You don't KNOW if you don't TRY. So I'm applying myself to my marriage to see if it might work. And things are shifting.
Then at our last counseling session Rob spilled to our therapist that I had complained our work with her had been overly focused on him. I had told him that in confidence! I was horrified when — apparently unaware this would be a problem — he let on. I was left sitting there sheepishly, making excuses as to why I said what I said ("It was in jest!"), trying to convince her I had no problems with how things were going.
Anyway, I didn't mind the neglect. Rob is paying for these sessions; I guess the unbalanced attention allowed me to feel okay about not contributing to the fee. So as the therapist spent our time week after week asking Rob about his relationship to drinking and encouraging him to work on communication and connection, I didn't argue. It's not like I wouldn't benefit immensely from his improvements in those areas, so I watched patiently and hoped the work would stick.
Re-reading my last post about not taking Rob to the end-of-yoga-teacher-training party, it worried me how desperately I wanted to avoid involving Rob in the new step I'm taking in my life. I wanted to avoid introducing him to my new friends. Is this telling? Does it mean that though I won't admit it to myself, what I really want is to have an altogether separate life from him?
Part of me wanted to bring him that night. After all, he's been incredibly helpful to me as I've been in the program — he gave me rides to the studio, made me dinners after a long days of training, and generally took care of things at home when I was swamped with homework. If I'm not sure my heart's in our relationship, am I taking advantage by accepting such support?
But there was that moment, in the midst of mingling at the party when I missed Rob. I met a fascinating filmmaker he would have had a great chat with. I thought of how much he would have loved to have been there, and maybe I even wished he was.
Not only have I neglected to put the Leary theory into effect, but I've acted quite the opposite of a married woman who has taken separation off the table.
Tonight one of my fellow yoga teachers-in-training is hosting a dinner party for our group and our significant others to recognize our hard work and transformation — like a pre-graduation party. It's a chance enjoy each other's company before the stress of the final exam and practicum after which (if we pass) we'll leave the group and go into the world as registered yoga teachers.
And I never even told Rob about it.
This morning he woke up with a terrible cold, and I had an out. "Aw," I said, "I forgot to mention this get-together tonight, and now you won't be able to come."
It's not that I'm embarrassed of him or want to keep him out of some part of my life. I just don't want to babysit. I want to mingle and enjoy myself.
Sick day equals time for TV. I guess I'd forgotten that daytime television really is crap. But I just saw something rather compelling. On The Bonnie Hunt Show, Denis Leary claimed the key to the success of his marriage is that he and his wife agreed to never divorce. My first thought was "That's brilliant, Denis." But there could be something to it.
Apparently, Leary thinks the divorce rate is high simply because divorce is an option. If it weren't an option, you'd find ways to make your marriage work.
Tell that to the women stuck in abusive relationships. Hopefully, he'd give them special dispensation.
I kind of hated what he said. But I've learned strong reactions can come from fear of the truth. So why not investigate?
I change my mind so often about Rob and me it's embarrassing. What if we lived by the Denis Leary rule? Would we settle in to this marriage more easily and enjoy ourselves? If we stopped hedging about our long-term chances, could we get on with life? Get a dog? Buy a condo? Start a family?
Okay, that last one was a quick post. When I wrote last weekend I was still in the midst of the family frenzy that is the holidays. No time to think, only DO!
Turns out Thanksgiving weekend was a great time despite the awkward moments and challenges endemic to the family only a year or two into divorce.
Of course, the divorce in my family is my mother and father's divorce. And if this past holiday is a litmus test, it seems we're all still okay despite them deciding to tear the family apart. (Okay, I'm being dramatic. I've admitted I'm glad they split — they should have years ago.)
I need to take heed that good times didn't end when my parents divorced, for the holidays inevitably invite a downward spiral in my journey as a contemplator. There's nothing worse during the holidays for someone considering separation — it's the worst time to be caught between staying and leaving.
All that has transpired among my family this holiday takes longer to digest than even the biggest turkey holiday.
My mother and step-father (still getting used to calling this stranger any sort of father) swept through town town in a fit of self-importance, leaving behing gifts from their recent Mexican holiday.
The dishes were barely dry and it was time for a seven-hour drive to upstate NY where my sister and I removed my father's car from his possession for his own safety (dementia has robbed him of his driving skills). We lied and said we accidentally crashed it but actually put it into storage.
Holidays...what fun. But who had my back through all the bickering and tears? Rob. Gotta hand it to that guy. He's a good one to have around.
For some reason, Rob is less needy lately. When he isn't in constant monologue trying to describe every experience he had while we were apart during the day, I'm more curious about how he spends his time. I have questions for him and we can dialog. This works for me. I guess without Rob breathing down my neck, the time we do spend together seems more...pleasant!
Our trip to the meditation center was helpful — our program allowed us time together apart from the group, plus time apart from each other. We struck a nice balance.
Due to the quiet-hours rule and no television, we went to bed together at the same time — a big change in routine. At home Rob retires after 11 and I fall asleep on the couch. I usually wake around 1 or 2 and go to bed. That leaves no awake time in bed together. At Kripalu we stayed up comparing notes on the workshop and laughing about quirks of the other participants. I felt downright close to him! (I even let him spoon me as we fell asleep.)
