Tuesday, June 2, 2015

going nuts...part one

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...

Sunday, March 29, 2015

shame not bravery...

When people tell me I was SO BRAVE for leaving him, I laugh to myself....sadly.  
It wasn't bravery, it was fucking survival.  I couldn't live another day under the same roof with him.  Not when I knew the truth finally.
I didn't feel like I had a choice.
I had to leave.  
Leave or die.

And even after I left, there were a few months that I didn't care whether I lived or died.  I took insanely crazy risks.   I'm ashamed to admit that I took huge risks with my life.  Stupid ones, because I was in so much pain.

•driving drunk, not just tipsy but drunk. 

•speeding and driving recklessly at high speeds 75mph+, while drinking.  

•mixing HIGH doses morphine and large amounts of alcohol.

•cutting myself as deep as I was able, making sure I drew blood...and a lot of it. 

•walking in areas of downtown Portland late at night that were considered dangerous.

I didn't care anymore.  I almost wanted something horrible to happen to me so I didn't have to face another day.   
I wanted him to mourn me, to feel just an ounce of the pain I suffered.  

The only problem?  He didn't care(anymore).  He didn't see our separation as a mistake.  

He never showed up at my apartment begging me to come back to him, not once.  
He never came after me.

In the end, I wasn't even important enough to chase after, let alone fight for.  

Sunday, March 8, 2015

deal breaker...

He said he wanted to fight for me, wanted us to be together.  That he loved me.  

But when I said I needed him to show me love.  That I couldn't go through years again without sex, without intimacy, without affection.  I couldn't live in a platonic marriage.  

I guess that was the deal breaker for him because he then offered to sleep on the couch.  Which just tells me, he has nothing to give me.  Absolutely nothing.  

I guess it's better to know now.  Then go years barely having sex.  I can't do it anymore.  I just can't.  

And clearly showing me affection, being intimate with me, having sex with me, just isn't something he wants to do with me, his wife.  Not at all.  

It just must be fucking horrible for him to touch me.  

Saturday, March 7, 2015

I am done.  

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

human touch...

I'm only human.  
I need a person's touch.   I crave it.  Yours.  

To feel someone's hand stroke over my hip, a loving caress down my cheek.  

Humans need that contact.   It's a universal fact.  Without human contact, the wiring in our brains start to fall apart.  Short out?

It's been so long, that when you reach out to touch me, it hurts.  It fucking hurts now to feel your touch.  

(It's so fucked up and I don't understand how you can go thru life without someone's(my) touch.  Or are you getting someone's touch?  Just not mine?)

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

I'm worth more...

Let me tell you how your one word answers/texts make me feel...

When I say good morning, or good night, followed by kisses and other expressions of my affection and my love, and you simply say, "morning, and/or nite" and nothing else, it makes my heart hurt.  It makes my tears start to fall, again.  

There is no feeling, no affection, no love behind those one word comments.   They just sit there by themselves.   Alone.  

You aren't telling me to have a good morning, or a good nights sleep.  You aren't even showing any kind of affection let alone love.   It's as if you're talking to a stranger, certainly not your wife, you say you love.  

When I ask(beg), "no kisses?"  It's like begging for your affection/love.   Actually, it's not LIKE begging, it IS begging.  Begging for you to show me you love me, you care for me.  

It makes me feel, exactly feel like you are keeping your love and affection from me...with thought, with purpose.   It sadly reminds me of a time when you gave your love and affection(and time) willingly, happily to me.   

I sit there and look at that one word.  Just like this morning, waiting for more.  Waiting for some kind of hint or hope that that monotone word won't just sit there all alone.   Yet after 20/25 minutes I know no other words are coming.  You've said your piece/peace.  

There is no universe where you don't know or understand what you are doing.  And it's cruel...with everything else going on in our lives, it's fucking cruel how you hold your love out of reach from me.  

How long are you going to keep it from me?   It's been years now, haven't I waited long enough?   Does seeing me like this give you some perverse pleasure?   Dangling it in from of me, and only showing me glimpses of your affection every 6-8 weeks?   

Haven't I proven to you I'm worthy of your love?

I must be a masochist, because I keep coming back for more.   

What scares me, is thinking that you somehow think this is ok, and it's the only way you think to keep me tied to you.   I would have thought after this last year, that you'd realize I'm at my breaking point.  

I'm beyond my breaking point.  

For too long I've questioned my worthiness...and I realize now why.   I deserve to be loved.  
I fucking deserve to be loved damn it. 

I'm tired of reaching for something, that so obviously you don't want to give to me, share with me.  
I'm tired of beating myself up that I'm not worthy enough.  

I'm tired of begging.  I shouldn't have to beg you, to show me love and affection.  

I'm empty.  I have nothing left to give because my soul and heart have not been replenished in years.  

I can't delude myself any longer.  
I just can't, it's killing me inside...and I'm worth more than that.  

I'm worth more...so much more.  

Monday, February 16, 2015

facing fears

I don't think H will ever need/want me with the same consuming need and urgency that I want him. 
And after 26 years together I think I finally need to face this fact.  

I need to stop pretending I can change him or the situation...but the thought of living the rest of my life in a sexless marriage terrifies me and makes my heart hurt. 

Because, of course, I question whether he's seeking sex elsewhere(even with himself)...because he simply doesn't want sex or any kind of intimacy with me.  

At least not with any kind of regularity, and once a month makes me feel unfeminine...unwanted.