and she offerred to discuss my crossdressing. She's never wanted to do that final item before and it convinced me to go.
In the first session, I suggested that we go out to eat after each session to kind of keep any animosity at bay. The therapist thought that was a good idea, and we (mostly) did so.
Each session followed a pattern.
My wife would start with something that was, in effect, "here's what's wrong with him" and I would spend the session trying to recover from being blindsided. She had some doozies. And everything was what I did wrong; I don't think she considered any other possibilities.
I should have expected something like this.
A few years ago, we took a marital workshop. She couched it as an educational activity for her; I would be along because it was for couples and it would be odd for her to be on her own. I understood that she wanted to use this as an opportunity to work on our own marriage while she learned techniques from the workshops.
I was definitely wrong there. I assume she was there to learn, but the workshops were mostly for me to work on our marriage.
There were several sessions (I think it was Saturday and Sunday for two weeks). We were issued homework as well as assignments during the workshops.
I did my homework. She did not. She was there to learn. I was there to make our marriage better, because, well, I was the problem.
Every other couple did their work diligently and even shared with the group.
In therapy, she accused me of miscellaneous and sundry insults. I was flawed and she was a saint who tolerated me, waiting until I saw the light and changed.
My dressing was just another problem in a series, or a symptom of what else is wrong with me.
During our time in therapy, I mentioned that I might want to move out for a bit so I can think without being punched in the face (figuratively) constantly. I suggested six months. It's hard to think when you're being hit all the time. Cliché though it is, I needed space.
The therapist agreed that it might be a good idea. In fact, the therapist took my side whenever I'd ask her opinion but mostly she sat stupidly and let the attacks continue. My wife pronounced her a "good therapist." I think she was a complete waste who put rockets on a marriage that was merely drifting downhill.
In the spring of 2012, my wife suggested going for marital therapy. She had some issues of her own that she wanted to address, she thought the marriage could use some help, and she offerred to discuss my crossdressing. She's never wanted to do that final item before and it convinced me to go.
In the first session, I suggested that we go out to eat after each session to kind of keep any animosity at bay. The therapist thought that was a good idea, and we (mostly) did so.
Each session followed a pattern.
My wife would start with something that was, in effect, "here's what's wrong with him" and I would spend the session trying to recover from being blindsided. She had some doozies. And everything was what I did wrong; I don't think she considered any other possibilities.
I should have expected something like this.
A few years ago, we took a marital workshop. She couched it as an educational activity for her; I would be along because it was for couples and it would be odd for her to be on her own. I understood that she wanted to use this as an opportunity to work on our own marriage while she learned techniques from the workshops.
I was definitely wrong there. I assume she was there to learn, but the workshops were mostly for me to work on our marriage.
There were several sessions (I think it was Saturday and Sunday for two weeks). We were issued homework as well as assignments during the workshops.
I did my homework. She did not. She was there to learn. I was there to make our marriage better, because, well, I was the problem.
Every other couple did their work diligently and even shared with the group.
In therapy, she accused me of miscellaneous and sundry insults. I was flawed and she was a saint who tolerated me, waiting until I saw the light and changed.
My dressing was just another problem in a series, or a symptom of what else is wrong with me.
The therapist agreed that it might be a good idea. In fact, the therapist took my side whenever I'd ask her opinion but mostly she sat stupidly and let the attacks continue. My wife pronounced her a "good therapist." I think she was a complete waste who put rockets on a marriage that was merely drifting downhill.
Sunday, September 7, 2014
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Ongoing Soap Opera Note
I'm looking for an apartment right now. This is not how I expected to start my New Year.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Therapies Are Made of This
The couples' therapist will be away for a couple of weeks. My wife has come up with ideas that make the therapist and I look at each other in wonderment. And that's not my imagination. I've asked the therapist "do you understand this?" and she shakes her head and asks my wife what she means. The explanation is usually not better than the original statement.
Last week's session started with her apologising for me. I still don't know what for. She said she "knows who we are" and related what she said was a pre-creation story. I think she think she's God and I'm Satan (she called me her "worthy adversary." She wants to spend her life with her adversary? I'm confused.)
The previous week she told me that "I won." She figured out that 'imitation is the sincerest form of flattery" and I'm a better-looking girl than she is (I won't comment on that!). So I won. I pointed out that many of my community friends (you ladies) agree that we hold women in high regard, but that only "proved her point."
These insights are not just limited to the sessions. I get tired of asking her what she means at home now.
A recent example: I had a dream in which I was supposed to get on a boat. There were a lot of people that I knew (in the dream) who were getting on the boat as well. I got sidetracked and although I had plenty of time the boat left and when I awoke I knew that it meant I shouldn't "miss the boat." I just kind of knew this. What the boat was, I have no idea. I told my wife and a day or so later, after thinking about it, she said "I wouldn't let you miss the boat." I didn't ask what that meant, since I still didn't know what the boat was.
I finished my last (that is, last free) private session last week. We spoke briefly about me continuing and I said "why?" She said "I don't think you need it. You seem like you've made a decision. And even though you're uncomfortable with the future direction, well, we all are when we make major decisions." We agreed I could always call if my situation changes and I need to talk. But I think talking with my friends has helped too, and she's right.
I've been looking at apartments.
I'm still not happy.
Last week's session started with her apologising for me. I still don't know what for. She said she "knows who we are" and related what she said was a pre-creation story. I think she think she's God and I'm Satan (she called me her "worthy adversary." She wants to spend her life with her adversary? I'm confused.)
The previous week she told me that "I won." She figured out that 'imitation is the sincerest form of flattery" and I'm a better-looking girl than she is (I won't comment on that!). So I won. I pointed out that many of my community friends (you ladies) agree that we hold women in high regard, but that only "proved her point."
These insights are not just limited to the sessions. I get tired of asking her what she means at home now.
A recent example: I had a dream in which I was supposed to get on a boat. There were a lot of people that I knew (in the dream) who were getting on the boat as well. I got sidetracked and although I had plenty of time the boat left and when I awoke I knew that it meant I shouldn't "miss the boat." I just kind of knew this. What the boat was, I have no idea. I told my wife and a day or so later, after thinking about it, she said "I wouldn't let you miss the boat." I didn't ask what that meant, since I still didn't know what the boat was.
I finished my last (that is, last free) private session last week. We spoke briefly about me continuing and I said "why?" She said "I don't think you need it. You seem like you've made a decision. And even though you're uncomfortable with the future direction, well, we all are when we make major decisions." We agreed I could always call if my situation changes and I need to talk. But I think talking with my friends has helped too, and she's right.
I've been looking at apartments.
I'm still not happy.
Friday, July 13, 2012
Therapy the Meg
Friday the thirteenth falls on a Friday this month! And happy semi-anniversary to a special friend.
Long long post. It should be two. I hope it's worthy of your time.
I started my "Meg" session by pointing out that I know two factual things: Surprise (like Meg showing up for an appointment) is a bad idea. Also, surprise is fun. And I opted for fun.
I asked her about my entrance, and what she thought. I have mentioned before that, if I could have a "superpower" it would be to read the minds of people when they first see me. I can't generally get an honest response, and I'd love to know what people think of Meg. Ugh? Wow? Guy? *yawn*?
I told this to the therapist. She said she thought I was another doctor's patient until I spoke to her. Then she recognised me from my photos. This, of course, is foreign behaviour to me. I'd never be able to identify someone from a picture I'd seen three weeks ago!
I talked about something that does trouble me a bit. I have thought about how I see myself in five and ten years. I believe most people would see a progression: moving up the ladder in five, running the department in ten; or downsizing in five and retiring and travelling in ten... something like that.
My career is stable. I expect to be working in ten years, doing what I'm doing now for some project or another. My home is a black hole: in five years, I'll be an empty nester, but my marriage is a house with a shaky foundation and I don't know if it's going to get shored up or fall down. It is, to me, an unknown.
But Meg.... I hope to be doing more things, have more experiences ~ greet the five year mark with more memories and more ideas as to what I want to do. Maybe I'll even find a regular Meg activity that I enjoy that I'll do weekly or monthly.
In ten years though.... Meg will be 68. I don't think Meg will be around in ten years. Although I think Meg looks somewhat younger than I do (and the therapist agreed but didn't attempt to put a number on it), I don't see myself as an elderly woman. If I didn't enjoy seeing Meg in the mirror, I wouldn't do the dressing. I think. But I do, and I don't think I want to see an old woman looking back at me.
Maybe ten years is an underestimate. I hope so. Or I may be wrong. I've noticed as I grow older, older women are more attractive to me. I do appreciate younger women as I did before, and I can easily imagine myself with someone, say, 21 years younger than me (yes, I border on the delusional). But I see more women well over 40 who I think look GREAT, especially those who dress GREAT. I admit I notice clothes before the wearer.
So maybe a 68 year old Meg will look 50 or so and I'll keep going. The 5/10 years is just a "look in the future" after all. It's no more an exact number than "forty" was in biblical stories (mostly it meant "a lot").
I know women live with growing older and losing their looks daily. But it's a gradual thing, and that's easier to understand and live with. I miss my hair, but it would have been worse if I woke up one morning with a bald pate. Gradual was better.
Meg is not continuous. Meg is a series of snapshots. Some of the images are months apart. I find it a bit scary.
This is all a detailed and roundabout way of saying, it means there's less of a Meg influence in my life now than I might think. I need to work on this.
I had mentioned to M earlier that a possible future is one without Meg. She brought this back up and said she can't imagine me being without something that's so big a part of my life. She also said she couldn't think of a comparable activity that other people get involved in. I agreed. I had done the same exercise.
My wife believes this is not a big part of my life. I have been doing stream-of-consciousness writing and one prompt Thalia offered me was based on something my wife said ~ that I can't love someone else if I don't love myself. My question to myself was, how can I love myself when I can't even BE myself? For the record, I need to write more on that one.
I also mentioned that my wife thinks I'm a narcissist, because I mentioned in one of our first couples' sessions that dressing has a "narcissistic component." I told M that my ego and self-esteem could fit in a medicine dropper. M said she maybe has a different definition of narcissism ~ someone who only talks about themselves. I said "well, look at us. All we ever talk about is me!" She said "And your wife!" and I said "only how it effects me."
A good point: I said when dressed I look in mirrors a LOT ~ she said "so do women." I also pointed out that I know exactly one t-gurl who does not have copious photos of herself. Some who consider themselves non-passing take pictures from the neck down.
I was reminded of an old Gary Shandling bit where he said his new girlfriend was too self-centered. "Everything is about her. I took her to dinner and she got too close to the candle on the table and her hair caught fire. She was all like 'I'M on fire! Put ME out!'"
At the end of the session I reminded M about the "narcissistic component" and asked if she'd take my picture. She did. It accompanies this post. Clicking will enlarge it.
I wanted a photo in the office manager's chair ~ Meg at her new job. :) But she said there would be people in the office so I didn't ask. It would look weird. Even I could see that.
As I left, the people in the office looked, but had no comment. Since I planned to go out to dinner, I grabbed the ladies' room key and used the facilities before I left. This was a one-toilet room, no problems.
I saw no-one else as I walked to my car. I found the local Giant and parked a decent walk away. I try to leave closer spots for people who need them. Or are just narcissistic. :) I then noticed that the restaurant I was looking for was way at the far end of the shopping centre. So I started walking through the lot, past people who looked at me (I smiled back at the women) or who were lost in their own world. I walked past a Dress Barn but it was now 7 and I was more interested in eating than shopping. And I really truly am trying to downsize. I keep telling myself that.
The restaurant was closed. I walked back, past that Dress Barn which insisted I need a new dress. I stood firm and went to my car to get a reuseable grocery bag. As I walked up the parking lot aisle a football-player-looking man walked towards me. I had a moment of worry, then looked away, as I usually do with men anyway. He walked past and I got my bag.
I saw the man in the grocery store. I HAVE to stop worrying.
There was nothing unusual in the grocery store. I didn't interact with anyone until the checkout. I chatted with the cashier who I think almost said sir. What I heard was "How are you this evening, {pause} ma'am?" I kept up some chit-chat and she asked if I needed help with my (one!) bag. I smiled and said "I'm not that old yet" and she laughed.
Back home, as I said, I didn't change until after 11. And Thursday I slept right through the alarm. I didn't even hear it. I was having pleasant dreams and I guess they were loud and drowned out the alarm.
Last night I covered my son and picked up another pair of open-toed shoes. The wedges were a tad uncomfortable after a couple of hours. And I have to mark these earrings. The right one pinched my ear quite a bit. The pain of a tight clip-on earring is, in my opinion, unique.
I may go out tonight.
Long long post. It should be two. I hope it's worthy of your time.
I started my "Meg" session by pointing out that I know two factual things: Surprise (like Meg showing up for an appointment) is a bad idea. Also, surprise is fun. And I opted for fun.
I asked her about my entrance, and what she thought. I have mentioned before that, if I could have a "superpower" it would be to read the minds of people when they first see me. I can't generally get an honest response, and I'd love to know what people think of Meg. Ugh? Wow? Guy? *yawn*?
I told this to the therapist. She said she thought I was another doctor's patient until I spoke to her. Then she recognised me from my photos. This, of course, is foreign behaviour to me. I'd never be able to identify someone from a picture I'd seen three weeks ago!
I talked about something that does trouble me a bit. I have thought about how I see myself in five and ten years. I believe most people would see a progression: moving up the ladder in five, running the department in ten; or downsizing in five and retiring and travelling in ten... something like that.
My career is stable. I expect to be working in ten years, doing what I'm doing now for some project or another. My home is a black hole: in five years, I'll be an empty nester, but my marriage is a house with a shaky foundation and I don't know if it's going to get shored up or fall down. It is, to me, an unknown.
But Meg.... I hope to be doing more things, have more experiences ~ greet the five year mark with more memories and more ideas as to what I want to do. Maybe I'll even find a regular Meg activity that I enjoy that I'll do weekly or monthly.
In ten years though.... Meg will be 68. I don't think Meg will be around in ten years. Although I think Meg looks somewhat younger than I do (and the therapist agreed but didn't attempt to put a number on it), I don't see myself as an elderly woman. If I didn't enjoy seeing Meg in the mirror, I wouldn't do the dressing. I think. But I do, and I don't think I want to see an old woman looking back at me.
Maybe ten years is an underestimate. I hope so. Or I may be wrong. I've noticed as I grow older, older women are more attractive to me. I do appreciate younger women as I did before, and I can easily imagine myself with someone, say, 21 years younger than me (yes, I border on the delusional). But I see more women well over 40 who I think look GREAT, especially those who dress GREAT. I admit I notice clothes before the wearer.
So maybe a 68 year old Meg will look 50 or so and I'll keep going. The 5/10 years is just a "look in the future" after all. It's no more an exact number than "forty" was in biblical stories (mostly it meant "a lot").
I know women live with growing older and losing their looks daily. But it's a gradual thing, and that's easier to understand and live with. I miss my hair, but it would have been worse if I woke up one morning with a bald pate. Gradual was better.
Meg is not continuous. Meg is a series of snapshots. Some of the images are months apart. I find it a bit scary.
This is all a detailed and roundabout way of saying, it means there's less of a Meg influence in my life now than I might think. I need to work on this.
I had mentioned to M earlier that a possible future is one without Meg. She brought this back up and said she can't imagine me being without something that's so big a part of my life. She also said she couldn't think of a comparable activity that other people get involved in. I agreed. I had done the same exercise.
My wife believes this is not a big part of my life. I have been doing stream-of-consciousness writing and one prompt Thalia offered me was based on something my wife said ~ that I can't love someone else if I don't love myself. My question to myself was, how can I love myself when I can't even BE myself? For the record, I need to write more on that one.
I also mentioned that my wife thinks I'm a narcissist, because I mentioned in one of our first couples' sessions that dressing has a "narcissistic component." I told M that my ego and self-esteem could fit in a medicine dropper. M said she maybe has a different definition of narcissism ~ someone who only talks about themselves. I said "well, look at us. All we ever talk about is me!" She said "And your wife!" and I said "only how it effects me."
A good point: I said when dressed I look in mirrors a LOT ~ she said "so do women." I also pointed out that I know exactly one t-gurl who does not have copious photos of herself. Some who consider themselves non-passing take pictures from the neck down.
I was reminded of an old Gary Shandling bit where he said his new girlfriend was too self-centered. "Everything is about her. I took her to dinner and she got too close to the candle on the table and her hair caught fire. She was all like 'I'M on fire! Put ME out!'"
 |
| Meg in therapy |
I wanted a photo in the office manager's chair ~ Meg at her new job. :) But she said there would be people in the office so I didn't ask. It would look weird. Even I could see that.
As I left, the people in the office looked, but had no comment. Since I planned to go out to dinner, I grabbed the ladies' room key and used the facilities before I left. This was a one-toilet room, no problems.
I saw no-one else as I walked to my car. I found the local Giant and parked a decent walk away. I try to leave closer spots for people who need them. Or are just narcissistic. :) I then noticed that the restaurant I was looking for was way at the far end of the shopping centre. So I started walking through the lot, past people who looked at me (I smiled back at the women) or who were lost in their own world. I walked past a Dress Barn but it was now 7 and I was more interested in eating than shopping. And I really truly am trying to downsize. I keep telling myself that.
The restaurant was closed. I walked back, past that Dress Barn which insisted I need a new dress. I stood firm and went to my car to get a reuseable grocery bag. As I walked up the parking lot aisle a football-player-looking man walked towards me. I had a moment of worry, then looked away, as I usually do with men anyway. He walked past and I got my bag.
I saw the man in the grocery store. I HAVE to stop worrying.
There was nothing unusual in the grocery store. I didn't interact with anyone until the checkout. I chatted with the cashier who I think almost said sir. What I heard was "How are you this evening, {pause} ma'am?" I kept up some chit-chat and she asked if I needed help with my (one!) bag. I smiled and said "I'm not that old yet" and she laughed.
Back home, as I said, I didn't change until after 11. And Thursday I slept right through the alarm. I didn't even hear it. I was having pleasant dreams and I guess they were loud and drowned out the alarm.
Last night I covered my son and picked up another pair of open-toed shoes. The wedges were a tad uncomfortable after a couple of hours. And I have to mark these earrings. The right one pinched my ear quite a bit. The pain of a tight clip-on earring is, in my opinion, unique.
I may go out tonight.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Therapy the Sixteenth
First, I don't know if I mentioned this, but the office I'm now in is officially designated as a military installation. That means access to general websites, including personal mail, is restricted. So I cannot publish comments until the evening now. Just sayin'.
Couples' therapy: no t-issues, and somewhat depressing. Every time I leave, I am more worried and anxious than the time before.
My individual therapy yesterday, however, was interesting.
I got home later than expected but not very late. My job involves people calling random meetings, usually for late in the day. So it's hard to plan things like Meg At Five.
I put on my black-and-white dress, some gold jewelry, and got to the office about fifteen minutes early.
The first appointment was earlier and the office manager was there along with another therapist and a couple of clients waiting. The second was late and the office was empty when I walked in. My therapist (M) said for late appointments like this, she gets her pick of offices since no-one else is about.
Wednesday, I showed up and saw a father and two young sons leaving. Inside, the office manager was there, another therapist, a young woman doing her intake paperwork, and a couple sitting at the other end of the waiting room. No-one paid any attention to me. I am still never sure if that's good or bad. I assume it's because no-one notices a woman over a certain age.
My therapist came out, looked at me, and invited the couple into her office. I was confused. I thought it very possible that I was mistaken and she wasn't my therapist. I've mentioned my face blindness. It rarely fails me.
For some reason, she came back out a minute later (the office was empty at this point) and I went up to her and said "I believe I have a five o'clock appointment with you." She denied the possibility, said she has a standing appointment with that couple. She asked if I would wait until 5:45, when they were done. I pointed out that she was running late and it would be 6, but I'd wait.
If I wasn't dressed, I wouldn't have waited. During the session, I mentioned this.
But I won't get into that now. Because I was an hour late, and I'm writing this at 11pm on Wednesday and it's long and getting longer (the post, not just this sentence) and I'm still Meg (yay!), I'll continue Friday.
But it was all good. Except the wait, but, hey, I was dressed.
Couples' therapy: no t-issues, and somewhat depressing. Every time I leave, I am more worried and anxious than the time before.
 |
| Before therapy |
I got home later than expected but not very late. My job involves people calling random meetings, usually for late in the day. So it's hard to plan things like Meg At Five.
I put on my black-and-white dress, some gold jewelry, and got to the office about fifteen minutes early.
The first appointment was earlier and the office manager was there along with another therapist and a couple of clients waiting. The second was late and the office was empty when I walked in. My therapist (M) said for late appointments like this, she gets her pick of offices since no-one else is about.
Wednesday, I showed up and saw a father and two young sons leaving. Inside, the office manager was there, another therapist, a young woman doing her intake paperwork, and a couple sitting at the other end of the waiting room. No-one paid any attention to me. I am still never sure if that's good or bad. I assume it's because no-one notices a woman over a certain age.
My therapist came out, looked at me, and invited the couple into her office. I was confused. I thought it very possible that I was mistaken and she wasn't my therapist. I've mentioned my face blindness. It rarely fails me.
For some reason, she came back out a minute later (the office was empty at this point) and I went up to her and said "I believe I have a five o'clock appointment with you." She denied the possibility, said she has a standing appointment with that couple. She asked if I would wait until 5:45, when they were done. I pointed out that she was running late and it would be 6, but I'd wait.
If I wasn't dressed, I wouldn't have waited. During the session, I mentioned this.
But I won't get into that now. Because I was an hour late, and I'm writing this at 11pm on Wednesday and it's long and getting longer (the post, not just this sentence) and I'm still Meg (yay!), I'll continue Friday.
But it was all good. Except the wait, but, hey, I was dressed.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Meg Day Afternoon
Yesterday I had my couples' therapy session.
Today, I have my individual therapy session.
Meg will attend. I will leave work shortly before 3 and be at my 5:00 session in a nice dress and heels.
I have a couple of reasons for doing this:
* I want her to experience Meg. I don't know how much interaction she's had with someone who regularly crossdresses. I know I'm a different woman now than I was when I first started going out. I want her to know Meg is real.
* I want to focus on the trans issue as it fits into the marriage. As I mentioned in my latest couples' therapy post, my wife asserted that I don't love myself. I thought about that a lot and I wonder how much I can love myself when part of me is hiding in that closet we mostly hate.
* I want to go out dressed to a new venue. :)
Today, I have my individual therapy session.
Meg will attend. I will leave work shortly before 3 and be at my 5:00 session in a nice dress and heels.
I have a couple of reasons for doing this:
* I want her to experience Meg. I don't know how much interaction she's had with someone who regularly crossdresses. I know I'm a different woman now than I was when I first started going out. I want her to know Meg is real.
* I want to focus on the trans issue as it fits into the marriage. As I mentioned in my latest couples' therapy post, my wife asserted that I don't love myself. I thought about that a lot and I wonder how much I can love myself when part of me is hiding in that closet we mostly hate.
* I want to go out dressed to a new venue. :)
Friday, July 6, 2012
Therapy the Fifteenth
We spent the first $35 catching up, which was pleasant enough. Then we got down to business and the pleasantness... vanishes.
My wife has decided we were "in love with the idea of each other," not with each other. She says the problem is mine: I don't love myself enough to love another. She accused me of not using my time to do the "hard work" repairing this relationship will require. This is without actually asking me what I've been doing. Or, for that matter, if I agreed with her diagnosis.
She also keeps repeating that I am taking a vacation from her, which is not what I'm doing. I've said many times, in many ways what I am doing. I think the best description I've come up with is, it's a retreat ~ a place where one can step back from life and look at the big picture and see how you'd like to fit into that picture and how you can make that happen.
All that said, I'm going to stop doing the couples' therapy posts, unless something occurs is relevant to this blog.
As it is, it's way too personal and way too depressing. No matter how she looks at the relationship at this point, I'm going to continue doing that hard work and I hope to write a wrap-up post when my gig is over ~ one with a happy ending.
I will write a bit about my individual therapy thing ~ there was no visit this week, but visit three will be next Wednesday. I hope to make it eventful.
I had a bit of "don't care" fun Wednesday and Thursday, and I'll write about those events next week. Please check out the funnies tomorrow and Sunday.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Yesterday....
I stopped at my "real" home to make dinner for my son and pick up a couple of things I needed ~ part of the "bills you have to pay for living yesterday."
I also picked up a big box of shoes. My toe is deemed "cured." I hope to make an appointment for next week to get my back waxed, brows waxed, a manicure, and, of course, a pedicure. And I picked up the last box with clothing in it. It is full of the rest of my skirts and the rest of my camis. I still have dozens of dresses at the house. I'm not sure if there's some meaning behind that.
I also saw my EAP therapist. We talked relationship; I brought up dressing. I explained the care-don't care continuum. I told her a possible outcome would be I lose Meg and we all live happily ever after. She seemed surprised that I would even consider that. So I explained "purging" and how it's pretty common among crossdressers. Except this would be more than just a purge. And there's a problem: I certainly wouldn't be the first t-girl who said "I can live without her" and was wrong. In fact, there's an incredibly slim possibility that I would be the first t-girl who said "I can live without her" and was right.
The therapist had an excellent idea: we (the wife and I) should sit down together and decide what we both want and how to get there.
Except I need to find myself first, I think.
Yes, I definitely need to do that.
I think.
I also picked up a big box of shoes. My toe is deemed "cured." I hope to make an appointment for next week to get my back waxed, brows waxed, a manicure, and, of course, a pedicure. And I picked up the last box with clothing in it. It is full of the rest of my skirts and the rest of my camis. I still have dozens of dresses at the house. I'm not sure if there's some meaning behind that.
I also saw my EAP therapist. We talked relationship; I brought up dressing. I explained the care-don't care continuum. I told her a possible outcome would be I lose Meg and we all live happily ever after. She seemed surprised that I would even consider that. So I explained "purging" and how it's pretty common among crossdressers. Except this would be more than just a purge. And there's a problem: I certainly wouldn't be the first t-girl who said "I can live without her" and was wrong. In fact, there's an incredibly slim possibility that I would be the first t-girl who said "I can live without her" and was right.
The therapist had an excellent idea: we (the wife and I) should sit down together and decide what we both want and how to get there.
Except I need to find myself first, I think.
Yes, I definitely need to do that.
I think.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Therapy the Fourteenth
The couples therapy was difficult. There's a scene in High Anxiety (if you haven't seen it, see it!) where someone is being kept in the violent ward of a psychiatric hospital, not because he's sick but because the criminal owners want to drain his bank account. In this scene Harvey Korman (the evil psychiatrist) is with Mel Brooks (the new head, here to clean it up) as he interviews the patient. The patient seems sane and normal to Mel, but every time he'd have his back turned Harvey did something to make the patient seem crazy.
I'm starting to feel that way in couples. We sit down as a family and things seem OK, even pleasant. Then it's just the two of us, or the two of us and the therapist, and everything's not OK.
It's difficult, because I want to maintain contact but she makes it very hard. As I mentioned yesterday, We spent some "us" time together after therapy, but I made sure that it was on a non-relationship level. We have always at least spoken on the phone every day, and we agreed to continue to do that, but as a "catch up" and "this is interesting" kind of level. I will delve into what's going on inside my mind only when it's positive.
I still expect positive. My individual therapy is today. After that, I will visit with my son while my wife is working and I will vanish before she comes home.
I'm starting to feel that way in couples. We sit down as a family and things seem OK, even pleasant. Then it's just the two of us, or the two of us and the therapist, and everything's not OK.
It's difficult, because I want to maintain contact but she makes it very hard. As I mentioned yesterday, We spent some "us" time together after therapy, but I made sure that it was on a non-relationship level. We have always at least spoken on the phone every day, and we agreed to continue to do that, but as a "catch up" and "this is interesting" kind of level. I will delve into what's going on inside my mind only when it's positive.
I still expect positive. My individual therapy is today. After that, I will visit with my son while my wife is working and I will vanish before she comes home.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Therapy the Thirteenth
Someone is mistaken. I'm getting a lot of mixed messages.
Monday, I saw an individual therapist, M. Sorry. I keep saying "therapist," as if she's her title. Let me call couples' therapist is A and my new sounding board is M.
I gave M my background, what's troubling me and my marriage right now, and I told her about my wanting a six months "sabbatical" and getting six weeks poured into my lap. Her comment: "yay!"
This is a little different than my wife's reaction. My wife has also been heaping on the guilt by telling me how I am "abandoning" my son and this will ruin his life. M said "well, if you just frame it as a six week housesitting trip, I don't think it'll do any damage."
(note: M suggested that my wife might be projecting the "abandoned" label on my son. That's probably on the mark. She feels each of her parents abandoned her, in different ways, at different times.)
That was my feeling as well, but I'm not very good at people so I try to rely on others for that. The big problem is, I can't rely on my wife because she's a stakeholder here. Mixed messages.
I think I understand what she feels. I don't think she understands what I feel. I think a break will be a literal lifesaver and a probable marriage saver.
The other interesting thing from Monday's session: after I told my tale, she asked if I was an introvert (admitted) and said maybe I can arrange some time alone inside the house, where I can recharge. Then I said "there's one more thing you need to know" and I handed her five pictures of Meg from various venues that I brought along. She looked at the pictures and said "I don't understand why you're showing me these." I was thinking of how to phrase my response and she said "who is this woman?" and I said "me. It's something I like to do." She said "I can see why... you're gorgeous."
We talked a bit about how I have to hide at home and how I can be a bit more open while housesitting and how her time at the beach is often an outlet for me ~ for Meg ~ but not this time because of reasons I told you all yesterday.
Surprisingly, she didn't ask if I planned to transition. Maybe she doesn't know enough to ask. If so, that may be a problem. She admitted to not knowing a lot about gender identity issues. I'm hoping she'll know a bit more before my next visit (which is still about a week away).
She also said that talking about "this" (I don't think she knows what to call it) seemed to make me genuinely happy. I didn't realise there was that big a difference in my demeanour, but I guess I'm not surprised.
One odd moment: I had told her that I have to hide all of this at home (which is why the in-house time-alone won't work well) and she said "how do you feel about hiding this?" Well Duh. But I put it down to therapist reflex. "I bought $20,000 worth of cheese." "How do you feel about spending $20,000 on cheese?"
On Tuesday I saw the couples therapist, A, alone.
I led the discussion. I asked her point-blank what she thought of my six-week plan. She said "I mentioned early on that maybe you need a separation to avoid a separation." I don't remember her saying this; when I recapped with my wife, she did remember. I told A how I felt my life and health were literally in jeopardy, and that I do understand the meaning of the word "literally."
A also agreed that framing this as "six weeks of housesitting" would be fine and not really bother our son. She suggested a "date night" (with my wife, not her) which I had also suggested to my wife. She was lukewarm, but she's also angry. The thought of my behaviour angering someone make me furious [ha ha] but it's really reached a point where I have to move myself to the front of the "care" line and hope I'm forgiven when it all shakes out.
That assumes I'm also doing the right thing. I'm not convinced. I'm also out of ideas.
I also showed her my little stack of photos. She knew who she was looking at; one picture was Meg and a friend and she asked who the friend was; I told her and gave her a bit of background. I also told her that my wife got very upset when I told her I wanted to meet with Rachel for coffee last weekend. I would not be dressed and Rachel is transitioning. To her, I'm "having coffee with a woman" which is a big hooray! for Rachel, but kind of incomprehensible to me.
Oh... A also pronounced me "pretty" and mentioned a couple of pictures she really liked. One accompanies this post. Until I looked at the pictures myself, I didn't realise I was in four different states for those five photos!
Friday, we meet with A again, ostensibly to discuss telling my son about my time out. No, I haven't told him yet, at my wife's request/demand. She said "not before school ends so he can focus on his work" and "not before vacation so he can enjoy it" and then her plan was to keep him away until I was out of the house. When was I supposed to tell him? Beats me. But she also said she's not going to do it ~ it's up to me.
Yes, she makes this easier and easier. Yes, I am being sarcastic.
Monday, I saw an individual therapist, M. Sorry. I keep saying "therapist," as if she's her title. Let me call couples' therapist is A and my new sounding board is M.
 |
| Pretty? Wow. March, 2008, one of my first solo outings |
This is a little different than my wife's reaction. My wife has also been heaping on the guilt by telling me how I am "abandoning" my son and this will ruin his life. M said "well, if you just frame it as a six week housesitting trip, I don't think it'll do any damage."
(note: M suggested that my wife might be projecting the "abandoned" label on my son. That's probably on the mark. She feels each of her parents abandoned her, in different ways, at different times.)
That was my feeling as well, but I'm not very good at people so I try to rely on others for that. The big problem is, I can't rely on my wife because she's a stakeholder here. Mixed messages.
I think I understand what she feels. I don't think she understands what I feel. I think a break will be a literal lifesaver and a probable marriage saver.
The other interesting thing from Monday's session: after I told my tale, she asked if I was an introvert (admitted) and said maybe I can arrange some time alone inside the house, where I can recharge. Then I said "there's one more thing you need to know" and I handed her five pictures of Meg from various venues that I brought along. She looked at the pictures and said "I don't understand why you're showing me these." I was thinking of how to phrase my response and she said "who is this woman?" and I said "me. It's something I like to do." She said "I can see why... you're gorgeous."
We talked a bit about how I have to hide at home and how I can be a bit more open while housesitting and how her time at the beach is often an outlet for me ~ for Meg ~ but not this time because of reasons I told you all yesterday.
Surprisingly, she didn't ask if I planned to transition. Maybe she doesn't know enough to ask. If so, that may be a problem. She admitted to not knowing a lot about gender identity issues. I'm hoping she'll know a bit more before my next visit (which is still about a week away).
She also said that talking about "this" (I don't think she knows what to call it) seemed to make me genuinely happy. I didn't realise there was that big a difference in my demeanour, but I guess I'm not surprised.
One odd moment: I had told her that I have to hide all of this at home (which is why the in-house time-alone won't work well) and she said "how do you feel about hiding this?" Well Duh. But I put it down to therapist reflex. "I bought $20,000 worth of cheese." "How do you feel about spending $20,000 on cheese?"
On Tuesday I saw the couples therapist, A, alone.
I led the discussion. I asked her point-blank what she thought of my six-week plan. She said "I mentioned early on that maybe you need a separation to avoid a separation." I don't remember her saying this; when I recapped with my wife, she did remember. I told A how I felt my life and health were literally in jeopardy, and that I do understand the meaning of the word "literally."
A also agreed that framing this as "six weeks of housesitting" would be fine and not really bother our son. She suggested a "date night" (with my wife, not her) which I had also suggested to my wife. She was lukewarm, but she's also angry. The thought of my behaviour angering someone make me furious [ha ha] but it's really reached a point where I have to move myself to the front of the "care" line and hope I'm forgiven when it all shakes out.
That assumes I'm also doing the right thing. I'm not convinced. I'm also out of ideas.
I also showed her my little stack of photos. She knew who she was looking at; one picture was Meg and a friend and she asked who the friend was; I told her and gave her a bit of background. I also told her that my wife got very upset when I told her I wanted to meet with Rachel for coffee last weekend. I would not be dressed and Rachel is transitioning. To her, I'm "having coffee with a woman" which is a big hooray! for Rachel, but kind of incomprehensible to me.
Oh... A also pronounced me "pretty" and mentioned a couple of pictures she really liked. One accompanies this post. Until I looked at the pictures myself, I didn't realise I was in four different states for those five photos!
Friday, we meet with A again, ostensibly to discuss telling my son about my time out. No, I haven't told him yet, at my wife's request/demand. She said "not before school ends so he can focus on his work" and "not before vacation so he can enjoy it" and then her plan was to keep him away until I was out of the house. When was I supposed to tell him? Beats me. But she also said she's not going to do it ~ it's up to me.
Yes, she makes this easier and easier. Yes, I am being sarcastic.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Therapy the Twelfth
These posts are really getting harder to write. I know what I want to say but Thalia isn't helping me put what's inside into words.
When I started therapy, I came to realise that there are problems at home, and I observed that they're not T-related. I wondered, if things got worse, if this would be a rare T-relationship that failed but not because of T-issues.
I also noted that there is no "not T-related." It's always there and always big.
I just bounce from wrong to wrong to wrong.
There are problems that have nothing to do with crossdressing. They have nothing to do with unrealised transsexualism, or unremembered sexual abuse, or my narcissism, or my being ignored by my parents as a child, any of the other nonexistant issues my wife brought up during various sessions.
I think it's really quite simple. This could be my next wrong. I don't know yet.
I'm doing quite well, thank you. I'm not rich, but I make a living. There is no serious illness in my family; never has been. My boys are doing fine and have never been in serious trouble (I emphasise "serious"). My job is sort of stable, but even if it wasn't I probably have other opportunities waiting in the wings.
I regularly count my blessings, as corny as that sounds.
I should be happy.
And here's my problem: I'm not. I'm sad. I'm sad pretty much all the time. And I don't want to be sad.
It is, as I said, simple. I wish I knew the solution. I think time to think would help. I know I wrote about this a few weeks ago. My wife still thinks that's a bad idea.
I really need time to figure this out. Maybe a year at the top of a mountain in Tibet or somewhere would help.
Friday, June 8, 2012
Therapy the Eleventh
It was a very busy hour, but it didn't seem like things are moving forward. It was more like an hour of deja vu.
My wife repeated her fear that something horrible will happen to me when I'm dressed. I reiterated that (a) it's a rare occurrance and probably more dangerous to get in my car every day and (b) I am cautious. I think she knows I don't have a reputation as a daredevil, so why does she think I would take unnecessary chances while dressed?
But along with her fears is the recognised but unacknowledged next step: to make her feel better I need to not go out. In reality, it's her problem but I have to take action to solve it. Perhaps she needs separate therapy to help her overcome her fears.
She also repeated (several times) her feeling that the origins of my dressing are suspect. I contend that the origins aren't important ~ it's here and I enjoy it.
It's looking more and more as if we're not going to come to any sort of understanding on the T part of my life.
She can't even admit that she tries to discourage me from going out every time: it's nothing overt, it's a litany of all of the things that can go wrong (in her mind). She seems to think that not only have I not thought of these things, but that she knows more about girls who have been assaulted or killed because of t-phobia than I do.
She can't even admit that she tries to discourage me from going out every time: it's nothing overt, it's a litany of all of the things that can go wrong (in her mind). She seems to think that not only have I not thought of these things, but that she knows more about girls who have been assaulted or killed because of t-phobia than I do.
I'm not sure of a way forward that'll be satisfying to both of us.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Therapy the Tenth
After I brought up going on my expedition this weekend, my wife's main response was "we'll bring this up on Tuesday." My unspoken thought was "do I need permission from the therapist?"
Much of the hour was spent on t-issues. My wife professes to worry about me, because bad things do happen to us, but it's more, I think, about her. She said she was worried about something happening to me, although in this instance, I'd be part of a group I'd even feel comfortable coming out to. But her first comment was "it's on the campus where our son goes to school. They'll see your name. They'll know his name." Which is baloney: except coincidentally, there will not be teachers or classmates, and I'd try and get credentials that say "Meg," not my male name.
She did ask if I ever worried, and I admitted I did ~ so I did as much as I could to mitigate problems. Whenever possible, I scope out the area first. I avoid iffy areas or unfriendly natives. I also said I was much more nervous when I first started going out than I am now.... I'm in more familiar territory. Stana said much the same in yesterday's post. She said she's worried about going to her law school reunion because it's unchartered territory.
My wife was also concerned that I'd run into people I know. I said that could happen, but I could also avoid those people if necessary. Between us, I wasn't planning on avoiding people I know. Some are peers, some are well-known.
A few of odd points:
My wife kept wanting to go back to the "origin" of my dressing. I told her I didn't care what the origins are. I spent a lot of time thinking about it and reading about it and decided it's unimportant. She feels otherwise.
She also kept going back to my "shame" at dressing up. She firmly believes I do this so I can be humiliated and laughed at by others. She said "how do you know people aren't laughing behind your back?" I said "either they are and I don't hear them so for me it's not happening, or they're not and it's not happening. Either way, the result is the same and I don't lose sleep over it." I said "and if I decided I wanted to play golf instead of dress up, you'd think I did it so I could be humiliated by hitting balls into water hazards and shamed when I miss four-foot putts."
And, more troubling to me than any of the t-items, the therapist asked if I ever worried about her. I said I did, and I gave several examples and my wife said "I'm not sure I believe him." I asked several different ways, to make sure she knew what she was saying and how I was taking it. She stayed with it.
There has always been trust. Now I'm not so sure. Eventually I said sarcastically, "I understand because I lie constantly."
I find that very troubling.
Notes on the weekend: first, in yesterday's post I meant the doctor removed half of my toenail, not toe. And I forgot one other item that worried me: I don't know what people wear to this. I suspect it's business casual.
I also think it is possible I will be more out than I plan. I also expect there to be newspaper coverage there.
It is an Event.
It is an Event.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Therapy the Ninth
I observed that the therapy sessions have turned into refereed arguments. We disagree a lot, but we don't really argue ~ except every Tuesday for an hour.
In what has become a rarity, my wife agreed with this assessment.
We also agreed that neither of us thought about ending the marriage until the therapy sessions started. I didn't think that was supposed to happen.
T-issues have fallen off the table, because there are bigger issues here. Yet in spite of all that's going on, the therapist tried to bring it back around to t-issues. I was very confused ~ I didn't see that as at all relevant.
Something, maybe some things, need to stop.
In other news, I'm settling into my new job although it took almost two weeks to get my computer and access and everything necessary so I can do something useful in exchange for a salary. And Dani made a good point about why the card has to stay in the computer but come with me when I leave ~ computers should not be unattended and unlocked. But I've gotten into the habit of hitting that little flag key and L which locks the screen. And I bet most of you do the three-finger-salute (ctrl-alt-del) and select lock. Look up "windows key shortcuts" and you'll find a handful of things that little key does to save yourself a few seconds a day ~but of course Microsoft turns those seconds into hours and takes them away again with reboots, hangs, and other inconveniences.
Life in the 21st century.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Therapy the Ninth
Therapy was cancelled due to the death of my wife's mother early Tuesday morning.
Services will prevent my attending the congressional district convention on Saturday. I believe I can still attend the state convention, but I lose out on this opportunity.
Services will prevent my attending the congressional district convention on Saturday. I believe I can still attend the state convention, but I lose out on this opportunity.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Therapy the Eighth
There are a couple of preliminaries here. First please check out yesterday's post and take the poll.
And second, before I get into this week, I want to address a private message I received on last week's therapy post.
The writer pointed out that a win-win in the baby scenario would have involved my wife expressing milk for later consumption. I guess I was unclear: neither baby was ever interested in a bottle. It didn't matter if it had formula, mom's milk, hummingbird nectar, or fine wine. And no, we didn't try those all of those things.
The other point where I was unclear was about the three hours of screaming ~ he did that when he was hungry. Other than that he was pretty quiet, mostly busy trying to figure out the world. My wife rarely had to handle a screaming child. I don't begrudge her that ~ she had to put up with night feedings which I never had to (could) do. The point was, I lacked the thinking time I needed.
On to this week....
This was another session that did not touch on t-issues at all. Right now, everything's taking a back burner because on Tuesday her family was suddenly faced with trying to come to a consensus about what her mother would want: with no intervention she'll have about a week of life remaining.
It's a difficult time all around.
And second, before I get into this week, I want to address a private message I received on last week's therapy post.
The writer pointed out that a win-win in the baby scenario would have involved my wife expressing milk for later consumption. I guess I was unclear: neither baby was ever interested in a bottle. It didn't matter if it had formula, mom's milk, hummingbird nectar, or fine wine. And no, we didn't try those all of those things.
The other point where I was unclear was about the three hours of screaming ~ he did that when he was hungry. Other than that he was pretty quiet, mostly busy trying to figure out the world. My wife rarely had to handle a screaming child. I don't begrudge her that ~ she had to put up with night feedings which I never had to (could) do. The point was, I lacked the thinking time I needed.
On to this week....
This was another session that did not touch on t-issues at all. Right now, everything's taking a back burner because on Tuesday her family was suddenly faced with trying to come to a consensus about what her mother would want: with no intervention she'll have about a week of life remaining.
It's a difficult time all around.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Therapy the Seventh
First, please go back to Friday's post and then take the poll to the right. Honestly, I keep changing my mind about what I'd want to do.
Things are happening both within and between sessions.
Story time:
When my first son was a few months old, my wife went back to work. We "tag teamed" ~ I'd come home, we'd have dinner, she'd go to work. She'd be gone three or more hours.
I'd hold a screaming baby the entire time. That was my evening.
I sang, I danced him around, we went for walks (pushes) if the weather was good but he spent his time screaming. He didn't want dad. He wanted food. Dad didn't have any food he wanted.
I held him, he screamed. (note: our relationship has improved since then.) My wife would come home, pull out the milk containers she conveniently carried around at all times and he would be happy again.
In hindsight, I see that there were two possible scenarios:
* I could hold a screaming baby whilst trying to calm him down (impossible until he discovered solid food).
The result: two unhappy people.
* I could put down the screaming baby and do something else, like enjoy life.
The result: one unhappy person.
There could not be a "two happy people" outcome. But I never thought of putting him down. I never had time to think about a solution. All I had time to do was get screamed at.
Right now, my wife and I have nice chats with my (younger, still at home) son. He's old enough and smart enough and wise-guy enough to be enjoyable.
Then he leaves the room, and my wife steers the conversation to relationship. We no longer actually talk; I feel like when he walks out of the room I'm left with the screaming baby. I can't think, I can't figure out what's wrong and what's right and how to get from wrong to right. All I get is pummeled with new information, new problems, new issues.
There's no literal screaming, but I'm being screamed at ~ no thinking time.
Last Saturday, my wife suggested she should move out, get an apartment near the kid's school, and leave me in the house. We have two different ideas though, as came out in therapy: she thinks separating equals end. I think separating equals time without the screaming baby so I can THINK.
There are two problems though, and if she leaves me in the house only one is solved. There's still the elephant in the room ~ my dressing.
Even if I'm left alone, I can't dress. My college son comes and goes as he pleases. Every time I go out, there's a risk neighbors will see me. They can't miss my car. I told my wife if I'm going to stay in the house alone I have to tell my oldest son about Meg. I don't want him dropping by to what's still his house and getting a surprise.
A better solution would be for me to find an apartment right across from my new job. There are townhomes and apartment buildings a short walk from the offices. I can tell or not tell neighbors ~ she's out of the loop so she won't be embarrassed. I can keep everything contained in one bedroom so when the boy(s) are over they don't see evidence of Meg.
She sees this not as an opportunity to see if I can get back what's been lost, but as an opportunity for her to not have to drive so far to bring our son to school.
I want to work on the relationship, but I don't have time or space.
I don't think things are ending. I do think things are changing.
Half a solution is no solution. I think I have the right answer, but I'm not sure she understands that half a solution isn't going to help.
I'm worried about the future.
Things are happening both within and between sessions.
Story time:
When my first son was a few months old, my wife went back to work. We "tag teamed" ~ I'd come home, we'd have dinner, she'd go to work. She'd be gone three or more hours.
I'd hold a screaming baby the entire time. That was my evening.
I sang, I danced him around, we went for walks (pushes) if the weather was good but he spent his time screaming. He didn't want dad. He wanted food. Dad didn't have any food he wanted.
I held him, he screamed. (note: our relationship has improved since then.) My wife would come home, pull out the milk containers she conveniently carried around at all times and he would be happy again.
In hindsight, I see that there were two possible scenarios:
* I could hold a screaming baby whilst trying to calm him down (impossible until he discovered solid food).
The result: two unhappy people.
* I could put down the screaming baby and do something else, like enjoy life.
The result: one unhappy person.
There could not be a "two happy people" outcome. But I never thought of putting him down. I never had time to think about a solution. All I had time to do was get screamed at.
Right now, my wife and I have nice chats with my (younger, still at home) son. He's old enough and smart enough and wise-guy enough to be enjoyable.
Then he leaves the room, and my wife steers the conversation to relationship. We no longer actually talk; I feel like when he walks out of the room I'm left with the screaming baby. I can't think, I can't figure out what's wrong and what's right and how to get from wrong to right. All I get is pummeled with new information, new problems, new issues.
There's no literal screaming, but I'm being screamed at ~ no thinking time.
Last Saturday, my wife suggested she should move out, get an apartment near the kid's school, and leave me in the house. We have two different ideas though, as came out in therapy: she thinks separating equals end. I think separating equals time without the screaming baby so I can THINK.
There are two problems though, and if she leaves me in the house only one is solved. There's still the elephant in the room ~ my dressing.
Even if I'm left alone, I can't dress. My college son comes and goes as he pleases. Every time I go out, there's a risk neighbors will see me. They can't miss my car. I told my wife if I'm going to stay in the house alone I have to tell my oldest son about Meg. I don't want him dropping by to what's still his house and getting a surprise.
A better solution would be for me to find an apartment right across from my new job. There are townhomes and apartment buildings a short walk from the offices. I can tell or not tell neighbors ~ she's out of the loop so she won't be embarrassed. I can keep everything contained in one bedroom so when the boy(s) are over they don't see evidence of Meg.
She sees this not as an opportunity to see if I can get back what's been lost, but as an opportunity for her to not have to drive so far to bring our son to school.
I want to work on the relationship, but I don't have time or space.
I don't think things are ending. I do think things are changing.
Half a solution is no solution. I think I have the right answer, but I'm not sure she understands that half a solution isn't going to help.
I'm worried about the future.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Therapy the Break
The therapist is off this week.
I don't know if others have had the same experience, but I can no longer have conversations with my wife. Maybe it's because she's a therapist, but now every talk turns to something psychological or relationship-related. I know relationships take work, but it's reaching the pecked-to-death-by-ducks phase. It's starting to get to the point where I don't want to say anything because it'll get turned into something good she's trying to do/something I should be doing/how everyone we know has the same "relationship dynamics"/what we're doing wrong with the kids/what was done wrong when we were kids/etc/etc.
There's a lot of turmoil, and it's very stressful and I need to find some sort of equilibrium so I can calm down a bit and maybe sleep better.
Towards that end, on Monday I resigned from my current job.
Did everybody just groan or is that my imagination?
I don't know if others have had the same experience, but I can no longer have conversations with my wife. Maybe it's because she's a therapist, but now every talk turns to something psychological or relationship-related. I know relationships take work, but it's reaching the pecked-to-death-by-ducks phase. It's starting to get to the point where I don't want to say anything because it'll get turned into something good she's trying to do/something I should be doing/how everyone we know has the same "relationship dynamics"/what we're doing wrong with the kids/what was done wrong when we were kids/etc/etc.
There's a lot of turmoil, and it's very stressful and I need to find some sort of equilibrium so I can calm down a bit and maybe sleep better.
Towards that end, on Monday I resigned from my current job.
Did everybody just groan or is that my imagination?
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