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So here I am starting to fall apart from all that is happening...I am trying to find a location for the new business, but that isn't taking up much time, and with the extra time on my hands, all I can think about is my loss...I know she's not gone yet but the wheels are in motion and I can't stop them.
I've always had "control issues" that's part of how I ended up being "the man" in our family, it suited me well. But suddenly I find that I don't relish that role like I once did, that I want to be taken care of for a change, that I'm tired of doing it all...I need support. This is where it gets tough for me. My husband comes from a very different family structure than I do. He is an adoptee (one of 6 in his family), and unfortunatley his adoptive Mom died when he was 6. His Father became an abusive drunk, and a few lousy step-mom's later he was on his own at 16. This was not easy, and he carries the internal scars from this...I didn't realize how much they affected him until now...
This is a man that stands there watching me cry and fall apart, and then hands me the tissue box and tells me to go to the bedroom, have a good cry, and get this out of my system! This is a man that can stand there with his hands in his pockets while I scream and rant, and hurt, and cry...and do nothing! I don't know if he doesn't know what to do or what. But it would seem obvious that when the person you love the most in the world is hurting, you would at least hug them, hold them, a kiss on the head, tell the lie that everything will be ok, anything to help...but I get nothing...I'm feeling so empty inside...
Now I know that he cannot understand my needs and my pain, he is not able to support me. I am hurting so much and he is numb to it. I turn to other people, because he can walk by me a hundred times a day and never say anything or touch me, I need to be touched, to be hugged, to be held...I need to keep my humanity...I try to tell him what I need, I need to feel alive in the face of this death.
My Mom then shares with me that her Grandmother died at 53 of MS, and I know that her Mother died at 55 of Parkinson's, now the mind-fuck has me reeling....I am 47! I suddenly realize that my time here is so limited! Yes, I could live to be 85-90 like my Dad's side of the family, but that's not what sticks in my mind...I have to think; what if....what if I only have a few years left? Where am I with my life, what have I accomplished, how do I want to live now, am I happy? These and so many other questions are running through my mind...
I have issues...lol...understatement here...
My husband and I make love...for the first time in months. Our sex life has dwindled so much in the past 5 years. I initiated it (as I had the last time as well) and I told him that I was not ready to give up that part of our lives yet, that I need the stimulation, that it makes me feel alive, that the contact is good for me. And then nothing from him....until a few weeks ago. We have had sex 3 times in the last year...
This has happened for a few reasons; My husband had his own mid-life crises of a sort about 8 years ago. I had spent 12 years searching for his birth-mother, hoping that it would give him some closure, and help him somehow with some of the difficulties he was having. I had found her, and they met....everything went great! But when he came home, he found himself confused, angry, and hurt...everything that he had stuffed down from his childhood reared it's ugly head. he had had a panic attack on the flight to see her, and then another one the first night he was there...he was fearful of another one. We talked, and talked, we walked, I listened while he vented and cried. Finally he went to our Doctor...who prescribed Zoloft for him. He was depressed plain and simple. After a few weeks he began to feel better, but he also began to experience some sexual dysfunction. He had difficulties maintaining an erection, and his orgasms were weak. This was the start of our sexual decline. He went back to the doctor and tried some viagra, didn't have stellar results, and so basically threw in the towel. He is terrified to this day to go off the Zoloft...he may as well be hooked, because he can't seem to quit it. So we both started to masturbate rather than continuing to make unsuccessful attempts at having a sex life. We were starting to grow apart, to separate...the other issue here that I have to take responsibility for is that I had gained weight over the years, I was still clean, professional in my work, very presentable, still attractive, but definitely overweight. He never said a word about it to his credit...
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Posted by 2ndchildhood on 2007-12-13 21:55:28 | Rating: | Views: 75
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Maybe if you keep writing it will work itself out of you. I'm sorry for your worries and troubles and I will send prayers your way. Listen to the voice inside of yourself. It will never let you down. xox
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Posted by caliope
on 2007-12-13 21:59:39
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