Post by TMD on Jun 9, 2017 22:22:12 GMT -5
A comment on another thread triggered a memory.
Early into the SM, perhaps about 4-5 years (20 is the # that will be reached this year, although official separation forthcoming).
Anyways, early into the dysfunction, I made some great connections with a group of women who were providing a service to the company I worked at. One night I was invited for dinner/drinks after work. I was honoured to attend an evening with beautifully smart, successful women.
Unfortunately, it would be my first and only invite.
We sat outdoors on a patio beside the river in the city center. The conversation, as is curiously common, steers towards a sort of commiseration and litany of complaints with respect to our partners.
Up to this point, I had not talked to anybody about my dissatisfaction with the marriage, and of my supposed partner. I listened, even lightly laughed at some of the snippets they shared.
And then I spoke up.
I asked, do ever wish your partner would die?
Yeah. I did.
Here's the thing. I didn't want him dead. I still don't, in case you're wondering. I didn't think up ways to 'off' him. I was so f'd up. I was too afraid to break a commitment I thought I had to keep. I couldn't talk to him about the shitty marriage (my feeble attempts were unsuccessful and I didn't know what I could do better to create dialogue).
And obviously, I couldn't talk to other women about it either.
In my misery, once in a while, I would desperately seek for an out that was simple. Like a partner dying is "simple?" Yeah. I know. It's not. I was dumb.
To be honest, talking to him this past month has been the easiest it's ever been. It's not perfect. But I am steadfast in my plan to exit and he knows it. When I do broach the "uncomfortable" subject, I do it gently, with kindness, clarity and a healthy side of confidence.
I am so glad those years are behind me. I am embarrassed by that awkward transaction. And to be honest, I don't think I could ever admit this serious gaffe out loud.
I know you guys get it, for the most part. I think those of you that know me a bit online are certain I'm not a physcopath.
It's a "good" example of the absolute and utter dysfunction of an SM. And perhaps an example of what it's like, thankfully, when the fog begins to lift.
ETA - I chose to be vulnerable sharing by this post. I know it's fr out. And I'm hoping I won't be drawn and quartered for it.
Early into the SM, perhaps about 4-5 years (20 is the # that will be reached this year, although official separation forthcoming).
Anyways, early into the dysfunction, I made some great connections with a group of women who were providing a service to the company I worked at. One night I was invited for dinner/drinks after work. I was honoured to attend an evening with beautifully smart, successful women.
Unfortunately, it would be my first and only invite.
We sat outdoors on a patio beside the river in the city center. The conversation, as is curiously common, steers towards a sort of commiseration and litany of complaints with respect to our partners.
Up to this point, I had not talked to anybody about my dissatisfaction with the marriage, and of my supposed partner. I listened, even lightly laughed at some of the snippets they shared.
And then I spoke up.
I asked, do ever wish your partner would die?
Yeah. I did.
Here's the thing. I didn't want him dead. I still don't, in case you're wondering. I didn't think up ways to 'off' him. I was so f'd up. I was too afraid to break a commitment I thought I had to keep. I couldn't talk to him about the shitty marriage (my feeble attempts were unsuccessful and I didn't know what I could do better to create dialogue).
And obviously, I couldn't talk to other women about it either.
In my misery, once in a while, I would desperately seek for an out that was simple. Like a partner dying is "simple?" Yeah. I know. It's not. I was dumb.
To be honest, talking to him this past month has been the easiest it's ever been. It's not perfect. But I am steadfast in my plan to exit and he knows it. When I do broach the "uncomfortable" subject, I do it gently, with kindness, clarity and a healthy side of confidence.
I am so glad those years are behind me. I am embarrassed by that awkward transaction. And to be honest, I don't think I could ever admit this serious gaffe out loud.
I know you guys get it, for the most part. I think those of you that know me a bit online are certain I'm not a physcopath.
It's a "good" example of the absolute and utter dysfunction of an SM. And perhaps an example of what it's like, thankfully, when the fog begins to lift.
ETA - I chose to be vulnerable sharing by this post. I know it's fr out. And I'm hoping I won't be drawn and quartered for it.
