Taking another dip after a long high.
Mr. Aubrie tanked over the weekend. Badly. I'm not entirely sure what triggered it. It seems that he's come to grips with the A(s). But now he's seeing how my waywardness affected literally every aspect of our marriage. And it's hard for him to look at. I've tainted everything. I was much more cruel than what I was willing to admit.
Abandonment was mentioned. His family. The were never there for him. They gave him life, and then left him to his own devices. He was not supported emotionally or physically. They would use and abuse him to their advantage. If he would pull away or try to stand up for himself, they guilted him about it. Told him he was stupid and/or stubborn.
Abandoned by me. I was physically there for him but emotionally, the door was closed, locked, and barricaded.
When we got married, he had this vision of what a good marriage looked like. He saw relationships all around us that he didn't want. He was hoping for something different with us. But like he said, "You were very young. Stupid. And had a lot of growing up to do." We were speaking completely different languages at completely different levels.
I have not only been abused, but I have abused. More than I ever realized. Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday nights I've listened to him talk about the old days. Alot of it I don't remember till he brings it up. I was so caught up in my cloud if idiocy, many of the details fail me. He on the other hand has a photographic memory. He remembers it all. In vivid, horrible detail. And he can't forget them.
I was so mean. So very cruel. Who did I think I was to say those terrible things to him? To beat him over the head with it? I had so much hate and anger towards his family. I could see what they were doing. But I couldn't see it in myself. Yeah, I know. Hypocrite.
This week feels much like it did shortly after Dday. Not much sleep. Lots of hurt, tears, frustrations, talking, emotional hangovers, and zombie-like days. Not only am I dealing with our own set of problems, but my sister is miscarrying. I'm bouncing from her crisis, my own feelings from my miscarriage resurfacing, and also the abandonment stuff. We both feel like emotional punching bags. We go from talking about my baby, to whatever he's thinking, to my sister's baby, to something else in a matter of minutes. It's a mess.
He is talking. Alot. Which is huge in itself. He must feel safe. So he is bringing this to me. God it hurts to watch him talk. The pain etched in his features. The slump in his posture. To hear him recount everything.
I loved him. It wasn't a healthy love by any stretch of the imagination, But I loved him the best I knew how. And it fell so short. He was such a gentle person. He was kind, considerate, stable, humble, and honest. I knew he wouldn't hurt me like my ex. They were polar opposites. I gravitated towards the safety that he offered.
But in my broken mind, I used all those things I loved about him, against him. I became the dominate, mouthy, abusive, dangerous person that I'd come to fear in my ex. I became my own worst nightmare. And that has hit me like a Mac truck this week. All the rehashing and talking had struck a chord and it's devastating all over again.
Books are ordered and on their way. I will definitely be reading them. I told Mr. Aubrie what they were, what they were for. If he wants to read them, he is more than welcome, I'm sure they'd be a great help, but it's completely his choice.
Improvements that I see during all this:
1. He feels safe enough to talk to me. I'm listening. And thinking before I open my mouth. We're communicating in a civil, open way.
2. We're supporting one another in all issues we're involved with this week.
3. We both acknowledge that our feelings are valid. No belittling, no down playing.
This crap is still tough.