Annah ElizabethUncategorizedLeave a Comment

Holy cow!

Holy cold!
Holy hail!
Holy hell!
Holy shit!
I am tired, Journeyers.
Tired of revisiting the Same. Old. Arguments.
Tired of fighting…to be heard…understood…validated…
Tired of fighting to end the madnesses that are the foundations for relationship strife…
Tired of fighting for all of us, my family, especially when I often feel like I’m the only one fighting to keep it all together…
The only one fighting to find ways to put an end to the bickering and dysfunction…
Tired of feeling like I’m the one who always has to pour that first God-damned cup of coffee, as Glennon Melton calls it…
I can’t find the link to that article she wrote, but if you go here, you will, no doubt, find more inspiration to fill you up and warm your soul than you can possibly imagine…
Pouring that first cup of coffee represents the person who initiates whatever needs initiating…
The one who opens the proverbial door to discussions…
The one who suggests counseling when the couple can’t seem to hurdle over their marital humps…
The one who gets on the phone and does whatever is needed to secure someone for the two to talk to…
The one who keeps track of said appointments and insurance EOBs and payments…
I sit here staring at the screen, contemplating whether I want to go lie down and sleep for the rest of the day or if I want to keep pouring this pain onto the page.
“I’m done,” I said to Warren yesterday, and again this morning.
“I’m done. I don’t know what else to do. I was thinking earlier about the fact that we talked about going to another therapist, but it apparently wasn’t important enough to you.”
And then, just when I think that we’ve reached a stalemate, he pulls a list of therapists from his wallet.
A list he’s been carrying around since shortly after the woman we’d made so much progress with abruptly quit her practice.
I’m talking six months or more.
I’d asked him if he’d ask his therapist if she’d be interested and willing to do marriage counseling for us, or if she could recommend anyone.
I’d hit several stone walls, in the form of our client list is full, with the professionals I’d contacted.
My proverbial plate was full as I was working on meeting deadlines for my TEDx speech and publishing a book and preparing a grant application and putting together my first public presentation.
Days turned into weeks and then into months…
“Things were going good,” he said, “I didn’t think we needed to see someone,” he continued, “besides, we’d talked about just moving forward with everything we’d learned from Trish.”
Angry because he didn’t follow through. Wasn’t our marriage worth the time?
Sad as hell because he didn’t follow through. Why doesn’t he feel our marriage is worthy of the investment.
Depleted and hopeful and afraid when he shared with me that it was likely fear that kept him from contacting any of those people.
Fear and I are close companions; she’s like a second skin sometimes.
She’s what makes me loud and even more dramatic than I usually am.
She’s also sort of the nudge that keeps me going, keeps me learning and growing and moving forward, for when she’s present, I ultimately respond to her needs.
What I must remember is that we are all sometimes stalled by fear, held hostage for a while until some catalyst or realization frees us and spurs us into movement.
Warren and I were in a very similar place this same time last year, days before our twenty-fourth anniversary.
Knowing that I needed to change the way I was looking at our dilemma, I wrote this pieceto honor his presence in my life.
Tomorrow is Father’s Day and Tuesday marks twenty-five years since the day Warren and I stood at the entrance of a wooden arch that had been erected on the only solid ground to be found within our sixty-some acres of land.
Twenty-five years since we agreed to love, honor, and cherish, in sickness and in health,for richer or for poorer
Needless to say that I’m not much in the celebrating and cherishing mood after being mad and sad and confused and conflicted for an entire week.
Father’s Day is a day to say a special extra thank you for being a wonderful dad, to honor those men, those single moms and grandpas and grandmas and neighbors and big brothers, anyone who has taken the time and expended copious amounts of energy loving their children.
Warren is undeniably one of those #1 Dads.
And no matter how you slice it, twenty-five years is something to write home about, as the saying goes.
But, HOLY MATRIMONY!, marriage can be such unbelievably hard work.
So, Journeyers, here’s what I’m going to do.
Firstly, I’m going to take the advice I gave to those newly-weds a few weeks back: “Love, even when you don’t feel like it.”
I’m going to try to remember to love with everything I’ve got.
I’m going to be thankful that I have a spouse who’s willing to work it out.
I’m going to revisit that piece I wrote on our 24th anniversary…

I’m going to dial number after number until I find a therapist who’ll say yes to taking on a new client and someone who will help me sort out my conflicts and resentment.

and I’m going to reflect on our roots, on Warren’s leaves of bravery and compassion and dedication and joy and patience and romance…

I’m going to send out onto the universe love and light, so that it may bounce back onto me and any of you who are also struggling in a relationship and wondering how the hell you’re going to get through the next hour, how you’re going to survive the next put on your happy face celebratory event.
I’m going to climb into our hot tub and let the warm water work its magic.
And I’m going to sleep and sleep and sleep and wish for rejuvenation…
And right now I’m going to head over to our good friends’ home with Warren, to play cards and laugh and let loose a little and try to let go of some of this angst…
Thank you for being here, Journeyers, for sharing my joys and my burdens…
Together we can lighten one another’s heavy loads…
Together we can brighten the skies with thunder-clapping joys…
Until next we meet again, yours in healing and hope and happiness…

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