Learning to Trust Myself VI

[heatherg]

One of the reasons that I'm not as hopeful about MC as I would be otherwise is that I don't think we're going to be able to go on a regular enough basis to make an impact. At the end of our last session, the C asked if we could come back next week. H said no because he would be recovering from having his tonsils out. She asked about the following Monday. H balked at that too because he might have to go out of town that week which would make his Monday really busy. If he goes out of town, who knows how long it will be before we can go again. I suggested we make the appt for Monday and if we need to cancel, we will. The counselor flat out told us that we have to be able to come regularly in order to make any difference. She said this isn't something we can do every couple of months or else it will be like starting over every time. Because I have lots of experience with H's travel and I know it can be often and without much notice, I am not optimistic about how frequently we'll be able to go.

I know things take time and I know I'm not a patient person. But afer a year a half, it seems like it's time to get serious. I've told him before that I'm not living the rest of my life like this. And yet, look how long it's been! And things are still the same, deep down. We still have the same arguments, the same issues, the same disrespect. We may be making some surface progress now and then where we're nice to either other, but hell, I'd expect my freakin roomate to be nice to me-this is my husband. I expect more. I want more and I deserve more.
Throughout the drinking, I feel like I've been waiting for 'more' our entire relationship. Here we are 11 years into it and I'm still waiting. Waiting. Getting along for a while, feeling good, optimistic. Then bam. I'm being ignored. And all the while, even when things are 'good', I can't even sleep in my own bed or give my H a kiss if the urge arises. I don't even know if I COULD kiss him at this point. It's become such a thing......like a dog being told no so long that he won't do it even if you tell him it's ok. I had a dog like that once. He wasn't allowed in the living room all of my younger years. As I got older, my parents softened up toward my animals and would try to invite him further into the house. My dog would not go. Until the day he died, he was fearful of going into our living room. That's what I feel like-a scared fu@king dog. 'Good' has a new meaning for me now. It simply means 'not absolutely miserable'. That's all I dare hope for from this M.
Even after H decides to ignore me, then decides to stop, he can look me square in the eye and tell me that it is me who determines the temperature of our R. That's what he told me yesterday when we briefly argued about his mom being the emergency point of contact. He said I determine how we get along. Same thing he always tells me. And you know what? He really believes it. Because he really believes I had no right to consider that business dinner. Therefore, how he has treated me is a direct result of MY misbehavior. He really thinks this way. No matter what he does, leaves me at the mall, locks me in the laundry room, calls 911 on me, it is all a result of my misbehavior, I've somehow brought it on myself.

Yeah, I know I'm not perfect. But I'm a hell of a lot closer than he is and I'm getting sick of waiting for him to catch up.

Sorry for the vent, better here than out loud I guess.

Thanks for listening.