Booked

Since expressing the intention, 5 weeks ago, to leave my Wife, family, home and everything I’ve invested in in the last 15yrs, not much has changed. Except one thing: no kid deserves to have Xmas trashed because their father left just before, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to do that to mine, so I’ll be here till at least 2019.

In the meantime, there have been ups and downs: the ups have been brief and muted whilst the downs have been profound.

The night I announced I wanted to leave, one thing I threw at my Wife was how I had recently contacted a counsellor for my own sake, and I thought She should do the same. She applauded my decision, but made no indication that She might, or even might benefit from doing the same.

I dithered about making a booking.

After two series of couples counselling with my Wife, I have seen little evidence that it works.

I dare say there is shit I need to work out about myself.
I am certain there is shit my Wife needs to work out about Herself.
Ain’t objectivity awesome? And maybe … just maybe that’s where the opinion of a third party much have value. Not that I expect to get much direct benefit from it, but worst case scenario, if I do it, She has no excuse not to.

So I emailed, took the return phone call, and booked.

The first decision had been do I go back to the clinic my Wife and I saw most recently? I looked at others, but there was precious little I could see between them. If I go back, at least I don’t have to fill out more paperwork, and when the hourly rate appears on Our joint account statement, I won’t need to explain what the expense is.

Then there was the choice of the counsellors at the clinic …
Sue (the counsellor We saw together) was as much use as a chocolate teapot. How does that make you feel? isn’t gonna fix even the most trivial of differences. And thankfully the clinic’s policy is that, if making appointments as both a couple and individually, different therapists must be involved. (I think this is a fundamentally flawed paradigm, but what do I know?!)
Of the others, the next choice was male or female? I’m not sure I can see myself talking to a man. Doubtless that is symptomatic of (to quote the relentless misandristic zeitgeist) toxic masculinity, but there’s no point in making life hard for myself.
Equally, talking to their transgender therapist isn’t going to work for me. On a personal level, I couldn’t give a flying butt plug that they are trans – I’m just going to find it distracting when I’m supposed to be reflecting on me.

Which leaves Kirsty and Nina.
In her favour, Nina’s biog mentions she is sex positive … and is cheaper.
On the other hand, some of the clinic’s web articles on relationship self help were written by Kirsty, and amongst other things, in the context of sex, extol the merits of a relaxing glass of wine, lingerie, and sex toys. All things eschewed by my Wife. So there’s a reasonable chance Kirsty will err on my side of who-is-most-screwed-up … even if she does not articulate that. (Likely that’s an ill advisedly, partisan rationale, but fuck it!)

So, come the new year, I’m booked in to talk to Kirsty about surviving a marriage of convenience, rediscovering my love of masturbation in the face of imposed celibacy (yes, Dear Reader, as horny as I still am, I still get irritated by the concept of sex before I can be bothered to make myself cum), and figuring out where my future actually lies.