My parents were always very affectionate when I was growing up. It was almost embarrassing how much they hugged and smooched each other, but there was something cool about it because it was obvious that they really loved each other and enjoyed being around one another.

My husband and I used to be pretty affectionate — after all, that's what I grew up with so it seemed natural — but the worse the issues in our marriage became, the less affectionate we became. You would be hard pressed to see us holding hands or embracing each other for longer than a standard, "Hi, welcome home from work" hug. We're so distant from each other that showing affection seems weird. Sometimes, I just don't want him to touch me.

What is this conveying to my kids? I know people say that a separation would damage my kids, but what potential damage are we doing by staying together?

We don't scream at each other, but we don't portray a married couple who necessarily enjoys being around each other. I don't want my kids to get the impression that this is what a marriage is supposed to be like. I know that the example my husband and I set right now will have a lasting impression on our kids forever. I'm really trying to not screw this all up.

I did something last night that I never thought I would do: I "came out" to my friends about the problems my husband and I have been dealing with.

I was out to dinner with four other ladies and the subject of my husband's potential business trip came up. One of the women asked if I would be sad about him leaving again, and it all just came spurting out.

Some things happened that I expected would happen:

-They were all pretty much stunned.

-They wanted to talk about the subject way beyond what I wanted to talk about.

-They all told me they were on my side, which although comforting in a way, I don't want people having to choose sides between me and my husband. It's weird.

There were also some interesting things that happened that I wasn't really expecting:

-My friend sitting next to me didn't say a word, but just put her hand on mine and squeezed. Without a word it was an amazing display of encouragement and sympathy.

-One friend, without being asked, immediately assured me that her parents' divorce when she was young did not adversely affect her. She said that if anything, she's glad her parents divorced because she can tell now as an adult that they aren't compatible and it would have been tough growing up like that.

-Nobody tried to talk me out of leaving my husband.

-Nobody gave me the whole, "...but you guys are so good together!" spiel that I was dreading.

Believe it or not, it was one of the most intimidating things I have ever done. I felt so vulnerable, and I was really afraid that these women would have no way of understanding what I was going through. Although they are all in seemingly great marriages, they all did a fantastic job of not making me feel like an outsider because of my marital issues.

The other day was a doozy. The kids were both stir-crazy because of the rain, and when they get stir-crazy they get awfully clingy and needy. I had three deadlines looming and I had to go to a meeting. The house was a mess and I couldn't figure out a time to go grocery shopping even though the pantry was pretty much bare.

All in all, it was the kind of day where I felt stretched to the limit and although I wanted nothing more than to curl into bed and hide from the world it just wasn't an option.

Too many obligations, and not enough of me to go around.

After the kids were in bed I sat down to punch out the work that I had to do. I figured if I worked for two hours straight I could get to bed before midnight, then the next day I could try to tackle the housework and maybe get to the grocery store if everything worked out.

I had been working for a few minutes when my husband stopped flipping through the television channels and looked over at me. "I need to talk to you about something," he said, and then proceeded to tell me that I wasn't paying enough attention to him.

Now that's bad timing.

I was already on edge because I was trying to deal with so much at once. Sometimes it gets overwhelming: kids, work, keeping up the house...I understand that when I have so much to deal with my husband's need for attention might take a back seat. There are just some times when I have to get stuff done and I don't have the time to fawn over him.

That either makes me a realist, or it makes me incredibly insensitive to my husband's needs. Or maybe I'm an insensitive realist.

I work hard. It would be great to end an evening with my husband saying something along the lines of, "I know you've been stretched thin lately. What can I do to help?" instead of, "Pay more attention to me."

A comment from previous post got me thinking about something that I need to clarify: If I ever gave the impression that I am without blame in the problems within my marriage, it was not intentional. If anything, I carry a huge burden on my shoulders and in my heart because of the things I did (or didn't do, but should have) that may have contributed to our problems.

I can be critical of my husband. Oftentimes I bring my experiences with my father into what I expect from my husband. My dad was often unemployed and relatively lazy, and sometimes I expect my husband to fall into similar patterns if he doesn't stay exactly on track.

I do not do well taking a backseat to things. I want to be involved in every major decision, and I think that sometimes this may make my husband feel as though I don't allow him to wear the metaphorical pants in the family.

When things started getting rough between my husband and me, I turned toward my work instead of forcing the issue. Maybe if I had persisted in aggressively fixing things, we wouldn't be in the spot we're in now.

I have a hard time forgiving him for the stuff he has put me through. If I could just get over it, I think we could just be a happy little family.

I readily admit all these things. There has never been a time when I considered myself blameless in this whole mess. I refuse to accept that it's all my fault, though. I think we're both to blame in one way or another, and that's why I was so adamant that we needed to be in therapy together.

In other words, we made this mess together, so we might as well try to solve it together.

If I ever made anyone think that every single bit of marital problems we have are all because of my husband, then I wasn't getting my point across very well.

Let me tell you what it's like to lay down for bed every night next to a man who you aren't sure you're supposed to still be with, although I'm sure there are plenty of you who already know what this experience is like.

I usually go to bed an hour or so after my husband because I work from home at night after the kids have gone to sleep. When I walk into the bedroom I walk quietly because I don't want to wake him. I slink into the bed as quietly as possible and don't move unless I have to. I try to settle into one position and I don't cough or fidget or roll over.

It's not that I'm such a nice wife that I don't want to wake him, although there's some of that there. The main reason I go through this ritual every night is because I don't want him waking up and thinking that we're going to indulge in some lovemaking. I don't want him rolling over and putting his arm around me. Some nights, his arm around me feels like I'm being smothered. I don't want him waking up and wanting to have some sort of deep conversation.

I'm exhausted, and I want to sleep.

It's impossible to not think about relationship issues when I'm lying in bed in silence, next to the man who has caused me so much grief. When he stirs and starts making the moves on me, I feel trapped. I want to cry. I want to push him away, pack my bags, and never come back.

As I experience these emotions I wonder if it's even possible for a relationship to bounce back when it has reached such a low point. How do you go from lying in bed, praying that your husband doesn't touch you, to one day looking forward to ending your evening with a nice snuggle?

Long story short: I don't know how to change how I feel.

If you would have taken a glimpse into my relationship with my husband a year ago and then had a look at it recently, you would probably notice something right away. A year ago my husband was a different guy. He didn't seem to care less if I was fighting a high fever, or if I had a deadline, or if the kids gave me a really trying day.

It didn't matter. He still wasn't going to lift a finger to help because keeping the house going was my job. Keeping the kids happy was my job. It just didn't seem to matter if I was wandering around in an exhausted stupor, because he was happy and had his video games to occupy him.

Cut to present day. Something about me trying to leave shook him up enough to where he does the things I always thought he should do be doing anyhow: he takes the kids when I have a lot of stuff to do, he'll make dinner once in a while if I'm running late getting home, and he'll encourage me to take a short nap if I'm not feeling well.

Those may sound like normal things a husband would do, but for me it's a 180 degree change from how things once were.

So what's the problem? Now that he's doing all the things I once wished he would do, why can't I just be happy? This is a question I have been struggling with for a while now. I think it all boils down to this: Why did it have to take me trying to leave for him to finally notice that something had to change?

For a couple of years I was obviously stressed out, exhausted and generally unhappy with the way things were. I told him things needed to change. I asked him to go to counseling with me. I begged him to cut back on his video game time. Really, if my bursting into tears at the drop of a hat wasn't a pretty good sign that things weren't working, what was?

My husband wants to go to a marriage retreat. It's for a full weekend, so we would have to leave the kids with someone else and then make the drive five hours to the retreat location. I don't like the idea of leaving my kids with someone else — especially since we don't have any family nearby — but as I keep saying, I'm willing to do whatever I need to in an attempt to save the marriage.

He's inquiring about availability now. I've talked to some couples who have gone to this same retreat and they all sing praises about the program. Apparently this particular program has saved many a marriage and lit sparks under others that weren't troubled but were bordering on stale. Could this be the thing that saves our marriage?

To be honest with you, the very first thought that entered my head when he brought up the idea was, "Damn it, he's going to want to have sex with me." I can see it now...we're away from the kids, away from work, and we're staying in a hotel room. He will think this translates into romance, while I automatically think about how great it will be to sleep without keeping one ear poised to listen for the kids. Ask me if a weekend in a hotel with my husband appeals to me right now, and I'll admit to you that no, it doesn't, not really.

Yes, we still have sex here at home, but it's usually him doing his business while I lay there and wait for him to finish. Take this to a hotel and he'll be expecting me to be all into the act, having a great time and really whooping it up.

It seems to me that a change in environment won't change the things that are stopping me from being truly intimate with my husband, but I know I'll feel compelled to oblige him with at least some physical intimacy.

Wouldn't it be great if these retreats offered separate rooms until other issues were resolved? I'd go to that one for sure.

I don't think my husband has ever cheated on me...physically. I have a pretty good inkling that he's had some emotional attachments to other women, especially the female gamers who he encountered when he was playing his online game seven or eight hours a day.

I don't know much about the world of gaming, but my guess is that they have virtual dating rituals in their alternate world just like in the real world. My guess is he probably "met up" with more than one woman to go slay dragons or whatever other stupid things online gaming flirting entails.

But I digress.

After I had our first baby and stopped working out of the home I noticed that my husband started mentioning a woman in his office a bit more than he probably should have. "Beth" went out for coffee and brought him some, too. Beth asked for advice about a certain project. Beth doled out parenting advice.

Beth, Beth, Beth. I was sick of hearing about Beth, but as far as I knew he only had so much interaction with him because their desks were next to each other.

Besides, it must have been refreshing to have a conversation with a woman who wasn't covered in spit-up and ridiculously sleep-deprived. So for the most part, I just tried to ignore the feeling in my stomach that he was getting too attached to Beth.

One day he came home from work and I noticed a pink pen mark across his hand. He saw me looking at it and said, "Oh, this is..."

"...a pen mark from Beth from when she was joking around with you at work?" I finished for him. He stood there with his mouth open, probably convinced that I was a psychic or something.

"How did you know?" he asked, truly in awe.

How did I know? Probably because I remember how some women flirt. If you have the hots for the guy who sits next to you at work, you might do some giggling and have a little pen fight...with a pink pen, of course. How cliché.

I've mentioned before that my husband and I are very active members of our church, and that our marital problems are not common knowledge within the congregation. We're still seen as the perfect couple, which sometimes is comforting to me while other times it can be quite a burden.

For a while I attended a "Tea Time" that the pastor's wife hosts. It's a group that meets once a week to allow the moms to sit and chat while the young kids play together for about an hour or two.

I usually love doing stuff like this because I really like getting the chance to socialize while my kids get to hang out with their little friends.

Before my husband and I started having overwhelming problems I attended happily. The group took a break for a few months, and then I took the winter off from the group because my son is prone to catching colds from other kids really easily. Consequently, by the time I reentered the group I was smack in the middle of a marital crisis.

None of these ladies knew that I was having big problems with my husband. As we sat and chatted about the weather and about the milestones our kids were experiencing, I started getting the overwhelming feeling that I just didn't belong there.

All these women are in happy marriages, I thought to myself. There's no way they would understand what I'm going through. I felt like an outsider...an intruder.

I think I actually encountered what might be labeled a mini-anxiety attack: My heart started beating really fast, I started sweating, and I had a horrible feeling of impending dread. I really felt like I might pass out. All this from sitting among other women, chatting pleasantly.

I quit the group. Logically I know that I can't possibly presume that every woman there has a peachy-keen life, and for all I know they all might be very understanding and helpful if I was to share my problems with them.

I finally managed to get my husband into a marital therapy session. Some of you may remember that we had an appointment a little while ago but he flaked out on it by staying home with a cold.

I sat him down soon after that and explained to him that I didn't buy his excuse and that if he was trying to crush me emotionally, he was doing a bang-up job of it. Luckily, he caught on that I was hurt, and he showed up to the appointment this time.

It was really weird. My husband and I have been doing a really good job of ignoring our problems while I worked my way through individual therapy, so now that we were actually sitting in the therapist's office it seemed really unnatural to have someone urging us to air out all our dirty laundry.

My husband and I sat there paralyzed, not really knowing what to do. It's funny...I thought for sure that when the time came for us to attend counseling together it would be a crazy free-for-all of us screaming at each other and getting all our frustrations out.

I've since learned that having a therapist in the room doesn't really change our natural pattern of fighting: avoidance and resentment. Now we just sit there and don't address the issues, but we're paying someone to witness the whole ordeal. It seems kind of stupid, doesn't it?

We have another appointment in a couple of weeks, but in between (surprise, surprise) my therapist wants to continue seeing me on an individual basis. There was no mention of my husband going in to see a therapist individually.

That means I get to continue on trying to figure out how to get over the resentment I have toward my husband, and every other week my husband and I get to sit down with the therapist and not solve anything.

Isn't therapy wonderful?