Wow. So where do I begin? My story actually starts four years ago when my husband went through his “first MLC”. He woke up one morning and out of the blue, announced to me that he wasn’t living the life he was supposed to be living, loved me but not in love with me, etc... you know the drill. Once I had gotten over the shock, I made the decision to stand (didn’t know then what it was called) and told him that divorce was not an option (financially it was impossible), that I felt he was clinically depressed (and out of his mind) and that it was his responsibility to do what he needed to do to get his head on straight. And then I stepped back and that is what he did. What followed was six months of self exploration - some counselling, joined a men’s group, went on a couple of men’s retreats, and spent one month living in his friend’s garage. I did my best to support everything but also to take care of my own needs. Three months after his declaration, I even forced myself to go on a planned trip to Hawaii by myself while he stayed home with the kids. Hardest thing I ever did but I was determined. Long story short, he returned home of his own accord a month after moving out claiming to be back to “normal” and “in love” with me again. When asked about the previous months of confusion, he would tell me that everything was “fuzzy” and he felt like he had been in a fog and not thinking clearly. Two months after his return, he developed Shingles which became somewhat chronic and necessitated a lot of treatment that had him staying away nights in a local hospital. Unbeknownst to me, at some point during that time, the treatment slowed down but he went back to his MLC ways only this time, he was camping out at various places pretending to be at the hospital and avoiding me and his “life”. Looking back, I recall that he seemed quite depressed but I chalked it up to the Shingles. Fast forward to 2017 with this strange life of being home for short periods of time and gone for long periods of time but all the while working full-time save for one month in 2016 when he took a medical leave. It seems like a long period of time to live like that and honestly, I think there were many times when I questioned things but he would always have an answer that seemed plausible and there was a part of me that was just too tired dealing with everything and really didn’t want to know. In 2017, my mom was dying of cancer and I got the idea that we should move closer to my family which was in a much less expensive area to live. I found a job posting within my organization that I felt I would get and approached him with the idea of moving. I kind of expected him to balk at the idea but to my surprise, he was super enthusiastic and within three months, I got the job, he found one too, we sold our house for a ridiculous amount of money, paid off every debt we had and bought a beautiful ocean view dream home for cash in the new community. I thought we were home free as many of our stresses just went away. For the first eight months we were here, he was like a different person. Happy, engaged, present, pain well-managed, future-oriented, and satisfied with his life. We bought a boat (he had always wanted one), spent time fishing and boating together and just basically enjoyed our new reality. We even took our family on a trip to Mexico which is something we hadn’t been able to do since our kids were 7 months old... they are almost 11.
Then...without warning... his pain returned in March 2018 and he announced to me that he had to go back to the hospital. And he did this... for awhile... and, like before, when the treatment regimen stopped being every night, he continued to act as if it was still continuing and spent almost every night away from home... but continued to work and come home until around 5 or 6 when he would leave. I know now that he wasn’t going to the hospital but was spending alone time on our boat (my key went “missing” around then so I would have to borrow his if I wanted to go down there) and then in June he sold his beloved car that he had been restoring and told me he was going to use the money to restore a different vehicle. I later found out that he has been using the money to rent a suite for himself where he continued to spend his evenings isolating from the world. All of this eventually came to a head almost a month ago after my suspicious brother-in-law decided to put a tracker on his car and found out where he was going. Of course, everyone assumed it was an affair and I confronted him on it but he swore up and down that it was not (“just a really messed up guy”} and the next morning (he stayed the night in our home), he took me there so I could see where he had been living. Sure enough... tiny little depressing place with many items from our home that I hadn’t yet realized were missing and no sign of anyone else... and I looked very carefully. When I asked him “why”, all he could tell me is that he “couldn’t stand living with me anymore” [huh? I had barely seen him and when I did, we didn’t fight, I supported him in everything he wanted to do, I was literally killing myself to not stress him out as I thought it would just make his pain worse]. He later backtracked on that and said that as crazy as it sounded, it was the only place he could go where the noise in his head would go away and he could just concentrate on one thing. He also laughed when I suggested he might still be lying about an affair and said that he has lost all interest in sex with anyone and has become almost asexual... definitely depressed because this was not him. He then proceeded to stay home for three days straight listening to me toss “truth darts” in his direction and breaking down at various points saying that he didn’t deserve me, that he used to be a good person, etc... a lot of shame and guilt. Finally after three days, he asked me if he could return to his place in the evenings to think and process and when he was able to do that, he said it helped him. He also went to our local crisis clinic (crying the whole way there apparently)and got a counsellor and signed up for group therapy to help him deal with his depression and anxiety. He has attended those weekly for the past three weeks. Sounds like a good step, right? Only one hitch... a week ago last Sunday, he announced to me that he felt like he wasn’t ready to return home and although he didn’t use those words, he intimated that he was thinking about divorce and had not given notice at his place like he said. He then left and I had a horrible six hours of emotional pain which I had to hide from our children. Why six hours? Because, six hours after he left, he texted me to say that I had been right... that he had run away and hadn’t tried to make things work with us. He said he was ashamed and sorry and didn’t know how he could ever recover or face anyone but that he wanted to come home and try to regain my trust. The next day he texted me random ideas about what he thought might help and we even met for coffee. I, of course, supported him and told him that we would work it out. In hindsight, I might have been too enthusiastic because he stayed at his place “packing and processing” and I agreed to it because he told me he would be returning that Sunday with all of his stuff. For the remainder of the time, he was around helping with house stuff and seeing the kids and having lots of good talks but always running off to his place to sleep and ‘think”.
On Sunday morning, he comes over without his things and asks if we can talk. He then stares at me in a forlorn way and I know... he doesn’t want to come home. He then tells me that he still does not feel ready to come home and starts talking about possibly staying a couple more weeks. At this point, I am not happy at all and I realize in that moment that if he comes home, he will be distracted by everything else going on and not focusing on himself. I also realized that I didn’t want to have to walk on eggshells around him and feeling like I was auditioning for my role as his wife. So...I found myself taking a deep breath and doing the exact opposite of what I wanted... I told him to go... not in anger, more like in resignation. I told him that I didn’t want him home until he really wanted to be there and wanted to work on our relationship. I didn’t talk with him about timelines or rules or anything... just asked him to leave and told him I would be taking a step back and giving him space to work things out. I made sure he knew the door was open for him to contact me if he needed to talk but that I would only be contacting him regarding the children and was going to use the time to figure out who I was as I think that has been lost in the last four years with me focusing solely on his needs.
And so it has been three days and I have been as quiet as I can be. It’s been tough. He came by yesterday morning to take our daughter to tutoring. I plastered a pleasant smile on my face and it was awkward. Luckily they had to rush off. Later that afternoon, I had to text him about parent-teacher interviews and it was a very pleasant exchange that went on longer than it needed to. He was actually writing quite a bit (unusual) and even complimented me on my parenting and offered to take our son shopping for clothing. I suggested he do that on Sunday as I was having guests for dinner (my attempt at GAL) and I knew our son would not like what was being served. Friday is the next day I know I will see him, our daughter has a belt test for her TKD and wants us both there. I am gearing myself up to look happy, calm and totally kid-focused, say goodbye as soon as it ends and then I will hold my head up high and walk away without looking back. Just have to make sure I sit closer to the door than he does.
Anyway...that’s my story thus far. Sorry for how wordy it is. Hard to sum up the last four years in a few paragraphs.
