Getting used to the new normal
I recently caught up with a friend I hadn't seen in eight years. We caught up on things great and small over the course of a few hours. She had been reading my blogs, so she knew what had been going on in my life this year. After filling in some of the blanks, she said that I seemed to be doing OK these days. Maybe I am.
Though I still have my moments, I am overwhelmed less often. Sharp pains have given away to dull aches. With the house sale and packing everything away in storage, there are less tangible things to bring feelings to the forefront. I am able to share more of my story with friends without fear of breaking down. Though I find some solace in doing this writing, talking things through with people I care about has been a blessing.
I am making my way across the chart and through the five stages of grief and loss. I am doing them a little out of order, pushing anger to the later stages of my journey. What I am feeling right now doesn't feel quite like bitterness or anger. The best I can describe my current state is a feeling of being a little ripped off.
I feel like being married means you take the relationship commitment more seriously, and that you must make every effort before throwing up your hands in futility. I don't feel like we made that effort, but I also understand our perceptions of what went on are quite different. I still struggle with understanding how we got here, and why we couldn't turn the ship around, but I am beginning to accept that I may never get any clarity from J. I will of course continue to stumble my way toward finding meaning, new and old, in what has transpired.
J and I speak less and less often. Our conversations have been centered around the details of the house sale and the paperwork of separation and divorce. As those things have been checked off, the things that force contact are fading away. After talking to each other on the day the house sold, we didn't have any contact for more than three weeks.
We are still friendly when we do speak, but of course it has been somewhat stilted and awkward. We stick to discussing what we have to, and a little about work and our dog. We don't just call each other up to catch up on things, which is understandable. There is only so much I want to hear about her new life, but the silence still takes getting used to.
The few women I have dated in the past have all been people I worked with. There was no physical separation after a breakup as we had to see each other the next day (and the next...). J now lives two states away. I initially wanted her to stay in town, but the distance between us is making it easier to move forward. But again, it seems wrong on some level to now be out of touch after 7-8 years of marriage, especially when we are still friendly.
Once the final details are worked out, I don't know how much contact there will be, if any. I imagine we both need time off each other's grid to figure things out and build new lives for ourselves. When some time has passed, there may be calls, e-mails or visits, but not right now. For now this is the new normal, right or wrong.
Hiding from the holidays
I am kind of skipping Christmas this year. My heart just isn't in it this time.
Several people have said the first round of holidays after separation/divorce are the worst. To be honest, I think last year was worse. Last year we had just started counseling, and I was just realizing how bad things were. J was out of town spending Christmas week with her Mom. It was more than just time with Mom though, it was time away from me to think.
Spending Christmas without J was tough. I had all of my family with me, but there was a cloud in the room as well. I was the only one who knew what was going on, stuck making excuses why J wasn't there. It was a plausible story, but it wasn't the whole story. Though there was plenty of love and joy in the room, I was left with a knot in my stomach and my mind elsewhere.
When J and I met a few days after Christmas to exchange gifts, it felt forced and there was little joy. The one gift I gave her that had any sentimental value fell flat. We went through the motions but couldn't pretend that it was anything like Christmas' of the past.
This year, Christmas feels a little like a non-event. I've dug out my favorite Christmas CDs, but I can't seem to put them in the player. I haven't watched any Christmas movies either. My heart isn't in it, and it would feel like I was going through the motions again. It is less of a feeling of pain this year, and more a feeling of emptiness.
I will be spending the day with my wonderful immediate and extended family, and I am sure it will be a lovely day. But next year will be different, better. I will find the Christmas spirit again. I will find new joy in the season.
I am not looking for anyone to step in and try to make this Christmas special. I would rather let this Christmas go by a little unnoticed. I think I just need a pass this year.
Several people have said the first round of holidays after separation/divorce are the worst. To be honest, I think last year was worse. Last year we had just started counseling, and I was just realizing how bad things were. J was out of town spending Christmas week with her Mom. It was more than just time with Mom though, it was time away from me to think.
Spending Christmas without J was tough. I had all of my family with me, but there was a cloud in the room as well. I was the only one who knew what was going on, stuck making excuses why J wasn't there. It was a plausible story, but it wasn't the whole story. Though there was plenty of love and joy in the room, I was left with a knot in my stomach and my mind elsewhere.
When J and I met a few days after Christmas to exchange gifts, it felt forced and there was little joy. The one gift I gave her that had any sentimental value fell flat. We went through the motions but couldn't pretend that it was anything like Christmas' of the past.
This year, Christmas feels a little like a non-event. I've dug out my favorite Christmas CDs, but I can't seem to put them in the player. I haven't watched any Christmas movies either. My heart isn't in it, and it would feel like I was going through the motions again. It is less of a feeling of pain this year, and more a feeling of emptiness.
I will be spending the day with my wonderful immediate and extended family, and I am sure it will be a lovely day. But next year will be different, better. I will find the Christmas spirit again. I will find new joy in the season.
I am not looking for anyone to step in and try to make this Christmas special. I would rather let this Christmas go by a little unnoticed. I think I just need a pass this year.
Miracle Drug
I want a trip inside your head
Spend the day there...
To hear the things you havent said
And see what you might see
I wanna hear you when you call
Do you feel anything at all?
I wanna see your thoughts take shape
And walk right out
Freedom has a scent
like the top of a new born baby's head
The songs are in your eyes
I see them when you smile
I’ve seen enough I'm not giving up
On a miracle drug
Of science and the human heart
There is no limit
There is no failure here sweetheart
Just when you quit...
~ by U2
Spend the day there...
To hear the things you havent said
And see what you might see
I wanna hear you when you call
Do you feel anything at all?
I wanna see your thoughts take shape
And walk right out
Freedom has a scent
like the top of a new born baby's head
The songs are in your eyes
I see them when you smile
I’ve seen enough I'm not giving up
On a miracle drug
Of science and the human heart
There is no limit
There is no failure here sweetheart
Just when you quit...
~ by U2
Marriage counseling wrap up
So, after four months of marriage counseling, what did I walk away with? Was it worth it? Was it a waste of time?
As far as the saving or improving the marriage goes, it clearly failed. When we started counseling, the goal was to improve our communication and relationship. On some level, our communication improved, if not our relationship.
As I detailed in my last post, our counselor was a poor one and I should have insisted we start over with someone else. She seemed more interested in moving me along the five stages of acceptance than in working to save the marriage. We could have picked a better guide, but there were clear benefits to seeing someone. We shared a fair amount of what had been on our minds - our wishes, our frustrations, our misunderstandings.
As I have also mentioned, we both went into counseling believing I shouldered much of the blame for our arriving on this doorstep. What we found is that we had both done things that made things more difficult in our relationship. My habit is to always look to my own actions before placing blame on others, and I don't forgive myself very easily. While I found no absolution in counseling, I did find some perspective on my role. I am walking away with plenty of guilt feelings, but nothing near what I would have if we hadn't had these discussions.
Something my personal counselor mentioned - it isn't uncommon for partners to switch roles during counseling. J asked for counseling and I was initially resistant. Once the ball was rolling, however, I opened up and she pulled back. I was all for digging into the issues and trying to find solutions. J seemed less and less interested as the weeks passed.
J later confided that when she asked for counseling last November, if I had said no she was going to leave. Apparently she had already been mourning the death of our marriage for some time, and I'm guessing it had taken time to screw up the courage to confront me. When I said yes to counseling, her face showed disappointment. She said it was shock, in that she never expected I would say yes. But I think that she had built herself up for this moment of truth, and by saying yes it threw her.
In the end, our counseling seemed to be one long exit interview. The type where your employer goes through your good and bad points, but dances around the real issue of why you are being let go.
But it wasn't a waste of time. Though we did not save the marriage, I'm better for having gone through counseling. Our marriage counselor was pretty poor, and I wish we had someone else guiding us through the process. But in the end, as far as saving the marriage, it probably didn't matter who we went to. We started counseling too late. It is my belief that J's mind was all but made by the time we began discussing our issues. Of course like lots of other thing written here, this is mostly speculation.
But I am not embittered against counseling. I think it can be extremely helpful and would recommend it to anyone interested. Of course that recommendation comes with the caution to chose your guide carefully, and to be willing to start over with someone else if necessary.
As far as the saving or improving the marriage goes, it clearly failed. When we started counseling, the goal was to improve our communication and relationship. On some level, our communication improved, if not our relationship.
As I detailed in my last post, our counselor was a poor one and I should have insisted we start over with someone else. She seemed more interested in moving me along the five stages of acceptance than in working to save the marriage. We could have picked a better guide, but there were clear benefits to seeing someone. We shared a fair amount of what had been on our minds - our wishes, our frustrations, our misunderstandings.
As I have also mentioned, we both went into counseling believing I shouldered much of the blame for our arriving on this doorstep. What we found is that we had both done things that made things more difficult in our relationship. My habit is to always look to my own actions before placing blame on others, and I don't forgive myself very easily. While I found no absolution in counseling, I did find some perspective on my role. I am walking away with plenty of guilt feelings, but nothing near what I would have if we hadn't had these discussions.
Something my personal counselor mentioned - it isn't uncommon for partners to switch roles during counseling. J asked for counseling and I was initially resistant. Once the ball was rolling, however, I opened up and she pulled back. I was all for digging into the issues and trying to find solutions. J seemed less and less interested as the weeks passed.
J later confided that when she asked for counseling last November, if I had said no she was going to leave. Apparently she had already been mourning the death of our marriage for some time, and I'm guessing it had taken time to screw up the courage to confront me. When I said yes to counseling, her face showed disappointment. She said it was shock, in that she never expected I would say yes. But I think that she had built herself up for this moment of truth, and by saying yes it threw her.
In the end, our counseling seemed to be one long exit interview. The type where your employer goes through your good and bad points, but dances around the real issue of why you are being let go.
But it wasn't a waste of time. Though we did not save the marriage, I'm better for having gone through counseling. Our marriage counselor was pretty poor, and I wish we had someone else guiding us through the process. But in the end, as far as saving the marriage, it probably didn't matter who we went to. We started counseling too late. It is my belief that J's mind was all but made by the time we began discussing our issues. Of course like lots of other thing written here, this is mostly speculation.
But I am not embittered against counseling. I think it can be extremely helpful and would recommend it to anyone interested. Of course that recommendation comes with the caution to chose your guide carefully, and to be willing to start over with someone else if necessary.
Marriage counseling report card - part two
So, the negative side of marriage counseling with Linda These are some of the things she said and did that made things more difficult, rather than improving the situation.
Pretty early on, Linda said that the purpose of our counseling wasn't to save the marriage. This perplexed and confused me. Why on earth were we meeting each week, turning over rocks, airing our dirty laundry if saving the marriage wasn't our end goal.
Linda told me she didn't think I was sincere in making changes. This was also pretty early on, before we had spent a whole lot of time together. She seemed to think I was just making empty promises to do whatever J asked. I challenged this, but she stuck to the opinion that I was basically full of shit. This only improved somewhat as the weeks went by.
Linda told me I was angry. Didn't ask, but rather told me. When I said I wasn't, she challenged me, provoked me. I was depressed, despondent, hurt, sad - but I was months and months away from approaching angry. One thing that will make me angry is for someone to tell me how I feel. We went back and forth and she wouldn't it go. I finally said if I was truly angry, and living in denial, that this was a topic to be taken up with my personal counselor.
We were talking about our different views of the separation. J felt she needed the space to work on her own things, and I was supportive. That being said, I planned on things working out in the end and that she would be coming home. I think Linda asked why I hoped/expected that she would be coming home. I talked about my feelings, got a bit emotional, and wrapped up by saying she is "my wife". Linda jumped all over "wife" saying that J and I might have different ideas of what "wife" meant. She implied that I expected J to be home doing my laundry and cooking me turkey-pot-pie. Frustrated that she thought I was a stereotype husband from the 50's, I explained (as best as I could) that what “my wife” means to me is that she is the woman I love, the woman I plan to share the rest of my life with, and the woman I would do anything to make happy – even if it was to my own personal detriment right now. She backpedaled, but it was clear what she thought of me.
There was no question I was upset about how things were going in counseling and our marriage. Linda told me she thought that I was despondent because I thought I could never find happiness again, rather than being upset about my marriage to J ending. We went back and forth a bit, not getting very far. I finally said "if I have to make a stupid comparison, I will. If my dog died, I can imagine having another dog sometime in the future and being happy, but it doesn't mean I wouldn't be absolutely crushed if she died." There were a lot of times I had to explain what I meant by making stupid-simple comparisons.
At one point Linda made J say that she didn't love me. J resisted, saying that wasn't true. I think the point Linda was trying to make was that J didn't have romantic feelings. As this was going on, tears began to well in my eyes. Linda's focus snapped to me and she said "why are you crying?" before the first tear fell. Not "how does that make you feel" or "what is going through your mind", but "why are you crying." Then she said I was overreacting. Early on in counseling, she said emotions aren't right or wrong, they just "are" and we need to learn how to manage and express them. Now she is telling me my emotions are wrong after she did her best to stir them up.
Then in our last session, she said that maybe J and I should be satisfied with a marriage where we don't talk all that much. All through this process, and even before we started, better communication was emphasized. We weren't really talking, and counseling was supposed to help solve this. After twelve weeks of digging up the past and present, we were doing much better. Then in our last session, Linda said "Just be happy with what made you miserable before."
There were other issues, but this is plenty to give an impression of what kind of counselor she was. Basically she thought I was insincere, unable to recognize (or admit) anger, a Neanderthal husband, incapable of future happiness, and after encouraging us to express emotion she criticized me when I did. I pushed back on several of these topics, but I didn't want our sessions turning into argument matches between me and the counselor, rather than working on our marriage.
Of course if I had to do it all over again, I would have changed counselors. We did talk about it part of the way through, but at the time I felt like keeping J in counseling was tenuous. I stuck it out for the general benefit it was providing, and tried to defend/explain myself while keeping the confrontation to a minimum.
Next, my final grade on the value of counseling, and what it meant to our marriage.
Pretty early on, Linda said that the purpose of our counseling wasn't to save the marriage. This perplexed and confused me. Why on earth were we meeting each week, turning over rocks, airing our dirty laundry if saving the marriage wasn't our end goal.
Linda told me she didn't think I was sincere in making changes. This was also pretty early on, before we had spent a whole lot of time together. She seemed to think I was just making empty promises to do whatever J asked. I challenged this, but she stuck to the opinion that I was basically full of shit. This only improved somewhat as the weeks went by.
Linda told me I was angry. Didn't ask, but rather told me. When I said I wasn't, she challenged me, provoked me. I was depressed, despondent, hurt, sad - but I was months and months away from approaching angry. One thing that will make me angry is for someone to tell me how I feel. We went back and forth and she wouldn't it go. I finally said if I was truly angry, and living in denial, that this was a topic to be taken up with my personal counselor.
We were talking about our different views of the separation. J felt she needed the space to work on her own things, and I was supportive. That being said, I planned on things working out in the end and that she would be coming home. I think Linda asked why I hoped/expected that she would be coming home. I talked about my feelings, got a bit emotional, and wrapped up by saying she is "my wife". Linda jumped all over "wife" saying that J and I might have different ideas of what "wife" meant. She implied that I expected J to be home doing my laundry and cooking me turkey-pot-pie. Frustrated that she thought I was a stereotype husband from the 50's, I explained (as best as I could) that what “my wife” means to me is that she is the woman I love, the woman I plan to share the rest of my life with, and the woman I would do anything to make happy – even if it was to my own personal detriment right now. She backpedaled, but it was clear what she thought of me.
There was no question I was upset about how things were going in counseling and our marriage. Linda told me she thought that I was despondent because I thought I could never find happiness again, rather than being upset about my marriage to J ending. We went back and forth a bit, not getting very far. I finally said "if I have to make a stupid comparison, I will. If my dog died, I can imagine having another dog sometime in the future and being happy, but it doesn't mean I wouldn't be absolutely crushed if she died." There were a lot of times I had to explain what I meant by making stupid-simple comparisons.
At one point Linda made J say that she didn't love me. J resisted, saying that wasn't true. I think the point Linda was trying to make was that J didn't have romantic feelings. As this was going on, tears began to well in my eyes. Linda's focus snapped to me and she said "why are you crying?" before the first tear fell. Not "how does that make you feel" or "what is going through your mind", but "why are you crying." Then she said I was overreacting. Early on in counseling, she said emotions aren't right or wrong, they just "are" and we need to learn how to manage and express them. Now she is telling me my emotions are wrong after she did her best to stir them up.
Then in our last session, she said that maybe J and I should be satisfied with a marriage where we don't talk all that much. All through this process, and even before we started, better communication was emphasized. We weren't really talking, and counseling was supposed to help solve this. After twelve weeks of digging up the past and present, we were doing much better. Then in our last session, Linda said "Just be happy with what made you miserable before."
There were other issues, but this is plenty to give an impression of what kind of counselor she was. Basically she thought I was insincere, unable to recognize (or admit) anger, a Neanderthal husband, incapable of future happiness, and after encouraging us to express emotion she criticized me when I did. I pushed back on several of these topics, but I didn't want our sessions turning into argument matches between me and the counselor, rather than working on our marriage.
Of course if I had to do it all over again, I would have changed counselors. We did talk about it part of the way through, but at the time I felt like keeping J in counseling was tenuous. I stuck it out for the general benefit it was providing, and tried to defend/explain myself while keeping the confrontation to a minimum.
Next, my final grade on the value of counseling, and what it meant to our marriage.
Marriage counseling report card - part one
If you can't say something nice...we'll start with the good:
"Linda" suggested/required each of us to go to an individual counselor in addition to seeing her as a couple. We had personal issues that we needed to address if we were going to have any success working on our marital problems. Linda referred me to John, and I couldn't have been happier with this choice. He was very helpful in working through my own issues, as well as a sounding board for my marital problems.
Linda asked tough questions. Her questions made us discuss subjects we had avoided talking about. Subjects that were sometimes embarrassing, loaded with shame, and more than a little tension. Our conflict avoidance was so prevalent, there was plenty to discuss. Once the subjects were broached, we did pretty well in opening up. Like so many other things, the stress and worry of anticipation is much worse than the actual thing you're avoiding.
I think just having a third person in the room was helpful, whether or not she was pushing us. When we were in session, J and I sat side by side on a couch facing Linda. I think it was easier to open up when we weren't facing each other. When discussing embarrassing or hurtful things, we weren't looking in each other's eyes. We didn't see each other's reaction, the crestfallen looks, any walls going up, etc. John actually recommended that we use this side-by-side technique by talking while out for a walk together. I made this suggestion a couple of times, but it didn't pan out.
When J initially mentioned moving out, Linda encouraged her to stay. Linda and I both felt that it was premature, and would only make working on our communication more difficult. Though J moved out a week or two later, I appreciated that Linda had encouraged us to work through things by staying under the same roof.
We met just about every week, 14 sessions in all, and we covered quite a bit of ground. Digging in to all the unsaid problems was a difficult journey, but I am better for it. It could have gone much, much better though. Most of things I appreciated about our counseling were pretty general and not specific to what Linda brought to the table. Next, the not so good.
"Linda" suggested/required each of us to go to an individual counselor in addition to seeing her as a couple. We had personal issues that we needed to address if we were going to have any success working on our marital problems. Linda referred me to John, and I couldn't have been happier with this choice. He was very helpful in working through my own issues, as well as a sounding board for my marital problems.
Linda asked tough questions. Her questions made us discuss subjects we had avoided talking about. Subjects that were sometimes embarrassing, loaded with shame, and more than a little tension. Our conflict avoidance was so prevalent, there was plenty to discuss. Once the subjects were broached, we did pretty well in opening up. Like so many other things, the stress and worry of anticipation is much worse than the actual thing you're avoiding.
I think just having a third person in the room was helpful, whether or not she was pushing us. When we were in session, J and I sat side by side on a couch facing Linda. I think it was easier to open up when we weren't facing each other. When discussing embarrassing or hurtful things, we weren't looking in each other's eyes. We didn't see each other's reaction, the crestfallen looks, any walls going up, etc. John actually recommended that we use this side-by-side technique by talking while out for a walk together. I made this suggestion a couple of times, but it didn't pan out.
When J initially mentioned moving out, Linda encouraged her to stay. Linda and I both felt that it was premature, and would only make working on our communication more difficult. Though J moved out a week or two later, I appreciated that Linda had encouraged us to work through things by staying under the same roof.
We met just about every week, 14 sessions in all, and we covered quite a bit of ground. Digging in to all the unsaid problems was a difficult journey, but I am better for it. It could have gone much, much better though. Most of things I appreciated about our counseling were pretty general and not specific to what Linda brought to the table. Next, the not so good.
Hard to break old habits
I've been talking with J on the phone a little bit recently because of the approaching home sale. I seem to miss her each time, so there have been several voicemails. I no longer say "Hey, its me" at the beginning of the message. I don't get to have that familiarity anymore. If there isn't now, there may another "me" someday soon.
The conversations have been somewhat awkward as well. The topics stay mostly to the business at hand with only minor personal updates. J called me this morning with a question on the escrow documents she was faxing off. I was still in bed - the alarm had gone off but I wasn't up yet, so I was understandably groggy. As she was signing off of the call, she stumbled over some words. I think she was about to say "love you" but caught herself. I could be wrong (I was half asleep), but that is how it seemed.
The conversations have been somewhat awkward as well. The topics stay mostly to the business at hand with only minor personal updates. J called me this morning with a question on the escrow documents she was faxing off. I was still in bed - the alarm had gone off but I wasn't up yet, so I was understandably groggy. As she was signing off of the call, she stumbled over some words. I think she was about to say "love you" but caught herself. I could be wrong (I was half asleep), but that is how it seemed.
Inviting a stranger to the table
I was initially hesitant toward counseling. It was going to be odd sensation to be discussing our failings with someone in the corner taking notes. I am not comfortable talking about myself in general, and I wasn't looking forward to shining a spotlight on the things I felt shame about.
People go to counselors for many reasons. At its core, you have a neutral third party in the room. Couples that argue often may need a third person to act like a referee. Many other couples need an interpreter so they can learn to speak each other's language. Still others may need a counselor to help them focus in on one particular issue and act like a mediator.
We weren't really talking, much less arguing. What we needed was someone to ask questions about difficult subjects to get the conversation started. We don't often broach these subjects with friends and family, so we needed someone neutral to dive in and ask the embarrassing questions. Once we were talking, ideally she would guide us toward a solution.
Of course most counselors are going to resist outright telling you what to do. It isn't that easy, and it probably shouldn't be. Their answers often have some sort of "well what do you think" element to it. We needed to develop some skills to better understand and communicate with each other. Along with the push start, we were looking for some education as well.
Once you decide to take the plunge, where do you turn? Getting the right person can be critical. One of the only people I told early on about my marital problems was my boss. I had to change the way I worked and my pay structure as a part of moving forward. He confided that he and his wife went to a counselor a few years back, and after one session they were about ready to get a divorce. We were looking for someone to stir the pot a little, not throw a match on a powder keg.
We ended up with "Linda". Not the best choice, not the worst. We'll cover our time with her next.
People go to counselors for many reasons. At its core, you have a neutral third party in the room. Couples that argue often may need a third person to act like a referee. Many other couples need an interpreter so they can learn to speak each other's language. Still others may need a counselor to help them focus in on one particular issue and act like a mediator.
We weren't really talking, much less arguing. What we needed was someone to ask questions about difficult subjects to get the conversation started. We don't often broach these subjects with friends and family, so we needed someone neutral to dive in and ask the embarrassing questions. Once we were talking, ideally she would guide us toward a solution.
Of course most counselors are going to resist outright telling you what to do. It isn't that easy, and it probably shouldn't be. Their answers often have some sort of "well what do you think" element to it. We needed to develop some skills to better understand and communicate with each other. Along with the push start, we were looking for some education as well.
Once you decide to take the plunge, where do you turn? Getting the right person can be critical. One of the only people I told early on about my marital problems was my boss. I had to change the way I worked and my pay structure as a part of moving forward. He confided that he and his wife went to a counselor a few years back, and after one session they were about ready to get a divorce. We were looking for someone to stir the pot a little, not throw a match on a powder keg.
We ended up with "Linda". Not the best choice, not the worst. We'll cover our time with her next.
Counseling
J and I had been married for just over 7 years last November when she brought up counseling for the second time. She had brought it up once before in our second year, but I had been resistant then, and she didn't push it. About two weeks before she suggested counseling the second time, we had had some discussions that made it clear that something serious was wrong. So when she suggested counseling this second time, I agreed it was time to seek outside help.
Trouble had been brewing in the background for some time. Both of us tend to avoid conflict so we didn't confront some (any) of the lingering problems we were having. This is a recipe for disappointment and resentment. For my part, I wasn't holding back feelings of "when you do X it makes me mad/sad". It was more a feeling of numbness and incompleteness had crept into our relationship. I can admit now that I was depressed. I felt shame, pulled away, and walled off parts of myself. I was suffering, but I didn't realize how heavily it weighed on J and our marriage.
We started counseling in the middle of December. Not knowing who would be best to step in to help, we went to a counselor based on a recommendation. I will call her Linda. Linda suggested we start with four initial sessions and then see where we wanted to go from there. We met once as a couple, then we each had a separate session with Linda, then had one more joint session.
We drove separately to our first joint appointment. Not the best start, but it was a morning appointment and J would be continuing on to work afterwards. We were in the midst of last year's cold snap, and the roads were a bit treacherous. I was following, and the route J had chosen had me concerned as there was a hill that was likely icy. I tried calling her, but she did not answer. I flashed my lights and put on my turn signal to take a right at the next light. She ended up pulling over, and when I rolled down my passenger window to explain my concern, the window shattered. Apparently the top had frozen to the seal and once the motor tugged it down, the window became thousands of tiny safety glass pebbles. I tried to ignore the symbolic omen.
Our first session was largely meet and greet and giving the Clif notes version of why we were there. J had her solo session first a week later. I don't remember much of the details of my solo session with Linda. I'm sure she asked about my viewpoint on our marriage, what our problems were, what my complaints might be. I remember shouldering much of the blame for what had become of our relationship. I'm sure she asked me for specific complaints about J, but I doubt I had much to say. It wasn't her I was dissatisfied with - it was what our relationship and marriage had become. I expressed determination to do whatever it took to save our marriage. I still had a great deal of hope for us.
The one thing I do remember clearly is that towards the end of the session Linda said it was much worse than I knew. Tears welled up and I said something like "sweet" half under my breath. She asked if I was being sarcastic. I don't know if she was being intentionally dense, but when I told her yes it was sarcasm, she didn't follow up with any sort of point she was trying to make. Things she said and did would continue to baffle me in the future. We were off to a rocky start all around.
Trouble had been brewing in the background for some time. Both of us tend to avoid conflict so we didn't confront some (any) of the lingering problems we were having. This is a recipe for disappointment and resentment. For my part, I wasn't holding back feelings of "when you do X it makes me mad/sad". It was more a feeling of numbness and incompleteness had crept into our relationship. I can admit now that I was depressed. I felt shame, pulled away, and walled off parts of myself. I was suffering, but I didn't realize how heavily it weighed on J and our marriage.
We started counseling in the middle of December. Not knowing who would be best to step in to help, we went to a counselor based on a recommendation. I will call her Linda. Linda suggested we start with four initial sessions and then see where we wanted to go from there. We met once as a couple, then we each had a separate session with Linda, then had one more joint session.
We drove separately to our first joint appointment. Not the best start, but it was a morning appointment and J would be continuing on to work afterwards. We were in the midst of last year's cold snap, and the roads were a bit treacherous. I was following, and the route J had chosen had me concerned as there was a hill that was likely icy. I tried calling her, but she did not answer. I flashed my lights and put on my turn signal to take a right at the next light. She ended up pulling over, and when I rolled down my passenger window to explain my concern, the window shattered. Apparently the top had frozen to the seal and once the motor tugged it down, the window became thousands of tiny safety glass pebbles. I tried to ignore the symbolic omen.
Our first session was largely meet and greet and giving the Clif notes version of why we were there. J had her solo session first a week later. I don't remember much of the details of my solo session with Linda. I'm sure she asked about my viewpoint on our marriage, what our problems were, what my complaints might be. I remember shouldering much of the blame for what had become of our relationship. I'm sure she asked me for specific complaints about J, but I doubt I had much to say. It wasn't her I was dissatisfied with - it was what our relationship and marriage had become. I expressed determination to do whatever it took to save our marriage. I still had a great deal of hope for us.
The one thing I do remember clearly is that towards the end of the session Linda said it was much worse than I knew. Tears welled up and I said something like "sweet" half under my breath. She asked if I was being sarcastic. I don't know if she was being intentionally dense, but when I told her yes it was sarcasm, she didn't follow up with any sort of point she was trying to make. Things she said and did would continue to baffle me in the future. We were off to a rocky start all around.
Can people really change?
That was one of the implied questions when we started going to a marriage counselor. Since many things hadn't been discussed before, we ended up spending lots of time on what needed to be changed. But once things were out in the open, could we affect any meaningful change, or would we just need to learn to accept the shortcomings we both have?
The self-help industry thrives on the promise of the New Year's resolution, that it is never too late to start over. We can change our bad habits, lose that weight, be more organized, spend more time with friends, call Mom on a regular basis, etc. But for some reason that belief is not so generously granted to others. People throw up their hands in frustration to their spouses, family, bosses, companies and government. A leopard can't change his spots, a scorpion can't help who he is, you will never live up to expectations, etc.
Even if we (falsely) agree that people can't change, bad habits are also viewed differently depending on who has the shortcoming. If it is someone else, it is a defect in character. If it is yourself, it is "I can't help it, it is just the way I am" or maybe you can classify your flaws as a disease.
As I mentioned, we both went into counseling thinking I was the one who needed to make the most changes. I believed throughout that I could make changes to improve, both for myself and for our marriage. Though I volunteered (and made) several changes, I didn't blindly promise to change anything and everything. It wouldn't have been sincere or realistic, and I don't think that is what she was looking for anyway.
I have just started reading a book called The Silver Linings Playbook. Pat's wife Nikki has left him and he is spending their "apart time" trying to do things that will make her happy when she "inevitably" returns. He works out 10 hours a day because he thinks she will like him more if he is buff. He begins reading all her favorite books so that he can "drop knowledge on her" by quoting lines, thus impressing her and making him more desirable. He is the only one who believes she will be coming back, and all those around him consider him crazy and desperate.
I too was desperate to save our relationship and our marriage, but I knew superficial changes and empty promises wasn't what we needed. I wasn't trying to create a mythical, perfect person, tailor made for her to love. I was looking to become a better, more honest version of me. But at the end of the day, I would still be me - and she did fall in love with me once. Whether you believe in nature, nurture or a combination of both, we have become who we are over a long period of time. Real change is difficult, but I believe absolutely attainable.
But it is difficult. There will be many false starts and incomplete projects. When I decided to start writing a blog, I went looking for an appropriate (and available) title. It turns out there are lots of blogs dedicated to documenting change that didn't get very far. There were many with phrases like 'divorce', 'a new me', 'year of change' and 'starting over' in the title that only had one post. I won't shine the spotlight on someone who didn't follow through by providing links, but it shows that people with the best of intentions do stumble along their path to progress. But stumbling is not failure. I'd like to think they are making progress even if they aren't writing about it online.
Whether she went into counseling believing I could change or not, J said she was impressed with all I had done to improve. It wasn't enough though. I don't think it was "too little too late", it was just "too late". The challenge going forward is to affect change and improve myself without the tangible reward of saving my marriage. Unfortunately, many of the things I needed to improve on are how I communicate and interact with my partner. I wasn't able to work on this during counseling, and now it's kind of theoretical work at this point. By the time I get to the practice phase of my education, I hope I remember everything I've learned this year, and that I've made lasting changes.
The self-help industry thrives on the promise of the New Year's resolution, that it is never too late to start over. We can change our bad habits, lose that weight, be more organized, spend more time with friends, call Mom on a regular basis, etc. But for some reason that belief is not so generously granted to others. People throw up their hands in frustration to their spouses, family, bosses, companies and government. A leopard can't change his spots, a scorpion can't help who he is, you will never live up to expectations, etc.
Even if we (falsely) agree that people can't change, bad habits are also viewed differently depending on who has the shortcoming. If it is someone else, it is a defect in character. If it is yourself, it is "I can't help it, it is just the way I am" or maybe you can classify your flaws as a disease.
As I mentioned, we both went into counseling thinking I was the one who needed to make the most changes. I believed throughout that I could make changes to improve, both for myself and for our marriage. Though I volunteered (and made) several changes, I didn't blindly promise to change anything and everything. It wouldn't have been sincere or realistic, and I don't think that is what she was looking for anyway.
I have just started reading a book called The Silver Linings Playbook. Pat's wife Nikki has left him and he is spending their "apart time" trying to do things that will make her happy when she "inevitably" returns. He works out 10 hours a day because he thinks she will like him more if he is buff. He begins reading all her favorite books so that he can "drop knowledge on her" by quoting lines, thus impressing her and making him more desirable. He is the only one who believes she will be coming back, and all those around him consider him crazy and desperate.
I too was desperate to save our relationship and our marriage, but I knew superficial changes and empty promises wasn't what we needed. I wasn't trying to create a mythical, perfect person, tailor made for her to love. I was looking to become a better, more honest version of me. But at the end of the day, I would still be me - and she did fall in love with me once. Whether you believe in nature, nurture or a combination of both, we have become who we are over a long period of time. Real change is difficult, but I believe absolutely attainable.
But it is difficult. There will be many false starts and incomplete projects. When I decided to start writing a blog, I went looking for an appropriate (and available) title. It turns out there are lots of blogs dedicated to documenting change that didn't get very far. There were many with phrases like 'divorce', 'a new me', 'year of change' and 'starting over' in the title that only had one post. I won't shine the spotlight on someone who didn't follow through by providing links, but it shows that people with the best of intentions do stumble along their path to progress. But stumbling is not failure. I'd like to think they are making progress even if they aren't writing about it online.
Whether she went into counseling believing I could change or not, J said she was impressed with all I had done to improve. It wasn't enough though. I don't think it was "too little too late", it was just "too late". The challenge going forward is to affect change and improve myself without the tangible reward of saving my marriage. Unfortunately, many of the things I needed to improve on are how I communicate and interact with my partner. I wasn't able to work on this during counseling, and now it's kind of theoretical work at this point. By the time I get to the practice phase of my education, I hope I remember everything I've learned this year, and that I've made lasting changes.