I said I was going to write next about: OK "vs" understandable. So here we go...
[I never start with a song, so lets change that. Shall we?] This song is an impetus for this post [posts?] Be OK by Ingrid Michaelson
For me this begins with me telling my wife those dark pages. See, before we got married, I told her a "headline". I kind of gave her some of the sentences I gave you a few posts ago. With a demand to go with it. "Do NOT tell ANYONE about this." And, of course the follow up: "WE will not talk about this again." To her credit, that's what followed. Then I saw a therapist.
Bring on the funny. I can't tell you I saw a therapist without telling the story that, I think, every therapist I've had got to hear. Oh...& the poor souls who tried to help me go to see one. Cause, lets face it, "therapy is a great idea... for someone other than me." Is this, or is it not, how everyone feels? I don't need it, but it's ok if you do. Which is, of course, how I felt myself. Followed by this:
"why would I go to a therapist? I'm going to sit on a 'couch' -by the way- in what universe is that a couch? That doesn't even look right on an episode of Star Trek. What do you have to smoke [never mind how much] to think that is a couch, anyway? Some old 'dude' with coke bottle glasses will sit there, smoking a Sherlock Holms pipe, & in the thickest British accent imaginable say: 'Tell me about your Mutha'. What does that have to do with the price of tea in China? My Mother is the sanest person I know. SHE is the least of my problems. ..." The tirade did go on, in some cases, you get the point though.
Are you really ready to laugh? ...my first therapist was a woman. And they say God doesn't have a sense of humor. They, obviously, haven't spent time with me. Oh, & a quite young & attractive woman, at that. Yes, I told her & she laughed.
I feel better now.
Back to the story. So I borrowed the keys to my Uncle's cabin. Took Mick up there & after a day of normal "us time" I began to really tell her. Sharing details of it, that I was seeing a therapist now, etc. It was painful for both of us. A "hate doing it, glad we did do it, glad we suffered through doing it" kind of moment. First awkward moment was her asking: "Is that everything?" "...what? that wasn't gruesome enough for you?" "no, just... you've told me everything, right?" "the best I can remember, yes."
I then began to talk about ways I saw my trauma was affecting us. Affecting our relationship. She began to say, to anything I brought up: "it's ok because of what you've been through." ...I told her: "No. It's not ok, it's understandable. I don't want it to be ok. Because if it's ok, then you have to 'deal with it'. Deal with me being like this. 'To bad, so sad/ sucks to be you'. It's like, you have to be abused because I was, sort of thing. And no, you don't. I don't want that for you. I don't want to stay the same. So we're not going to just 'let it be'." I don't know what else I said. What I do know is what I conveyed.
It is understandable. I have trust issues [wait... I don't have issues, I have a subscription]. Which is understandable [but still not ok]. I am what they call: Hyper-vigilant. I am so very much more aware of my surroundings than you would be comfortable knowing. Example? Mick changed her makeup [face "stuff", any girl reading this is now substituting the right word for it], I hugged her..."honey, what did you change?" [long uncomfortable pause] "why?" "You smell different." "I used deodorant." "No... I mean ...your face smells different." Guys...little tip. NEVER tell your girl her face smells "different" it will NOT go well for you. TRUST ME. "what do you mean my face smells different? ...I did use a different [whatever that's called] ...you can smell that?!?" "um...yeah." "does it stink?" "No, no, it just smells different. I have this ...collage of smells that are... 'you' & that isn't in it." She began to ask me all sorts of questions after that. Anyway, I don't remember what all else we would have talked about. The only other example of a "character flaw" that I have would be that I don't share very well. This might seem strange after all I've been sharing on here. The sharing I am doing is not "standard operating procedure" for me. I'm not a "get to know you" kind of guy. I'm a "keep you at arms length" kind of guy. Which I'm trying to dismantle, even as I type this. I especially don't share well when I don't feel well. Physically or emotionally. My knee-jerk reaction is to say "I'm fine." So [for some of you from my growth group & from LW], if you can, try not to be too surprised if you ask me how I am doing & get 2 answers. The usual: "I'm fine" followed by a pause & then the actual 411. Old habits die hard. Which in no way says they don't deserve to. The harder something is to do, often indicates the worthwhile-ness of doing it. Much of what's good for us is difficult. So I am stretching myself, here. Sorry if this post seems "muddy". However, I just wanted to post of this for some time now. So Mick caught on to what I was trying to say to her. I'm still fixing things. And it's going to take time. More time than I'd like... sometimes we have to appreciate the movement, however small, & not just push for the journey to go faster.
I have another post that involves the word: OK. And may pick back up on the theme here... however, I DO have work tomorrow...
May His grace drip from your fingers,