Tuesday, January 8, 2008

If Love Is A Window, I'm Falling Out.

Or jumping, maybe. Maybe I have PMS. Maybe I'm strong. Maybe I'm angry. Maybe I've gotten a little too good at detaching.

I'm feeling awfully disconnected in a way that might not be bad, at least not bad for me. I don't think it bodes well for my marriage, though.

I'm tired of being needed. I'm tired of all the support in our relationship flowing in one direction, tired of being more of a parent than a wife. I'm tired of being responsible. I'm tired of being unhappy.

I was petting my dog this morning and realizing that if she were the only thing I had to worry about, I think I'd be pretty content with my life. If all I had going on was some money troubles, but those troubles were mine and mine alone, and all I had to do was take care of my house, my doggy, and myself, I'd be ok. I'd go to work, go to yoga, fix up the house, sell it, and move on. All this strife that I've been experiencing is coming from a single source: it's him.

In talking to a few folks about it, I've realized, too, that there are two separate issues with him that are difficult to discern from one another: there is the addiction and recovery stuff first. That is hard for him, and it's hard for me, but I can forgive, be patient, understand, let go, go to Nar-Anon and grow from my experiences and all that. I've got great skills at handling his addiction as a disease and being understanding and supportive through the recovery from that disease.

The other problem, though, is the money. He is working now, but he's still not working full time, not helping with the bills enough to offset how much it costs me to drive him to work. I understand that his bout of unemployment was grounded in the addiction garbage. While I understand that it's coming from the disease, his inability to work and support himself has brought me to a real edge in our relationship. It's something I can't live with, and it changes my perceptions of him. It disgusts me. It makes me sad that it disgusts me, but it does. There's no other word to describe the way I feel, and that's no way to feel about your partner...but that's the thing...he's not my partner. He's my ward, my burden.

Every day, I feel myself hardening to him.