To the extent my last post made it seem like I’m handling things with aplomb, I am not. In addition to being sullen and petulant, for the past two weeks Handsome has also been extraordinarily contrary. I am seemingly incapable of providing a correct answer or opinion to save my life. Everything I have done for the last two weeks has been wrong, apparently. This, combined with the HPV and my mom’s health issues, has taken a toll on me.
One week ago, Handsome and I had the worst fight we have ever had, hands down. I had taken my mom to the doctor that morning and it was a miserably unfortunate appointment. There was not an ounce of good news to be had. I drove her home and stopped to check in with Handsome. He saw me walk in the door and immediately returned to fixing his lunch without a single word to me. I asked if he wanted to talk (no kids around) and he basically said that he didn’t think there was anything to discuss. In hindsight, I should have seen the futility of continuing and I should have walked away.
I didn’t do that, of course, so we ended up in one of those fights where I ask repeatedly why he’s giving up and throwing our family away and he says that he doesn’t know what I want from him. It was ugly. Again, I should have walked away. I didn’t. I was convinced that if I just found the right mix of words and said them in the right order that he would “get it” and … well, you can imagine the foolishness and futility of that endeavor.
And then the argument shifted… almost imperceptibly at first. Rather than the vacant stare and shrugged shoulders and “whatevers” I started to hear statements filled with deep resentment. Things about how I’m trying to change him as a person and he doesn’t like who I’m trying to turn him into. (Um, yeah, you’ve been a selfish liar and a philandering addict and I’d very much like you to have integrity and empathy… my bad, as I thought that’s what you wanted too.) Statements about how not everything that happens to me is his fault (well, the HPV certainly is, asshole). Rants about how there is no point in him calling any of his SA or intensive support people because no one is going to tell him how to feel.
I asked him if he was more interested in protecting himself and his pride than he is in preserving his family. He looked at me with the dead-eyes stare that I’m sure you’ve all seen, gave a little, insolent shrug of his shoulders, and said “I guess so, maybe.”
I am utterly humiliated to say it, but I completely snapped. I lost it on him. If I could put my hand on it, I threw it at him… medicine bottles, a tape measure, the tv remote, his Kindle and phone. He made the mistake of passing by our son’s lacrosse stick, so I grabbed that and nailed him on the arm and shoulder with it before I fell into a sobbing, snotty heap in our foyer.
I cried because he’s biting off his nose to spite his face. I cried because he’s going to hurt our kids and he doesn’t seem bothered. I cried because they are truly innocent victims in all of this. I cried because everyone loves him but he doesn’t love himself. I cried because everything has gone to hell since I shared my HPV result with him. (why?) I cried because he has acted like the HPV is some burden I’m unjustly inflicting on him. I cried because he has broken me.
I never throw things. I think it’s ridiculously childish. I don’t tolerate my kids throwing things. I don’t hit people. Ever. I don’t recall ever hitting another human being in my life. (I don’t even like to point at people for goodness sakes.) And yet I hit him, beating on his arm with my fists. Did he intentionally provoke me? I don’t know. I don’t think so. I think it’s more likely that he just grossly overestimated my ability to hold my crap together in the face of all of his insolence, and the other stress and drama.
I left the house to create some space and returned later and I apologized profusely for my behavior. I owned what I did completely. I did not blame him for causing me to snap. He said he deserved it and probably more. (Far be it for me to suggest that, but since he mentioned it… ) And in the days since then? More of the same detached, disinterested, woe-is-me behavior. He did call his sponsor that day. It didn’t seem to help. He had a chance to go to his preferred SA meeting on the weekend. He chose not to go. No journaling. No phone calls to his SA buddies.
Five days later, at our CSAT session yesterday, late into the hour, he referred to me as an abuser. Technically I did abuse him that day, even if it lasted for mere seconds. (If the shoe was on the other foot there would no doubt be comments suggesting that I get a protection from abuse order or get him into anger management counseling and the like.) He told the CSAT that I injured him. I don’t actually believe that to be true – he has absolutely no bruising or other visible signs of injury on his arms or shoulder (the only places struck by me or anything I threw at him that found its mark). He said that I didn’t apologize “enough.” He may indeed feel that way, but I did apologize profusely and sincerely and with great remorse. I gave him the kind of apology that I always hoped to receive from him. Unfortunately, he didn’t choose to hear it. As I have long suspected, he is not willing to show me the kind of grace that I have been showing him for the last 15 months.
I believe that an apology has three important parts: acknowledge what happened, express sincere empathy and remorse, and make some kind of reparation or atonement. With his own apologies, Handsome struggles with the second step and never manages to get to the third step. Ever. I am trying to make my way through those steps, not solely for him, but because they are important to me. They are important to my own integrity. That behavior is not who I am. (Or is it now? Have I really been damaged and changed that much? My god that’s sad if it’s true.) It is certainly not who I want to be. As easy as it would be to blame him, the years of Handsome’s acting out and deceit and manipulation don’t justify what I did. Explain it, perhaps, but not justify it.
Last evening was blessedly better as he seemed to be trying to get himself back on track. I noticed that he had taken his journals to work (where he normally writes in them) and he had called someone from SA. In a quiet moment I apologized to him, again. He cried and told me how sorry he is that I have to deal with whatever the HPV is going to throw my way. He assured me that we would deal with it together. I hope that is true. He made it to a meeting and came home visibly more grounded.
Was this a “rock bottom” event for us as a couple? I think so. I certainly cannot see myself – cannot allow myself – to sink any further. I cannot wallow in a miserable place. I need to rise, to be the person I was/ am/ want to be so that I can be the mom/ daughter/ friend … and wife… that I know I can be.
