Better Than Fighting - Part II

I didn't intend there to be a Part II. Really, I didn't. I intended to learn my lesson, and move on. But life is funny sometimes. Or maybe I'm hard-headed sometimes. Either way, here's What happened...

"You've got two choices. You can take a paddling right now, or you can go sleep on the couch."

"How many?" I asked.

"You can take the paddling, or you can go sleep on the couch." Jay repeated firmly, intentionally ignoring my question. "And you have five seconds to decide."

Now I know you're confident I did the right thing after all I expressed to learn in my last post. After all, a spanking is better than fighting, right? But I took one look at his very serious face, as well as my wooden nemesis, and high-tailed it out of there. I went to sleep on the couch for the night.

However, I didn't actually sleep. Instead, I spent the night in tears.

To give you a little background, I've been feeling not exactly cherished lately. My husband has been moody, quick-tempered, and not exactly loving sometimes. Not even reasonable sometimes. Why? He recently quit smoking, as I made him promise to do. It's a gift both to me and to his son. But it hasn't been easy. Nicotine addiction is harder to break than a heroine addiction. And he's been smoking since he was a child. Not a teen, a child. Did I mention how much I love his family?

Anyway, you'd think that I'd expect that he's going to be hard to deal with, and intellectually, I know it. But it's been making me feel like I'm falling apart. And then I feel awful that I can't seem to be strong for him, which makes me fall apart even more. And what's more, I haven't wanted to tell him what's wrong, in case it stresses him out, and he starts smoking again, because of me. So I'd been keeping it bottled up inside. And it's possible that that added to me acting out, a time or two.

That night, we were in bed, and I said something that crossed the line. I was wrong. But sleeping separated away from him is something I absolutely hate, and he knows it. I don't sleep well,if at all. And I had to work the next morning. I was angry that he was doing this to me, that it would be such a hard day for me the next day, with no sleep. I had to quell the strong desire to bang a tambourine outside his door.

But we've been in this situation before, shortly before our son was born. Jay had kicked me out of the room (possibly for being a brat), so I decided that would be a brilliant time to pack for the hospital. And I did, as noisily as I could, right outside the bedroom door where it was sure to be as loud as possible. I let my suitcase-loving ferret help too, exponentially adding to the noise. Then played innocent when Jay got upset. But the next day, I felt convicted, especially because he was so tired at work. I told him the truth. My bottom paid for it, but my guilt was worse. I gave him my solemn word I would never do anything like that again.

So even though I wanted to so badly, I didnt do it. Instead, I huddled in a blanket, and cried my eyes out. I felt alone, even abandoned. It felt like there was this gaping chasm between us. It's difficult to explain, but it frightened me, it was so horrible. I felt so anxious and stressed, I literally felt sick. In addition, all my feelings I had tried to bottle up during the last few days came rushing out like a tidal wave. I couldn't stop any of it. By the next morning, I was a mess. I'd had no sleep, I was barely functioning, and was in no condition to go to work. What hurt even worse was that Jay acted distant. I panicked, not knowing how to deal with my emotions, with even driving to work being so tired, and wondering seriously how I was going to even get through the day. Finally, Jay saw that there was a serious problem, and it needed to be addressed. We talked.eGe drove me to work. And we made things right again between us. I honestly don't know what caused me to flip out so badly. Jay is worried that I might have a touch of postpartem depression, but since I'm usually happy, I don't think I agree. I just can't handle anything between us. Not now, when there's no reason for it. When we are at odds, my world goes completely topsy turvy. And I fall down.

"I know you're massively mad at me," Jay told me that morning.

"I'm not mad at you," I answered, truthfully. "I miss you."

And that's exactly how I felt. We're not out of the woods yet. He's going through withdrawals, and I'm trying to keep that in mind when he's agitated. But now we are supporting each other. We're in this together, and we realize that. We're back to honesty and openness. And he's back to paddling, without giving me a choice to back out. But after going through that horrible time we were fighting, I know even though I may not like it, the horror of the alternative would make that decision easy. Because there's nothing worse than that feeling.

I'm still trying to figure out how we functioned before TTWD. And though I may need constant reminders when it gets hard, we can't go back. Knowing the way things could be, I don't know if I'd emotionally survive. And even if I did, I'm not sure I would want to.