The Disclosure:  The Beginning of the End

Hindsight is not always helpful.  Yes, of course some things make more sense with reflection, but that (belated) awareness doesn't alleviate a currently undesirable situation.  The realization of what had been happening and what I (maybe) could have done to prevent it isn't comforting.  It's maddening.  Psychologically unhealthy.   

 

I didn't see it coming.

How did it start?  Or better said, why did it end?  To understand this, one must consider the disclosure...

Late summer, after months of out-of-the-ordinary behavior, unpleasant and directed at me, he returned home late after a meeting, walked into the living room, and blurted out: but for the fact we had children he would have left me a long time ago...he'd been miserable for years...I treated him like I didn't want anything to do with him....I ruined his life...but he didn't want to destroy his family...but for the kids he "was out outta here"....

I was the deer in the headlights.  What?  Are you drunk?  I sat on the couch, stared at him.  What are you saying?  Huh?  

He rambled and ranted about all the things that I would eventually realize had been occupying his mind for ... years?  I wasn't "nice".  Everyone at his work was "nice".  He needed a cabin to get away (from me?)...  Later, (now) I ask myself how he could harbor intense thoughts of dissatisfaction, and at the same time act "normal"... Who can do that?  Is this some form of mental illness?  Why didn't I see this coming?

The disclosure provided an explanation for the preceding months of angry behavior--obvious, but not directly expressed, criticism that I didn't keep the house orderly (each of us had full time jobs), that the children fought and screamed (three kids under the age of 10), that I didn't polish my shoes (who has time for that?), that the wrapping paper shoved under the bed was not organized (who cares), that I collected cardboard boxes in the basement (you never know when you'll need to mail something).  Nothing I did was right.  My non-profit volunteer work was "bullshit".  I spent too much time at my day job when I didn't need to.

I suddenly had perspective.  This explained why, the weekend before, he informed me he was going out drinking with his co-workers, without inviting me.  Or I should say, he feigned inviting me--as he was walking out the door for a fun filled evening of drinking:  "Oh, did you want to go?"  No, that's ok, I don't have a sitter for the kids...go ahead...

He didn't want me, his wife and companion of almost 20 years, to go.  This hurt, but not nearly as much as what was to follow... It was a few days later he summoned the courage to tell me he'd wanted to leave for a long time.

I was understandably upset.  This too made him angry..."We talked about this all the time!" he demanded (yes, demanded).  What?  I don't remember talking about this?    

If we talked about it, I didn't remember it.  Not only that, I didn't get get it ... I think I would have remembered such a conversation.  

Do you want to work this out?  He didn't answer.  Perhaps I should have asked if it could be worked out...

Are you past the point of no return?  He wouldn't answer...

I didn't want to know the answer.