26 July 2016

State of the marriage, veterans.

Although my psyche is MUCH better, I'm still at a place where I'm torn between preparing myself to be single and wanting to make my marriage work. I feel so strange talking frankly about potential divorce like it's no big deal. When a few months ago my ideals would have told me that the D-word was unthinkable.

It's so true; that which does not kill you makes you stronger. And I've learned that my "steadfast" ideals can change depending on the circumstances. The raw, painful part of this process is over. It's still devastating but at least now I can stand on my own two feet without crumpling.

The hurt inflicted upon me is not easy to understand, forgive, or forget. But I've dealt with it in my own way, and come to my own terms about things. I've learned a lot about myself. Hindsight is 20/20. The current trust factor is negligent.

All that being said, I can't imagine it getting any worse than it was. Of course there will be rough days, no matter which side of the coin toss I/we decide to follow.

Even if we decide to divorce, I can see myself using the opportunity to get happier. I see myself embracing my independence rather than wallowing in my hurt. That brings me strength to carry on. The fact that I don't need him ironically makes me want to work on my marriage.

To my surprise, with everything stripped down to the bare essentials of our relationship, I'm able to see past the dog and the dishes in the sink and the everyday annoyances that used to be a really big deal. Now I can see the things that really matter, the things that just might be enough to keep us together.

To my shock, the fucked-up-veteran factor keeps pushing up in our conversations. The idea that it might not even be about me is baffling. I'm simply a bystander dealing with the consequences of the fucked-up-ness that keeps pouring out of him? Grain of salt, taken.

It's even more baffling that there are hardly any resources or societal understanding to even begin to address this issue. It's heartbreaking to hear about the suicide statistics, and even more heartbreaking to see it in action. This statistic is real. This summer, several of my husband's close veteran friends have committed suicide. I don't know how to address this. Perhaps it's not in my power to. But who, then? Hello, confusion, helplessness.

Ever ironically, perhaps with the above mentioned ideas in the back of my head, I've found myself really enjoying spending time with him. If our marriage is going to end, I might as well enjoy it while it lasts. Soak up every bit of him that I can before I no longer get to enjoy the man that I call my husband.

Because I'm not going to remain a punching bag. I'm simply not built for that. Statistics or no statistics, I can't continue to be dragged down.

This marriage is about both of us.
Not just him.
Not just me.
Both of us.

And yes, one of us can dominate the problem factor for a while, but it's supposed to ebb and flow-- not careen into a direction where neither of us benefits.

My marriage was sacred to me, and still is. We can endure the toughest of problems. All other problems are understandable, but at the end of the day if our marriage is not sacred to him, then I'll take my sacred marriage ideals elsewhere. I have no qualms with that.

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