Blame, blame, and more blame

When I had a few sessions of counselling on my own almost exactly a year ago, I had said to Sandra, the counsellor, that I wanted to stop caring. She took that negatively, not how I had meant it. Maybe there was an element of fuck you, I don’t care any more in it, but fundamentally, I wanted to be able to let the things that stress me, just wash over me, not get caught in the net of angst. Now, I find myself thinking what, if anything, will enable me to let go of the blame that I pile at my Wife’s feet?

After the previous nights Skype call with Kirsty, Our current counsellor, I had wanted to explore this, and She had a free appointment a couple of days later. I wanted to talk about blame. I wanted to talk about moving past it. I wanted to talk about my need to hear apologies from my Wife without them being suffixed by But. To examine whether, when We fight, my Wife’s complaints that I don’t listen are related. (It’s not intentional on my part, but I am aware that I have a tenancy to get lost in my own thoughts at times like that.)

Kirsty and I didn’t talk so much about

Turning tides

I was folding laundry as She came downstairs.
Her: Morning.
She sounded uncommonly subdued.
Me: Morning.
I was unusually cheery. Unusually so for a morning after another fight. (Another fight We’d had about parenting styles which had come about after another fight She had been part of an I hadn’t.) On mornings like this it is usually my Wife who has slept it off an I who is still shrouded by thunder clouds.
Her: I’m glad to hear you sounding positive.
Me: The world’s different now.
Her: Sorry if I said things the wrong way last night.
Nothing from me. I’m tired of apologising. Not that I’m suggesting I didn’t get things wrong.
Her: I’ll have some breakfast and then we can talk.

It was one of those moments when

The good, the bad, and the ugly

After talking to Kirsty, our counsellor, alone, I went for another walk.
The world felt heavy as I left the house. I had questions I need to answer.
By the time I returned a couple of hours later, the world felt

Questions

What do I want?
Is there enough in the relationship to save?
Do I really want to save it?
Have We passed the point of no return?
Do I really want a divorce?
Or does even considering divorce inherently make it more likely?

Analysing these questions in the echo chamber of one’s own frustration is not reliable.
For as long as I can remember I have

Target fixation

Three days, three arguments.
Or rather …
Three days, one argument:
When I ask Do you want …?, what I am often trying to convey, in a non-confrontational way, is I do want … To me the only difference is a single pronoun and respectful deference. My Wife thinks

Steps

A week on from my Wife’s individual Skype session with our latest relationship counsellor, Kirsty, We sat down in front of my laptop for our first proper joint Skype. Even as We waited the painfully long time it takes my ageing computer to get its shit together, it was obvious my Wife was itching to take control. She had Kirsty’s Skype contact stored in Her account. She could login. Without being explicit, but consciously sitting so my Wife couldn’t reach for the mouse, I didn’t let this happen. After all, it was My laptop. All I needed was some information and I was perfectly capable of doing what was required.

The call was connected and greetings exchanged.
Considering my Wife’s recent flu symptoms, Our respective health was enquired after.
And how had the last week been between Us? It had been

Turmoil

Forgive me, Dear Reader, it is two weeks since my last confession^[1]. Two long weeks. Very long weeks.

While the world has gone into shut down over fears of COVID-19, the virus almost certainly put my Wife in Her sick bed for a couple of days^[2], and the rest of the house into incarceration. Consequentially, school was out for us, a whole week before school was out for the entire country. Unsurprisingly, as predicted by those who understand, my Wife’s suffered no more than a minor illness, She is absolutely fine, and no one else has exhibited any symptoms. There have, however, been significant consequences. Some of those have been logistical – we really are nearly out of toilet roll [Ed: and AM ran out of tissues to wipe up his ejaculate a week ago] – there are very real risks for other members of my wider family – the prospect of home schooling for an indefinite period is terrifying – a fractured family holding itself together, whilst unable to leave the house has lead to animosity on more than one occasion – and my Wife was not able to go to Her individual session with our latest relationship counsellor, Kirsty.

To Her credit,