Previous installment: Part 2
This will be a hard post for me to write. I’ve been going through a lot of hard emotions about the way our marriage began, and maybe this will be somewhat theraputic.
Our dating relationship was entirely long-distance. I was in the military, and he was in college. The drive was 9 hours in the beginning, and shortened to 3 and a half once he moved a little closer. 98% of the time, I was the one making the trip, since I had more money for gas, and didn’t have my own apartment for the longest time. He couldn’t stay in the barracks, so we’d need a hotel. So no-go.
The long distance made for some intense emotions on my end. I absolutely hated where I was stationed, and hated the people I worked with, and was struggling to keep up physically. Every weekend ended with me in tears, crying that I didn’t want to go back to that hell-hole. It also made for some amazing, mind blowing sex. Everything we had pent up for the week came out on the weekend. Unfortunately, I also had a jealousy streak a mile wide, and often accused him of cheating. (This wasn’t one of those instances where I was projecting… no infidelity happened on my end. In my mind, he was armpit deep in hot college girls, why would he want to stick with only me if he had to? Preselection at its finest, I suppose.)
We were somewhat happy, but tumultuous to say the least. We were engaged after a few years, and to keep a long story short, we were married at the JP a few months before the actual ceremony, due to possible deployment. Thank God the deployment didn’t happen, but the early hitch gave me the opportunity to put him on my life insurance policy, so it was for a good reason. We were getting married anyway, right?
Right about that time, I discovered that he was having an emotional long distance affair. I was devastated. I also caught him googling “annulments in Texas”. Double whammy. I honestly can’t remember what stupid crap we were arguing over that was SO BAD at this point. It all seems so completely trivial now. But at the time, he thought it was bad, and I wasn’t giving him the emotional connection he was after, so he sought it elsewhere. I did the typical “trash the house and leave like a crazed lunatic” bit, but decided as I was driving out of town that I wasn’t gonna put up with this shit, but neither was I gonna just give up. I am nothing if I am not stubborn.
We somehow got through this and went through with the wedding ceremony, but I think that series of events really broke me. Our honeymoon was relaxing and lovely, but sex went downhill after that, gradually. I started feeling somewhat repulsed by the idea of sex. And not just with him… in general. I didn’t put two and two together until recently about how the loss of my sex drive coincided with those incidents, but I really see it now. I also began to have hormonal issues due to the condition Polycystic Ovary Syndrome, which sent me all kinds of out of whack.
I regret the loss of those first few years, when we should have been happy and crazy for each other and screwing like rabbits. I withheld my 20′s body from him, and I am so regretful for that. But he didn’t exactly have the best way of handling the situation either. We both transended into the lonely space that is World of Warcraft. We had our computers in the same room, played at the same time, but often didn’t talk to each other (See a pattern, from my last post about my dad?). We had flashes of nicety and happiness, but sex was dwindling to a twice a year event. And it was great when it happened, but it was impossible for me to get in the mood. I would try in spurts, but then he would bring up the fact that I’d been cold for months, and I’d say “what’s the point if I’m just going to get berated anyway?” and I’d go right back to being completely asexual. We both packed on the pounds, neither of us really caring about what we looked like physically, which certainly didn’t help either. I repeated the blue-pill mantra of “you’re not fat, I love you just the way you are”, and so did he, but I don’t think either of us really meant it, though I really thought I did at the time. I don’t think I was attracted to him, for a number of reasons. At least, that’s what I guess, now that I can look at it from a red-pill perspective.
We fought often during this time. When we weren’t ignoring each other, we were fighting. Most often about chores, because I was depressed and hated to do them. I think the fights amounted to my husband tip-toeing around being the Captain, and me resisting, because I thought that’s what I was supposed to do. I don’t even know why I argued about some of the crap I did. And he failed that test a lot. I would usually get so angry I’d leave the apartment, because I didn’t want to unleash my anger by physically throwing something, as I had a tendency to do. Another carry-over from my dad’s hissy fits. I know it sounds like I’m making excuses, but it was mostly my fault… I just really didn’t know why I was so unattracted and unattractive and depressed, and it honestly boggled my mind. I got even more depressed when he’d try to talk me into sex, because I really didn’t know why I didn’t want to. Why was I so disgusted? Looking back, I’m guessing the betatude. It still makes me feel like a huge jerk, as well I should, I guess. I have a lot of guilt over it.
I was the one working while he was in college getting his Masters, and I’d often come home completely drained. I’d been put in charge of training people to do a job that required a computer, only the people I was training were completely computer illiterate, and utterly unable (unwilling) to learn. I’d come home with migraine-sized headaches at times, hop on World of Warcraft, and waste the entire evening without saying a word.
This went on for years. 5 or 6 years. We both felt helpless in our own ways, but I was too stubborn to do anything about it. Previous interactions with “counselors” made me averse to seeing a marriage counselor… Though after seeing some accounts of what modern marriage counseling is from fellow red-pillers, that was probably a wise decision on my part. And so it went on and on.