The Luck of the Irish

I hope that everyone had a wonderful St. Patrick's Day, filled with joy, laughter, and green beer. Although the Irish portion of my heritage is about as prevalent as Obama's, I have always faithfully celebrated St. Paddy's Day by wearing green and stuffing myself with corned beef and cabbage. And while I did those things today, I really don't feel like celebrating because I also had my 2nd therapy session.

I don't know if its just me, or if this is a normal reaction, but after doing nothing but sitting and talking for 50 minutes, I am left feeling tired, wrung out, and introspective. I don't want to do anything except sit on the couch and watch mindless TV. I didn't talk about anything too surprising, I wasn't shocked by any revelations, nothing amazing happened. Yet here I am, feeling like I was run over by a small truck.

So instead of a thoughtful or thought provoking post, I just feel like writing a bunch of unrelated thoughts as they occur to me.

1. - My new nephew is perfect, with his itty-bitty fingernails, his cloudy blue eyes, and his fuzzy head (which has that fabulous baby smell). He and my sister went home from the hospital on Saturday and I am sad that I live an hour and a half away from them, because I would love to drop by every day just to see how quickly he changes. There's just something irresistible about a new baby.

2. - When I was holding my nephew on Saturday, my mom made a comment that she hoped that DH and I decide to have another baby, because I looked more content holding him than I have looked in a long time. So it seems that my family isn't totally oblivious to the fact that I have had an awful year, but my mother is attributing it to my rapidly aging biological clock. For the record, I have no intention or desire to have any more children. I am very happy with the size of the family that I have right now.

3. - The optimism that I was feeling the other day has proved to be an elusive thing, slipping through my fingers each time I think I've finally grasped it. It is just another aspect of the roller coaster of my life.

4. - When DH or I feel insecure, we try to make things better with sex. When we are mad at each other, sometimes we have angry sex, sometimes we have no sex at all. Yesterday, I don't even know what we were fighting about, but for some reason we were snipping at each other. At bedtime, I did my normal 'we've been fighting, so now let's get a little nookie' rub of his arm. (I don't know why I always start by rubbing his arm, but I bet that 90% of the times that I initiate sex begin with my fingernails gently sliding down DH's arm.) He didn't just turn me down, he actually laughed as he turned away and said, " I don't think so. Not tonight."

Then, this morning, he kissed me goodbye when he went to work, as if nothing happened. He's at a HOA meeting right now, but before he left, he patted my ass and very suggestively told me that he'd hurry home. WTF?

5. - Hoodie wrote a post today that talked about the necessity of a complete break when an affair ends. I tried to comment about 3 times, but couldn't figure out what I was trying to say. I've been thinking about it, and from my perspective, on the other side of the affair, I see no possible way of anything working in a marriage if that complete separation doesn't happen.

In my opinion, (having never been there, so you all are welcome to tell me that I don't know what I'm talking about) people think they are feeling stronger emotions than they really are when they are caught in an affair. Everything is enhanced by the adrenaline of the affair, and nothing about the affair is actually real. It is two people constructing a fantasy together in which real life is merely a spice. But it seems that the people don't fully realize that they are in that world of make-believe until the affair ends. If they try to remain friends, they never gain enough distance to acquire perspective, and they keep getting sucked back into the fantasy.

In addition, without that complete break, the spouse will never regain enough trust to help rebuild the marriage, and without both people fully present in the relationship, it doesn't stand a chance. Or at least that's how I feel.

6. - Okay, I didn't intend to write anything that heavy, but I guess it was on my mind. I need to try to get my thoughts more under control before DH gets home, so I am going to stop writing now. I think I will end this St. Patrick's Day post with a couple of my favorite Irish proverbs.


May the Lord keep you in His hand and never close His fist too tight.

May the saddest day of your future be no worse than the happiest day of your past.

Bundles of Joy

My baby sister just became a mother for the first time on Thursday. I stayed with her in the hospital through 13 hours of labor and I was there when her beautiful son made his debut. I got to watch the sweet picture of my sister holding her new baby for the first time, and her husband wrapping his arms around both of them. It brought tears to my eyes as I took pictures of this perfect moment in their lives.

The next day, I was sitting by my sister's bed, watching her watch the baby sleep. She couldn't stop herself from touching him, stroking his fuzzy hair, admiring his little fingernails, laying her hand on his chest to feel him breathe. She was completely smitten. In one fell swoop, her life has been unalterably changed.

Her husband (J) had run home to shower and pick up all of the baby gear that new parents are told is essential, so we were alone for a few hours. We discussed the labor process, the glory of the epidural, the relative ease of the birth, (She only pushed for 15 minutes!) the frustration of trying to get the sleepy baby to latch on to her breast, and her inability to find a comfortable position to sit. It was all of the normal post-birth conversation.

Then, she turned to me and said, "I just hope that J and I can do this as well as you and DH. You guys have such great kids."

I agreed with her that my children are pretty spectacular, and assured her that hers would be (almost) as perfect. We discussed for a little while the sleepless nights that were ahead of her, the sore breasts, the stretch marks that will never completely fade.

Then she said, "I just hope that J always looks at me the way that DH looks at you. You two are kind of sickening, you know." I just rolled my eyes at her.

A couple hours later, after school, DH showed up at the hospital with our kids so that they could meet their new cousin. We watched our 6 year old hold the new baby and tell him that as soon as he got bigger, they would play pokemon together. It was so sweet. As we stood there, DH put his arm around my waist and pulled me towards him a bit.

My sister then threw a wadded up paper towel at me and said, "See what I mean. Sickening."

DH looked questioningly at me, and I told him to ignore her, that she was just hormonal.

She stuck her tongue out at me and repeated, "Sickening."

Later that night, as I was lying in bed with DH, I found myself wondering what people see when they look at DH and me. Do we really appear to be in love? Are we as in love as we appear? Do people see the tension between us, or are we so good at hiding it that no one knows? Does it matter what other people think?

I don't know the answers, but I am feeling a bit more optimistic than usual today.

There's just something about the joy of a new baby that makes everything seem possible.

Blogs

I'm not entirely sure what I expected when I started this blog. I truly believed that it was just going to be a way for me to rant privately, like a diary, only I don't smear ink on my hand writing.

I knew that there was a possibility that someone might stumble upon the blog at some point, but I doubted that anyone would actually be interested in my mental breakdown. Blogs that ooze sensually written erotica are much more compelling than my marital angst.

But surprisingly, my first post produced not just a reader, but a couple of comments and a follower, too.

Over the last few weeks, I've had more people reading my blog, quite a few comments, and a couple more followers as well. Before this happened, I never would have guessed how much I appreciate a few words left at the end of a blog. I expected to get some sort of catharsis from writing, but the comments are actually what have made me feel the best.

I didn't realize until recently how alone I felt after DH's affair. There are only 2 people in my real life who know about something that has become one of the most pivotal events in my life. One of them knows very, very few details, and the other lives 2000 miles away and I haven't seen her in person for over a decade.

Knowing that there are people out there who are interested enough in my story to come back to my blog just to hear me ramble makes me feel a little less invisible. Reading the comments makes me feel less alone.

So, thank you for coming and being a tiny part of my psychiatric break. I appreciate your support as I rebuild my life.

Therapy - Part two

After spending about half an hour ensuring that I was not (technically) psychotic, the therapy session changed from questions about my daily activities, hormonal cycles, and thought patterns to the reason I sought out therapy in the first place.

Unlike my previous attempt at couples therapy, or what I had seen in movies, Kathleen(the therapist) started out by saying, "You wrote that your husband had an affair last year. Since we don't have much time left today, I don't want to spend a lot of time talking about the past. We can do that the next appointment. Instead of telling me what happened last year, tell me what happened the week that you decided to make an appointment to see me. Maybe we can come up with a strategy to help you feel more in control of your thoughts and emotions until you come back again."

I was a bit floored. I always think of therapists as trying to pull information out of the past, blaming everything on your childhood relationship with your mother, and so on. But Kathleen wanted to know what lead to me seeking therapy, so I did my very best summary and said, "I went through my husband's email without him knowing, and I found out that the woman he was seeing last year had contacted him and was trying to meet with him. I don't know why. I don't know what's going on. I don't know how he responded. I just don't know anything."

Kathleen asked me some more detail questions about how I had found the email, how I felt, what scenarios were playing through my mind, and how this news had affected me. She wanted to know things like how many times a day I find myself thinking about DH's infidelity.

After a few minutes of these kinds of questions, she said to me, "Do you realize that when you talk about your husband's affair, you focus more on TOW than you do on DH?"

I thought about that for a moment. I know that I'm a bit obsessed with TOW, because aside from me, I think she is the only woman DH ever fell in love with. Yes, he had a couple of long term college relationships, but they never developed into love. Besides me, TOW is the only person who has ever captured that portion of DH's heart.

So, Kathleen asked me why that was so significant if DH had been willing to end things with TOW in order to stay married to me. She wanted to know if I believe that their is something still going on with DH and TOW. She said she didn't care about evidence, or even if I was correct. She just wanted to know if in my heart I believed that DH was still seeing TOW or not.

I couldn't come up with an answer, so she pressed a bit harder. She asked me if before I had found out about the affair, if I had realized that something was wrong in the marriage. I told her that without a doubt, the answer was yes, but at that time, I didn't know what.

Then she asked what I had felt back then that made me know something was wrong despite the fact that I had no proof.

I told her that back then, DH wasn't fully there in our relationship. He was constantly trying to find proof that I was doing something wrong. He would vacillate between attentive husband and annoyed asshole in a way that he never had throughout our entire relationship. And more than once, I caught him staring off, lost in thought with a look in his eyes that once used to only be there when he thought of me.

Kathleen told me that what I just described is what she calls relationship intuition. She says that the vast majority of men and women who she counsels who were cheated on by their spouse describe some sort of relationship intuition that told them something was going on long before they had proof. But very few actually act on that intuition.

She asked me again, if thinking about those sorts of nuances in our relationship, if I believed that DH was still involved in some sort of extramarital relationship. I thought for a moment, and hesitantly said, "I don't think so, but I think he's thinking about it."

At this point, there were only a couple more minutes left in our hour (50 minutes), and she said to me that she was giving me another assignment ... in addition to the exercise. What she wants me to do is write down anything specific that DH says or does that triggers that 'intuition' response. Even if I have no proof. Even if it doesn't seem to make sense. Even if I feel like I'm imagining it. Until my next appointment, I'm supposed to make a note of anything that leads me to have that 'something is going on, but I can't put my finger on it feeling."

Then, after I write it down, I'm supposed to try not to focus on it. She says that she and I can go through things at our next appointment, but if I find myself focusing on any of those details in the meantime, I'm supposed to physically start doing something that will take my mind off of it.

And that was the end of therapy session #1. I have an appointment to see her again a week from Tuesday.

So far, I have been (reluctantly)exercising daily, and I have written down a couple of subtle things that DH has said or done that made me suddenly, inexplicably insecure... although, I have to admit, there haven't been many of those in the last few days.

I don't know if the therapy is going to help or not, but so far it is definitely not what I expected, and it is making me think.

Interlude

I will write a post about the end of my therapy session tomorrow, but first I thought I'd share DH's reaction to my appointment.

I saw the therapist on Tuesday afternoon. DH seemed to be avoiding the subject, so I didn't bring it up at all, except to tell him that I have been ordered to exercise. His immediate, no hesitation response was, "That's fine if it makes you feel better, but you do NOT need to lose weight." Good answer. DH is a smart man.

We had a very hectic week. Both of us were busy with work. Soccer started for my son. My daughter has basketball and violin. There was a concert on Friday. And mother nature had decided that this was the week to put her monthly kibosh on most of our sexual activities. All together, this means that we had seen very little of each other, and when we were together, everything was a bit strained.

Saturday night, after a busy day of running the kids to their activities, housework, errands, etc., we decided to go to bed a bit early since we were losing an hour of sleep, and DH and our daughter had to wake up early to go to a daddy/daughter basketball tournament/fundraiser.

DH is always restless as he falls asleep, and seemed to be even more so than usual last night. After about 15 minutes of tossing and turning, he turned to me and almost whispered, "Is it okay if I make love to you?"

This is very unusual for DH. Normally, he gauges whether or not I'm in the mood by my reactions to his advances. He may ask me if I'm in the mood, he may ask what position I'm up for, he may ask if we can try something new, but the last time I remember him asking for permission to make love to me was a few days after I found out about his affair.

That time, I had consented without looking at him, and then proceeded to channel all my hurt and anger into an almost violent (me, not him) animalistic coupling. Last night was very different.

The lights were out, so I could just make out the line of his body in the dim light. His hands slid down the line of my body, and his lips kissed along my collarbone then down to my breasts. There was no biting, no sucking, no sharp graze of his teeth, but the soft feel of his lips traveling along my body was enough to raise goosebumps on my flesh.

I started to reach for him, to caress his chest and belly, but before my hands found their way to his groin, he moved himself on top of me. I could feel him pressing against me, before gradually entering. Slow stroke after slow stroke, he opened me a bit at a time before finally pressing his full length deliciously against my inner walls.

Sweetly and gently, he established a slow rhythm. With his hands under my hips, he would push himself all of the way into me, lifting me slightly at the end of each stroke. This subtle change in angle soon had me cresting. The rhythm didn't falter, even as I gripped him tightly and shuddered with orgasm. Not until the last aftershock rippled through my body did he speed his actions slightly, then collapse against me with his own pleasure.

A moment later, he shifted us slightly so that we were on our sides, my head resting on his chest, still connected intimately. We lay there quietly for a while, catching our breaths and enjoying the moment.

After a bit, we cleaned up, and made sure that we were presentable in case one of the kids should climb into bed with us during the night. After a moment of lying in the dark, DH said to me, in that same tentative whisper as before, "So, did that therapist tell you that you ought to get rid of me?"

I sighed softly and shook my head at him. "Honey, I don't think that that's what therapists do. I'm not going to her because I want to get rid of you. I just want to be a happy person again. I can't stand the mood swings, and they're not fair to you or the kids, either."

In an even softer whisper, he replied, "I don't want to lose you." And then, within a moment, I heard his breathing even out, and he was asleep.

I, on the other hand, laid there for sometime staring into the darkness. Just when I begin to feel like I'm getting a handle on things, reality throws me for a loop. It's easy for me to understand the hurt, anger, frustration, and worry that I feel. It's harder for me to grasp the fact that DH feels vulnerable as well.

Why do I feel slightly guilty about that?

I think I'll go exercise.

~sigh~

Therapy - Part one

So the other day, I met the new therapist. She had come highly recommended and I decided to be cautiously optimistic that she would be more helpful than the marriage counselor that DH and I had seen.

I was asked to arrive 15 minutes before my appointment so that I could complete a bit of paperwork. After filling out the standard data (insurance info, health history, etc), I was handed a paper with about five lines on it that said:

Using the space provided, please write down the reason that you have decided to meet with the therapist. Please write down the first thing that comes to mind. Do not worry about details. Do not worry about how it sounds. Please do not write more than will fit in the space provided.

Ummm... I had no idea what to say. I know why I'm there, but being asked to dilute it down into a space big enough for about three sentences. With only about 4 minutes until it is time for my appointment. This is hard for me. You may not have noticed, but I tend to be wordy.

But feeling a lot of pressure, I wrote(in very small print):

My husband had an affair last year, and I can't seem to recover. Sometimes things seem to be improving, but then the bottom seems to drop out. I can't control my thoughts and it affects every part of my life. I used think of myself as a happy person, lately I question who I am.

I hand the clipboard back to the receptionist, and about three minutes later, I am brought back to a room. The therapist introduces herself as Kathleen, and invites me to sit in a fairly comfortable chair. She then explains that often the biggest stumbling block when meeting with a new patient is having them get comfortable enough to verbalize out loud the reason they are there. She says that they have had great luck with having people write a short statement.

She then read aloud what I had written, and asked me to bear with her. She said that most people want most to talk about the first and the last thing they write down, but what she usually starts with is the middle. She was particularly interested in the fact that I felt like I couldn't control my thoughts and she asked me questions about that for about fifteen minutes. She also asked me a long series of questions regarding changes in my mood and what triggers them. She then told me that she was making sure that I didn't have any underlying psychiatric issues or PMDD (premenstrual dysphoric disorder) which is apparently like PMS gone out of control.

She said that from what she could tell in that limited time, I have a bit of sub-clinical depression, which means that I am depressed, but not so depressed that I can't function. Well, duh.

She said that she doesn't recommend medication for this level of depression, because it is usually caused by a life situation and not a chemical problem in the brain. Once again, duh.

However, she said that living with this kind of depression for an extended period of time does cause different chemicals to be released that keep you in a depressive state even after things start to improve. To combat this, she wants me to exercise.

Yes, my therapist wants me to exercise. She was very specific about what she wants. Every day (seven days a week!) she wants me to do something aerobic which causes me to break a sweat. Then she wants me to maintain that level of activity for 20 minutes. That's all. It can be anything I want. Walking, running, biking, swimming, stairs, elliptical machine. Anything at all that makes me break a sweat.

She promises that if I actually do this, in 2 weeks when I see her again, I will feel a difference in my mood. I'm sure this is true, but I would much rather have someone wave a magic wand and make everything better instead.

This part of the meeting with Kathleen took about half an hour, the rest of the time was more like what I expected to do in therapy. I talked. She listened and asked questions to clarify things.

And I will write about that in my next post.

Shoop Shoop

Do you remember the scene in Pretty Woman, where Julia Roberts is negotiating her price for the night and what it will include. She ends her speech by saying, "I don't kiss on the mouth." To which Richard Gere replies, "Neither do I." Then, at the end of the movie, you know that they are going to get their happily-ever-after because they share a big, passionate, tonsils-deep kiss.

The movie was trying to make the point that was that kissing is often more intimate than any sexual act.

It occurs to me today, that DH and I rarely if ever kiss. We peck goodnight. He kisses my neck, I kiss his chest, we both are fairly giving in the oral sex department, but there is no making out whatsoever.

I miss the kisses, and I wonder what it means.

I agree with the Pretty Woman writers. There is something very intimate about a kiss.

I remember a time when we used to kiss for hours. A time when kissing was the main course, and sex was dessert. I remember kisses that made me feel like my lips were attached to my nether regions. There were kisses that made me tingle in the best of ways.

But no more. I tried yesterday to change this. DH was cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, and I came up behind him and tried to get a little frisky. (I've been the one initiating sex these last few days - see my previous post.) DH was receptive, and took me into his arms. I stretched up to kiss him. Our lips met beautifully. My tongue slid against his, and I felt him take my bottom lip gently between his teeth. Next thing I knew, he was nibbling on the side of my neck.

I tried 4 or 5 more times to kiss him. Each time, he quickly moved away from my mouth to someplace else. He won't kiss me, but he certainly is not opposed to any sort of sex.

It makes me feel a bit like I'm his live in hooker rather than the woman he has vowed to love, honor and cherish.

Am I over reacting? Does this post just prove my paranoia?

It's probably a good thing I'm seeing a therapist today.

I don't know how to put a youtube video into my blog, so I'll just leave you all with the lyrics that have been running through my head as I wrote this post.


The Shoop Shoop Song

Does he love me I want to know
How can I tell if he loves me so
Is it in his eyes ?
Oh no ! You'll be deceived
Is it in his sighs ?
Oh no ! He'll make believe
If you want to know if he loves you so
It's in his kiss
That's where it is

Is it in his face ?
Oh no ! That's just his charms
In his warm embrace ?
Oh no ! That's just his arms
If you want to know if he loves you so
It's in his kiss
That's where it is
It's in his kiss
That's where it is

Kiss him and squeeze him tight
Find out what you want to know
If it's love, if it really is
It's there in his kiss

How about the way he acts
Oh no ! That's not the way
And you're not list'nin' to all I say
If you wanna know if he loves you so
It's in his kiss
That's where it is
It's in his kiss
That's where it is

Kiss him and squeeze him tight
Find out what you want to know
If it's love, if it really is
It's there in his kiss

How about the way he acts
Oh no ! That's not the way
And you're not listnin' to all I say
If you wanna know if he loves you so
It's in his kiss
That's where it is

It's in his kiss
That's where it is

Roller Coaster Rides

It been an interesting roller coaster ride this last week. Well really for the last year, but I can only handle things in small chunks, so we'll just discuss the last week or so.

After I discovered the email from TOW, I pretty much shut down emotionally. DH didn't know what was going on, ignored it for a few days, and then tried to fix it with sex. Which works temporarily, but never lasts.

I didn't realize at first that that's what was going on, and I'm sure he didn't either, but we both do that. We try to fix emotional issues with sex.

Back while DH was having his affair, before I realized that TOW existed, I knew something was wrong. There were little inconsistencies in the stories he would tell me, but they always were easily explained away. But after every conversation like that, I could feel DH subtly pull away from me emotionally. How did I try to fix it? I would randomly initiate sex, focusing in on the things that I know he likes best. I would blow him, I would offer anal sex, I would acquire new lingerie.

For a day, maybe two, after each encounter like this, I would feel like we were connected again, but then I could feel us slipping apart again. So I would step up the frequency of the sex. Unfortunately, it doesn't work long term, and the rest is history.

So, back to this week, after several days of emotional egg shells in our house, on Monday, DH initiated sex, focusing on the things I like. I enjoy having my hair pulled, being spanked, being submissive, light pain mixed with lots of pleasure. (It's really all very vanilla.) It seemed to realign us emotionally - for about a day, but nothing had changed, so we started to drift again. So for the next several days, there was more really very good sex.

We have always had an effective sex life, but there is something about the desperation involved in this "emotionally fixing" sex that makes it even more incredible.

That was the status quo until Friday, when I mentioned to DH that I had made an appointment to see a therapist this coming Tuesday. I tried to break it to him gently, but it still seemed to hit him like a kick to the stomach. DH hated every minute of the couples counseling that we did last year. He felt like the therapist was going to berate him at any moment. He would rather have had root canals without pain medicine than go to our appointments.

I - wrongly - assumed that my going to therapy by myself wouldn't bother him nearly as much. After all, he doesn't have to do anything. Nope. He still thinks the therapist is going to be out to get him, only now he's worried that it'll be said behind his back.

But he's not about to tell me that I can't go to a therapist, so what does he do? He pulls back emotionally. Which makes me wonder if he's going to contact TOW so that he has someone to talk to about how he feels. (I realize that sounds paranoid, but I still don't know what he is doing about that email from TOW, so I am paranoid.) Which makes me pull back, too.

Which is exactly the opposite direction of what I want to have happen. I want to feel connected to DH. I want to feel that emotional bond. So what do I do? Last night, I put on a very thin nightie, climbed into bed, and started to blow him. Then I proceeded to encourage him to do whatever he wanted to me.

In the afterglow, I felt much more connected again, but in reality, I know that we are still just riding in circles on that same roller coaster.

Only problem is, I don't know how to stop. It has its own momentum, and it just keeps taking us up and down those same hills.