I can't recall if I mentioned in my last post that my husband is going to see my therapist next Tuesday and I go later on that same day and she's going to give me her feedback on what she thinks his mental state is regarding our marriage.
And the thing that terrifies me is she is going to tell me we can do this and saving our marriage is the way to go. Because you see, the amount of work I believe that will take... Well honestly, I'm not sure there is any amount of work that can fix it. And I have a night like tonight where it's his night off so he's out and it's just me and the three kids and we're fine-- we're great, and I wonder, really I can do this. I actually have clarity on nights like these. Because I'm running my house my way and there's no interference or curveballs really. So I start to think well if I'm really going to do this, I really need money. And if I really need money, I can't afford therapy. I need that money to live.
However, in the back of my head there's that little monster and it's whispering about those other days, the not so good ones where nothing goes right and I can't get myself to want to do anything and I just feel like breaking into a million pieces never to come together again. And how on some of those days J really is a kind of blessing to have.
As much as I like my therapist, I'm leaning towards abandoning it. I don't mind a little guidance but this whole almost weekly stuff is getting to me.
Getting older sucks.