11:54 a.m. - 2007-12-26
not quite Christmas yet
Dear Gentle Readers,

I left you as my darling bride woke up from her migraine induced slumber. Let us just say that she was not terribly pleased to find me sitting in front of a computer screen. The sound of my not putting up the tree lights alarmed her. In her alarmed and worried state she came stumbling in and went ballistic on me. She still felt like crap from the migraine, still felt like crap from the Imitrex, and she felt like crap because she hadn't done anything "Christmasy" all day.

Well. That all did seem to trigger her. I haven't heard a tirade like that in years. Lots of very, very mean things came out. How is it that a woman can bring up past hurts that we've talked about, for which I've apologized profusely atoned and repented, from years and years back? It's as if nothing is every forgiven. Nothing. It's all saved up to hold over my head for whenever she's feeling like throwing something back at me.

I did not take her verbal aggression well. I was already in a blue, depressed mood and then being called out for "typing in front of the computer" tore me apart even more. I think I've mentioned Trust Issues in previous posts. Yup. They're still there... the trust issues that is.

So then I told her that I was doing this as part of my therapy, that I'm journaling online. The journaling part helped sooth her, but she's still ultra-worried that I'm doing it online. She really was grilling me on why? what was it I'm writing about? what about my privacy? and then wondering if I'm just doing this to swap emails with some woman. That's when the 15 year old stuff came out. Way back in the day we signed up with AOL (before AOL was a gateway to the internet). I discovered Chat Rooms. I discovered that it could be fun to break out and be silly, flirtatious, etc... I had an Elvis related screen name and would "sing" Elvis songs to the (supposedly) women via chat. Apparently the wife did _not_ like this. I also went a bit further and had a very brief fling with cyber-sex. After a bit of self-reflection I realized that cyber-sex may not be "sex" per se, but engaging in it with a stranger can be as destructive as engaging in "real" sex. So anyway, The Wife finds me typing on the laptop in the kitchen, the blinds are fully open, and she goes off worried that I may be singing Elvis songs to strange women on the net.

This was a bit of a jolt. There I was, being introspective, trying to dredge up and honestly write about the various and sundry pieces of crap that comprise my life. Then this harpy who had assumed the shape of my wife's body comes in and lays into me. I realized that now was the time to tell her about my new electronic journal. So I did. And I explained again. We talked. I explained again. We blustered and fumed, stomping off into separate rooms. I explained again.

By this time the Blue Monster had taken up residence inside me and I didn't feel like talking, explaining, and certainly not decorating that stupid Christmas tree. Through all this I had several crying jags which ranged from momentary sobs to full-blown uncontrolled bawling. For the most part I managed to keep out of sight of the wife while these transpired, but there is no way she couldn't notice when I lost it. We talked. I explained about this "journal' again. (No calling it a diary. Nope) Part of the explanation was that it was private. I did NOT want her to be able to read it. So she wanted to know WHY it had to be on a computer. Why? Why? Why? By this time I was exhausted. I was physically and emotionally exhausted. Full blown depressive episodes complete with all out bawling tend to be exhausting. So I didn't bother to go into why, only that it worked. I am writing. I'm continuing to write. And that's the whole point.

We had both calmed down a lot. A LOT. And we agreed to call it a night (at 8:30) and start afresh on Sunday.

And so we did. Sunday was a new day. We went to church (got there later than we ever have before). She went to her friend's house and baked cookies, and I worked on those damned tree lights and rested up.

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