trust me, I'd think I was nuts too if I'd been reading this blog for the past year and a half. or maybe longer depending on your opinion. (yes, that's sarcasm)
I get it.
the thing is, I'm as normal as they come. however, it was my circumstances that had changed.
but trust me, when your life appears to be spiralling out of control...every choice seems crazy, hence every decision seems like out right lunacy.
I implied, right after my stay, I was going to eventually tell what happened. I think I'm finally ready to tell the story now. I wanted to tell it as honestly as I could, without making my ex sound like an asshole. I'm going to try. I have no doubt...no doubt, at times I will fail miserably. because at times he was a out right asshole.
to understand what really happened, I have to go back earlier, about 10/11 months.
so here goes.
what lead up to my week stay in the psych ward:
over the last few years, my husband started showing less and less interest in me, sexually.
not just less interest in sex, but less interest in intimacy, as well....to be honest, just less interest in me, period. other than the occasional holding my hand in public, that was the full extent of touching he was willing to share with me.
any time I tried to discuss our marriage, our sex life, it ended in him raising his voice at me and telling me he was just no longer interested in sex. to paraphrase, he told me finally one day, he hated sex, had hated it for a long time. it was just a performance, and that all he'd done for a number of years was perform and he was "tired of performing for me" quote. he went on to say that he was just "faking it" with me and he was done. confused by this, he could see, he explained that he only was doing it because I obviously wanted sex. he got no enjoyment being with me at all.
I was at a loss. I can't begin to tell you all the emotions I felt. betrayed, pathetic, really there are no words. in the end, I walked out, and felt utterly alone. once my brain clicked on, I started to question my entire marriage. how much of it was a lie?
He had always been very sexual. more so than I, at times. I knew he was still masturbating, yet telling me he hated sex? prior he'd been telling me he just had no interest, no sex drive. which was the truth. none of this made(and still doesn't to a certain extent) sense to me.
my thoughts were...he'd prefer to masturbate over have sex with me. what man would choose to do that?
I'm not a model by any means, but I'm certainly not unattractive. I still get hit on every once in awhile, considering I am 46 years old, I can't be all that bad.
and yet, he made me feel oh so unattractive during these years(40-46, at the least), every sexual/intimate advance I made and he denied. and when he didn't, it was hard for me not to get a sense he just wasn't "all there". yet when I'd ask what was wrong, he'd always say nothing, and clam up. it deeply effected my vanity as a woman. every woman has a certain amount of vanity. I felt wholely unfeminine, even if others saw me differently...this was how I saw myself. it was hard to not take it personally. and truthfully I simply could not.
the first few years, it broke my heart. after that a bitterness started to take root. how long was this going to go on, I wondered? would he ever want to hold me, kiss me, make love to me again? at 40, was my sex life essentially over? by 45, it certainly felt that way. but remember, during all those years he told me nothing was wrong. it wasn't until last year, after we separated that he told me this. so at the time, I simply felt he didn't want me anymore.
according to sexual studies, I'd read, I was living in a what was technically called a "sexless marriage", ie. we were having sex once a month or less a year. it would have been less if I hadn't initiated as much as I did....probably half that. 6 times a year or less.
I talked with my girlfriends...even some of my close friends who are men. stunning me, they told me, this wasn't uncommon. some were only having sex 3-4 times a year, some it had been YEARS. even some of my blogger friends emailed me, commenters too...they read between the lines...and at the end, everyone knew. but I didn't know what everyone knew, and that was...this was normal. sadly very normal...that straight married couples weren't having sex in their 40s. at least not the ones that I knew.
now I've veered off topic, as usual, as I try to explain my year and a half downfall.
but I'll tell you this...people need human touch. it's not natural to go thru life not touching one another. out of friendship, out of love, out of companionship, we touch people everyday. because we need it.
for me, living with someone who refused to touch me even in the most basic of ways...holding hands, his hand at the small of my back, kissing my cheek, a hug...even these innocent touches, when one goes without them, especially from someone who "says" they love you but refuses to touch you, even when you ask(which was humiliating to me)...it fucks with your head. it's that simple.
we always had our friendship. we, truthfully enjoyed spending time together. however, as my bitterness grew, and he distanced himself from me, we grew farther and farther apart. I tried to attribute his need for "space" as a sign of the typical male midlife crisis. but to be honest, even I knew I was grasping at straws.
years prior, if we had argued, we still had that physical connection to fall back on. that connection was tangible. like a sturdy rope that held us together. he held the rope, and I never veered too far. after a disagreement, he'd pull me back figuratively, we would reconnect physically, and then try to mend our hurt together emotionally.
unfortunately, as the years with no physical connection started pile up, that rope withered to a thin thread. anything could set him off, and my patience was at an all time low. with no physical or emotional connection to fall back on, we started going our own ways after a fight. nothing was resolved. bitterness grew into resentment on both ends, leaving us with no where to go.
to be cont...