Sometimes life kicks you in the stomach. You can’t breathe. You can’t see straight. You can’t eat. The monster inside you grabs hold and doesn’t let go. I’ve been crying on and off for weeks now. Sad about everything going on with my husband. I talked to him yesterday. From what he says it seems he’s depressed and doesn’t understand his feelings or how to sort through them. I wish he would go back to therapy but he says no. I think what’s holding him back is fear. I think he’s scared to look in the mirror. I think he’s scared of what he is going to see.
I don’t know how to help him. And I know all of you reading this are sitting there shaking your heads thinking that’s not my responsibility, especially after how he has mistreated me all these years. Part of me agrees with you. There’s a part of me that just doesn’t want to care.
That’s not me.
I’m the one who cares. No matter how poorly I’ve been treated I always care. We are married after all. As such, I am trying so hard to let him find himself or whatever it is he is looking for. I’m trying to give him space and not berate him for his faults. I’m trying to support him, because when I said I do I promised to do all that and more.
We all need a good cry. Today I’m at my parents house alone. Ariana is at school and Gabe actually came through and took his son for the day. As I lay here on the couch I let it out. The pain, the sadness, I let it free. Not too much, since dad is asleep but just enough so I could breathe.