When is enough enough?

When do decide enough is enough?  When is enough enough?  Marriage.  My marriage.  I trust they all go slightly stale by the 12 year mark.  I always thought that if I could make it to the 13 year mark, and beat my parent's by one year, then surely I'd have it in the bag.  But lately, I don't think that will be the case.  I don't even know if I feel love.  My kids adore their father, he's a wonderfully sweet and kind man and his absolute devotion to them is beautiful.  But there are so many layers that I just can't make peace with. 

Anxiety and depression, and a family laden with drama, guilt, shame, deception, alcoholism.  It's just becoming more than I feel as though I can handle.  He treats me very well, he's perfect to the kids, but I feel as though I do not have a partner.  We do not connect on any level.  Even our small talk is boring and strained.  And his same deamons are as reliable as clockwork.  The guy is a door mat to his family and when I see how they treat him, and how he takes it, it's hard for me to not be changed.  So many years I stomp my foot, tell him their behavior is not right - that he should say this, say that, do this, do that.  So many times I've lined up and supported him through counseling and therapy.  But after nearly 10 years ought someone decide to make a change in their life and go with some of the good advice they hear year after year?  I see no changes.  I don't know what to do at this point. 

His brother called yesterday.  Always his brother.  Was annoyed he wasn't watching a football game - made some snied remark and quickly hung up the phone.  Instead of blowing it off, he internalizes it.  Every time.  The rude remarks go straight to his soul.  But instead of saying anything, he let's his anger fester.  His whole weekend is ruined.  He drinks beer in the garage when he thinks I don't see it.  He went to help a friend fix his computer today.  Gone a couple of hours - translation, a couple of beers.  Comes home, still angered by Saturday's comment by brother.  Goes for a walk to cool down - translation, a few more beers.  I'm tucking kids in, he's doing his drunkish napping by the fire.  I've been doing everything, all weekend.  He's been sulking.  It's the SAME weekend I've had over and over and over again.  I am tired of it.  If I expect him to change after all these years in counseling and therapy yet he chooses not to, then aren't I just as bad??  Seeing all the same behaviors and hoping for different outcomes - yet staying and waiting, and watching and hoping?  Ought I be the one to make a change?

So tonight as he coughs up confession after confession of how many beers it was - just 1...well I guess 2...ok, 3 because I had one when i got home...alright, 4....I just don't know but i know I feel drunk - I say what I know are fighting words.  I pour out all the remaining beer in the house and I tell him just to go upstairs and go to bed.  Then I say it.  I say I am close to wanting a divorce.  He comes back into the kitchen with a look of just getting the wind knocked out of him.  What, he asks?  I tell him I'm tired of these cylces.  I'm sick of this.  I'm not even 40 yet and I can't keep doing this all of my life.

Do I really mean this though?  Is being alone that much better than being with someone who drives you nuts half the time but is a simple yet nice guy the other half of the time?  I don't know.  All I know is that I am overwhelmed when I imagine even just another 12 years of this.

Pieces of Quiet

The house is quiet; I'm thrilled that it's Sunday evening and everyone is asleep.  I have a lot of time in the day, when the girls are in school, when my husband is at work.  But those chunks of time get jammed and they never truly feel like they are my own.  Raised in Minnesota by Norwegians with overly strong work ethics and a deep desire to never rest, I have been brain washed into thinking that sitting on the couch in the middle of the day is a cardinal sin - heaven forbid reading a book for fun.  We must be productive.  My husband says we're human-BEings, not a human-DOings.  I think he just says that so he feels no guilt watching football with his eyes shut by the fire. 

So in effort to have a to-do list that's long, with plenty of check marks by the end of the day, I hit the gym, the same old YMCA I've been going to for about 9 years now.  I re-tile the bathroom shower because it looks so hideous from 12 years of our grime, never mind 18 years of previous owner's grim.  I wash the cars, I bake and cook, I volunteer, I go to church, I help at school, I work and I study, and I clean, oh how I clean.  But some days it all feels a little heavy and if my mind allowed me, I'd like to just curl up and take a nap or attempt to finish the monthly book club book.

All in all, I'm a fun gal but a gal in a rut.  Something about early fall, each year it sends me off to a contemplative place where everything feels a little heavier than I wish for it to feel.  Answering emails, returning calls, smiling.  All takes great effort.  Silly voices and laughter have all gone to school.  The  bus roars up without warning, kids climb on, doors snap shut, and like a rocket, it catapults them away.  Exhaust hits my face, I watch time fly by, foolishly waving.  There is still a pacifier in my underwear drawer.  The house is quiet then - but not in the good way like it is right now when my brood is all in the house, asleep, safe.  Don't tell anyone, but I think the part of these kids getting older that scares me the most is that they'll leave my house and then it will be just the two of us alone.  That is the real reason for the symbolic depression of the fall.