We make it back home and put the kiddo down. I sit down next to him and begin to explain that him snapping at me for spilled coffee was not ok. Something’s wrong. I think we should go to marriage counseling. He reluctantly agrees, but also says he doesn’t think it’ll matter because “the therapist will just side with you and bash me”. I offer to find a male therapist if possible. I bring up our lack of sex again. I also ask him what I can do more to make things “better”. He tells me that he wants me home more instead of working late and going to dinners with friends because he feels trapped with the babe all day. I agree and apologize for taking advantage of him working from home/her not being in daycare. I get angry for a moment because I’ve begged him to put her in daycare (to give him a break) and he refuses, citing that it’s too much money. I ask him if he’d like for me to get a second job to afford daycare. He declines, stating that he’d “think about putting her in part time care” again. He then admits that he’s struggling with ED. His libido has declined over the years and now it’s at the point where he can barely masturbate and finish. I ask that he get tested for low testosterone and maybe the doctor can prescribe something. He agrees.
I ask what I can do in the bedroom to make it better for him. He says sex with me has gotten boring. He’s not dominant and since we’ve introduced kink, he feels like he has to perform. I suggest we take kink off the table and just go back to vanilla sex.
“Will that be enough for you?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I admit.
He says he’d like for us to have more shower sex (something I hate), use more toys (but couldn’t tell me which ones he’s interested in), and for me to wear things/costumes he likes. I agree to look up sex toys and be more open to shower sex. I ask that he not rebuff me when I initiate though, because we can’t do the things he likes if we never even get to the starting line. He agrees.
He wants to seal our new plan with a kiss, but I stop him. I don’t want him to touch me. And I’m tired of giving affection while being sexually frustrated. He looks hurt but doesn’t push it. I go to bed.
And when I wake up that Monday morning, I feel this intense sense of anger and bitterness and resentment. It’s never been this strong before. I cry in the shower. I make it to work, completely overwhelmed with these negative emotions. Where the fuck are they coming from? I weep on and off all day, rushing off to hide in the bathroom. I’m not productive at all. A friend/coworker swings by and sees how upset I am. She asks me if I want to walk and talk. I agree and let it all out, crying.
She reassures me that what I’m feeling is normal. I come to the conclusion that I’m done with these cycles of attempting to fix / falling back into same routines. I think I’m done trying. I woke up that morning and felt like once again I had to do the majority of the work (coming home earlier, having sex that I’m not interested in, looking up sex toys, finding a counselor). And I was tired. Not interested. The fact that I felt that way scared me. I felt guilty.
If you’ve ever been severely depressed/suicidal, you know how scary going down that path can be. My emotions were so strong I was genuinely afraid. I didn’t want to go home because I didn’t want to face my husband and have yet another fight while being in such an emotional state. I was afraid that I might hurt myself. My friend suggested that I take a few days and stay at a hotel. I messaged Husband and told him I was going to stay with family for a few days. He was pissed. He told me I was abandoning my family. Insinuated that I was a shitty mother. Told me I was running away. Friend had to talk me through the conversation.
I know this sounds horrible, but I just couldn’t go back. Something wouldn’t let me go back. And so, I dropped off the car and came in to pack a bag. Played with the kiddo for about 45 minutes and then handed her back to her dad. Ugly words were exchanged. He was crying and angry, she was crying because I was leaving, I was crying. But I couldn’t stay. I said goodbye and then sobbed 90 miles to my uncle’s house.
When I arrived, I numbly put my suitcase in the guest bedroom and went to sit with him. He didn’t ask questions, but told me I was loved and safe.