We Interrupt This Broadcast

Smashed glass

My husband is very upset and I don't know why. But I can tell you when he feels hurt, I hurt (literally) too. My stomach is tense, I'm getting a headache. One of our lamps just broke and as I was cleaning the broken glass orb up, he just left...out walking in the neighborhood, I suppose. Where is he? Some might call this childish behavior. He could have helped clean up. But I know something disturbing is going on here.

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I saw he took the cell phone, so I called and located him in the neighborhood park. He is listening to music. Look, my husband is a lonely, tortured soul. And in America, those types are frowned upon, judged poorly and to be inadequate, made fun of and are the source of jokes. The depth of his feelings do not translate, for him at this time, into income so that would imply to many in this country that he is a failure.

I'm not going to jump into deep theoretical reasoning right now because these meds are kicking my butt (just took my evening dose), but I want you to know that tears are welling up in my eyes. I am recalling the time my brother called me and said, "You know Melissa, everyone speaks so highly of you and loves you. But they don't say much about Michael."

This just breaks my heart. Dear readers, he is not a bad man, he is lost. He looks back on his life with great regret (something I do -- we all do -- from time to time). The frustrating thing is I can tell him to do this or that to improve his situation, but ultimately it's up to him. God, that sounds, this is so cliche. He is "architecting" his own destiny and it's my fear that things could be so much better for him if he just pushed himself more.

We don't have a bad thing going here albeit Nell is close to passing away and the house needs work and cleaned thoroughly. But maybe it's not enough for him. Is it enough for me? I can tie this back to bipolar illness and tell you that Michael has sacrificed things to take care of me. But my mother reminds me the same holds true on my end of the spectrum.

Why is my soul so intertwined with this man? Strong as the iron links on the chain for a ship liner's anchor. In these past months of illness I've believed people were sending me messages to sever ties with him; kick him out; move forward on my own. This "advice" upset me greatly and didn't help matters at all. I stand by this man.

So I will try to see if I can get husband to open up more about his feelings. He suppresses them so well. Let's have a collective "eye roll" because this whole thing sounds sappy. He just came home and I suggested we talk a little bit. On goes the cable TV. He "doesn't feel like chatting."

I'm scared but will try to put this on the back burner. I'm in rehabilitation. I don't think I'll rest easy tonight.