Sunday, January 12, 2003

July 2001

I finally decide to go. Now all I have to do is tell my husband. For the past few months living with me has been hard for him. I have lost myself and he is suffering the fall out. I just don't seem to fit into my own life anymore. Sometimes I feel angry, about what I don't know. Sometimes I feel like banging my head against a wall, but why, I'm not sure. Sometimes my skin feels tight, like it is smothering me and I want to climb out of it and leave it behind. I keep slamming into furniture and doorjambs, leaving bruises on my body. I keep emotionally slamming into my husband, leaving bruises on his psyche.

When I finally tell him about my plans he is dismayed and blurts out, "You want to leave me."
I tell him no, I don't want to leave him. I tell him that I have to go and that I don't really know why. Also, that I am not asking him if I can go but that I think it would be easier for us both if he feels OK about my decision to go. And that he should think about it for a while and then we could talk about it again. For a while things are even more tense at our house. Then a week later I walk up to him as he is cleaning up for lunch and ask him if he is still mad at me. He thinks a minute and then says, "Remember, don't worry about money. Buy the best boot you can find, that's the most important thing."

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