I have problems being honest and communicating my feelings and thoughts to my husband, as you who read my blog often have probably figured out.
I really can’t say why I can’t just say what’s on my mind….It’s just like…Something stops me from talking. An invisible force keeps my lips forcefully sealed and I can’t get my thoughts out of my mouth!
I have often wondered if it is because I learned to keep the abuse hidden and pretend everything was okay; did that give me the blueprint for shutting up about difficult things?
Or is it that I’m so uncomfortable about confrontation, complaining about something, hurting someone with my words, that I just cannot bear to say things out loud because I think they’d dislike me, leave me, change their opinions on me?
I don’t know.
In any case, we don’t talk. Much. I swear I talked to M a LOT more when we were friends – for three years we chatted over Skype and as he was in a relationship and I was with my ex, saying difficult things about myself was easier. I trusted him, wanted to share my thoughts with him as a friend.
Now it’s more complicated. As soon as we got intimate and then married, I just shut up.
I expect him to start talking. I WANT him to ask me questions, but he rarely does. He’s a real guy’s guy.
Even when I was sitting on the operating table waiting for the abortion (after I’d been puking and then gotten a shot in my ass) feeling miserable, I asked him if he was okay, and he said he was fine. I then said, why don’t you ask if I’m okay? And he said, you look fine so I don’t have to ask……….
I look fine?! It made me realize I’ve taken this mask-thing so far that even though I’m about to have invasive surgery to remove a fetus and I’ve been fasting and then puking pile and about to be invaded with surgical tools in my uterus, I seem fine.
I’m a master of pretending. A queen of wearing masks to hide my true feelings. I’m ALWAYS okay. I cry in the dark, in the shower, alone. I blog here about my feelings, stuff I can’t say out loud.
I can get along with ANYONE. I’ve perfected the art of small talk and smiling, being happy and funny and chit chatting with anyone and everyone about anything under the sun. It’s like my trademark, I’d say.
But underneath….I’m not okay. Sometimes I am, don’t get me wrong. But, like, yesterday I wasn’t okay. And then during the car ride home I joked and chatted about shit
I talked to a friend over the phone about a job I’d been offered and she had to stop me and go, hey, are you okay? Tell me about what happened?
And that’s the thing, only REAL friends know when I’m bullshitting. REAL friends see my scars, the ones on the outside and the ones hidden on the inside of my soul.
So today we didn’t speak (didn’t speak last night either) with M, he left for work, I stayed working from home, but then in the morning he called and said hey, I’ve spoken to a therapist, when would you be free to go to couple’s therapy?
I am so proud of him!!! He took the initiative to do research, find someone, and I don’t kind of care who it is as long as we have someone who will ask questions and MAKE us talk! I’m excited!!!
Next week…We’ll see him, and I really hope it goes okay! I’m happy and excited, happy that my husband knows things are not okay, and that we DO need to talk, and that maybe an outsider would be of help…Even though it’s a guy, I don’t even care! Shit, I just had my insides pulled out by a hippie-type Ob-Gyn with a long ponytail…!
Love love love LittleGirl xxx