Okay . . .

I am in a better place today. I hate when things are unresolved. Three things have been resolved since my last (real) post.

1. I found out that I did not get the job that I interviewed for (which is okay because I was ambivalent about it but it would be nice to have the job search resolved)
2. I took my final and finished my class (webcoding I - I start webcoding II in a couple of weeks if I don't drop it)
3. Eddy got over being pissed about the whole history thing (I think)

I go into this vortex downward-spiral panic depression thing when we are on the outs. At the height of this conflict (Friday night) I wanted to scream, choke him, walk out, cut my hair off, smash something, throw up, drive into a tree . . . . Yikes. Instead I didn't yell, didn't say anything, and cried a little (no noise).

He walked out (to go pick up a prescription from the drug store - I knew that is where he was going, so that was okay). I cried a little more and then pulled myself together, so I could study for my exam. I also knew enough to know that my spiral would blow over before too long. It is like bracing myself for a wave in the ocean.

When he came back, he seemed to be rather over being pissed and then I felt okay.

I hate that my emotions are tied to his sometimes. I like to think that I am getting over that. If I were really over that, instead of crying quietly, I would have defended myself more and fought with him. BUT a year ago I would have been apologizing all over myself instead of crying. Maybe I am making progress after all.

My Mother was (what am I saying? - IS) a yeller, and I have sworn up and down to never be like that. But her results and mine are really the same - we aren't heard. My Dad blows it off and doesn't listen to her because she is hysterical.

Anyway, (how did I get to talking about my Mother?) . . . anyway, just because someone (a wife for example) isn't saying anything, doesn't mean that everything is okay.

B

In which I am caught red-handed.

Accidental Christian: What the h*ck happened?

I am glad that Eddy is back. You will have to read his post (link above) to understand this one.

I should have known better than to invade his history. . . trust is important, and since I put that deposit on that apartment without telling him first (that I ended up not renting) trust has definitely been an issue between us.

When I stop to think about it, I am dumbfounded, shattered, and still can't quite grasp how much everything has changed over the last two years. We used to trust each other implicitly. I hate when things get broken.

I hate that we are growing apart. But for our own sanity, we need to grow apart. (sigh). We need space to be who we are, which, I guess, goes back to his needing a more private space in which to write.

If I had thought about it, I would not have looked simply because in the past, I have stumbled over stuff that I wish to this day that I had never found. I'd really rather just not know (I think). Maybe it is better to know. I don't know. I want to know what really is going on his head (I think). Maybe I don't want to know. I guess that I DO want to know where I stand. I know that he as as confused about all of this as I am.

The thought of him looking for someone to hook up with had never crossed my mind (until now). Holy Crap.

B

Funkytown

I am definitely in a funk - and on the edge of a bigger funk. Emotionally, I feel like I am treading really hard just to keep my head above the water. I have been "hanging in there" for what seems like forever.

Two years of this rollercoaster is a very long time. Twice we have told our son that we are divorcing. Twice we have told him that we have changed our minds. This has to be Hell for him. A couple of weeks ago, I put a deposit on an apartment. I would have moved out this past Saturday. Now, I am in a completely different place with all of this, thinking, could this work out somehow?

And now, he is acting kind of withdrawn.

That, and this job-hunting is making me exteremely anxious. I have I don't know how many resumes out there. I got another rejection letter yesterday for something I can't believe that I didn't even get an interview for.

I had my third interview two days ago and expect to hear today or Monday. I am ambivalent about this job. It would take a lot of emotional energy. On the other hand, maybe it would pull me out of this funky place.

I am so restless. I can't concentrate at work. I check my email constantly. I can't do any work without listening to the radio or playing with a pen or something.

I feel compelled to eat. Yesterday, in the afternoon, I had the urge to eat something. I did what my therapist said to do - just sat there and got in tune with my body to figure out what was really going on - what I was trying not to think about. It was like opening a door to a room that I didn't want to go into, a room that was pitch black with maybe no floor. I felt sad, very very sad. I didn't keep that door open very long.

I am afraid that if I don't find a new job soon that I will sink deeper to the point of inertia - not sending out resumes. I am terrified of that.

I just want something good to happen. I am trying to make it happen. I guess that I feel worn down.

Sorry to be so gloomy,

B

Job Interview

I am job hunting <---- hate it! I had an interview today for an actual writing job, writing for the in-house newsletter for this big company where I already work but my job is being relocated and ends in June. It was a totally normal interview (Thank God). No questions like, "If you were a vegetable, what kind of vegetable would you be?" (I don't know, what kind of vegetable do you think that I look like?) Just normal questions like . . . "Have you ever had a job where you had to write under pressure?" And I said, "only this one that I'm in now, where I have to finish my blog posting before my boss comes around." Just kidding! Didn't say that. Think it went okay. Will let you know. I am actually kind of scared to get a job that pays well enough that I would have options that I don't want to think about (like separating and all of that). This job would be kind of in-between -- a more than I'm making now, but not as much as he's making kind of thing. Fairly safe. My therapist thinks that I am scared to death of separation - physical and psychic (which is known as individuation in psycho-babble). Whatever.

I think that she is right. I hate that.

B

He read this, and I didn't throw up.

Sunday night, Eddy read my blog. All weekend, I was waiting for him to and when I thought about it, I would feel like throwing up -- I guess because I was afraid of conflict. I thought that he would hate me after reading it. I used to throw up a lot when I was angry and afraid to say it. I have not done that for a very very very long time although I still am angry and afraid to say things.

We were in bed, and I went to kiss him, when he pulled away and said that his depression and suicidal fantasies had nothing to do with me and that he wouldn't kill himself just because I left him, if I left him.

And I said, "You read my blog." Then after a minute, I said, "Statistically, though, the odds of you killing yourself are higher if I do leave."

He talked about his anger -- toward himself.

Eddy's anger comes out as anger toward everyone on earth. The guy tailgating him. The guy driving slowly in front of him. The guy slowing down to make a turn. People he works with. My family. His family. The cat who trips him and sheds. He talks angrily about them with me there.

I always feel like the anger is pouring out at me. I always try to cheer him up, distract him, calm him down. I feel like the anger is mine and if I could just swallow it all, then it would be gone and he would be happy.

I told him that. He said that I didn't need to do that.

I grew up doing this with my Mother. My first memory is me sitting on the kitchen floor with my Mom and Dad there. I was trying to put on a sock. I am very little - 3? My Mom says, "D" she is putting it on upside down; help her." She was angry. I remember wondering how I could put a sock on upside down if it only had one hole. I remember trying to get it on, so my Mom would stop yelling at my Dad. She always yelled at my Dad. She still does. I felt like it was my job to make it okay, fix it, calm her down.

When I say that I married you because you are like my Mother, this is what I mean. As with my Mother, if I could just fix you, then you could take better care of me.

But I am almost 40. I need to take care of myself. And let you take care of yourself. (sigh)

I am not used to this.

B

If I love my gay husband, does that mean that everything is okay?

I reread my last post and it looked a hell of a lot too rosy.

So, I had to ask myself: If I love my gay husband, does that mean that everything is okay?
. . . and came up with more questions:

• Is it okay that he doesn't have the insatiable urge to f*ck me? NO
  
• Is it okay for me to live with him, just waiting for the other shoe to drop? NO
  
• Is it okay for me to live with an angry and miserable man? NO

I don't like the other option either:

• Moving out (The thought of moving makes me sick)
  
• The financial strain that moving out would bring
  
• Breaking up my family
• The grief that my son and I would have to go through
• Missing him
• Missing being married to him
• My religious parents being weird about the whole thing and wanting to spend more time with me
  
• Upsetting his church
• Missing people at church
• People at church wondering what the hell happened? They seemed okay.
• People at church figuring out that my husband is gay.
• My husband losing his job (he is a pastor) because he is gay (even though he hasn't done anything)
• The whole mess putting him over the edge to the point where he kills himself

My therapist says:

• It is not my job to fix him.
  
• Trying to protect him doesn't help him.
  
• He would find ways to deal with all of it.
  
• And that I can't keep him alive.

Maybe we can find a way to live together.
Maybe we can't.

If we stay together are we both in denial?

What sucks is that I really do love him. Damn it.

What was he thinking?

Could I ever love a straight man?

First, I want to thank everyone for all of their kind comments. I will try to keep writing.

I have been asking myself --- how could I not have realized that my own husband is gay? We had known each other for eighteen years before he came out to me. When he told me, I was shocked, but at the same time not entirely surprised. His confession seemed to make a million things make sense, two in particular:

• his self-loathing
• our sex life for the last half of our marriage

I always knew . . . that something was bugging him. I just did not know what it was. I never suspected (consciously at least) that he was gay. Looking back, there were certainly clues, but out of context, the "clues" could have been anything. And there were plenty of reasons for me to believe that he wasn't gay.

The clues:

• On our wedding night, I had a dream about his best friend from high school "L" (who is gay). I dreamed that L's penis was about three feet long and looked like Pinnochio's nose (when lying). Was that a subconscious clue?
• E's best friend from college, "M" is also gay. (Although neither ever knew the other was gay).
• E broke up with me three times before our final engagement. He always said that I could "do better than him."
• His sibs all gossiped that he broke our first engagement because he was gay.
• He has a better sense of style than I do and likes shopping just as much as I do.
• He was a church organist (apparently, the most sure sign, I am told).
• He was in school musicals.
• He subscribed to Martha Stewart Living.
• He did not have guy friends.
• He looks great in pink.
• I was the first girl that he had ever dated.
• He had told me that before he met me he did not think that he would ever get married.
• He hates sports.
• He has the best handwriting of anyone in our generation that I have ever known.
• The only lingerie that he has ever bought for me (and it has only been twice) has had long pants.

On the other hand:

• I was and still am more attracted, sexually, to him than any other guy I have ever known.
• There was definitely some kind of chemistry for both of us. While he did not pressure me for sex while dating (like other guys that I dated), he certainly wasn't shy and we certainly were not innocent. And our religious beliefs called for no sex before marriage anyway.
• For many years, our sex life was completely normal. When it stopped being normal, there were particular health and medication reasons that would explain away any lack of sex drive.
• The lack of lingerie I ascribed to him not treating me as a crass sex object. He has always respected me as a person, has not been paternalistic.
• Wearing pink, being a church organist, having cold feet, great handwriting, even subscribing to Martha . . . possible clues maybe, but not solid evidence of anything.
• I always believed that he was the most honest and trustworthy person I had ever known; certainly, there had never been any reason for me not to have trusted him. I thought that I knew him inside out.

And . . . when I fell in love with him, I fell in love with all of the "gay" things about him. In fact, it is those things that I love the most about him. I can't imagine being with some left-brained guy who understands football, doesn't love literature, hates to shop, and never cries.

"Hey, maybe I'm not gay!"

Hurricane writes about his wife:

She and I became the best of friends in college and when the relationship took a romantic turn, I was both surprised (because I knew then how difficult it was for me with women) and delighted (because, hey, maybe I'm not gay!) . . .

Even physical intimacy wasn't a problem for us for most of the marriage. We eased into it so slowly with our friendship and courtship, that when it was time to perform, I wasn't afraid. It came as naturally to me as I think it could, and I felt so close to her. In fact, the relative lack of sexual disfunction in our life is one of the reasons she never really suspected that I was gay.

This post helps me understand my husband. What I still don't understand is - What happened? Why did the "maybe I'm not gay" wear off? When did it wear off?

Maybe there are no answers here.

B

Honey, he's gay.

Hi - I'm Bea, better known as B. I tend to leave a lot unsaid, which is not exactly helping me at the moment. Maybe if I say things here, I will be able to say them outloud.

Right now I am in a closet, actually kind of "the closet".

My husband (of more than 15 years) was in "the closet" until about two years ago. He came out to me, but then dragged me in there with him. So here I sit in the dark, where it is difficult to breathe, it is impossible to see things clearly, and it just plain stinks.

I hate it.

When he told me that he is and always has been gay, it changed everything - not just my present and my future, but it changed our past - my past. It rewrote history. How many things can do that?

He says:

1. I was always genuinely attracted to you.
2. I am still attracted to you.
3. I have never been with a man.
4. I don't want to do anything with a man.
5. I don't want anything to change between us.

The only item above that I believe is c.

I know that he loves me. We have a very strong friendship. We are very close, but I think that what we have is different than a or b. I think that he wanted to believe that he could be straight, and that he really really tried. But I don't think that it was everything that I thought that it was.

Sometimes I feel like I am the butt of a practical joke -- I wasn't on the "in".

Sometimes I feel very cheated. I never imagined even thinking about divorce before this. No matter what, my life is not going to be what I had imagined.

Regarding c: has he ever been with another man? I went to a straight spouse support group . . . once. When I said that my husband is gay, but has never done anything gay, they all laughed at me for being so naive. Their husbands (ex-husbands) were promiscuous -- with both men and women (apparently to prove their masculinity or something.) So if you are laughing at me here, you are not the first. But I believe that my husband ("E") does have a certain amount of integrity, and that he is too inhibited.

Regarding d: That is up to him. He is what he is. Being gay for a man means wanting to be with a man. Isn't that what gay is?

As for e: That is the big question. My heart wants to believe one thing, my head another.

Life is full of decisions. No option is perfect. We have talked about that a lot. So here we are - or so here I am.

I don't know if anyone will read this. For the other side of the story, if you want to read E's blog, it is the first one on the list to the right. If you are in a similar situation, the gay spouse, the straight spouse, man or woman, let me know your blog address, and I will post it here.

B