Monday, November 22, 2010
The Straight Line and The Scribble
And who is an expert on marriage, really? Certainly not me.
We felt like a perfect fit; he likely thought he could straighten me out a bit, and I felt that I could loosen him up.
My alcoholism sky rocketed as our kids became toddlers, then preschoolers. I now think of this time as the Dark Years. My husband and I drifted further and further apart - not with a bang, but with a whisper. As I retreated further and further into the bottle, he amped up his practicality and held everything together.
We almost didn't make it.
A scribble does not easily become a straight line, and a straight line does not easily become a scribble.
Still reeling from the wreckage of my drinking, he became hyper-critical and I became hyper-defensive. We were score keeping - pawns in a game nobody can ever win.
We were going around and around the same track, having the same arguments again and again. We were stuck.
Luckily, we decided to get help, to find a neutral party to listen to our troubles. We found a safe haven to air our differences, talk it through. We couldn't fix anything on our own, since we were both so preoccupied with Being Right.
Mostly we learned to let go of expectations. We had to let the other person be who they are, not who we wanted them to be.