“When did not being able to communicate become a “thing” for us?”
These were the words I struggled to simply say (not scream) at my husband on Sunday. I was sitting in one of those done-up teen bedrooms in Ikea, surrounded by hundreds of people, and trying to hold it together. Literally from the moment we parked the car our day went from normal to a wreck in a matter of seconds. Between our baby girl being fussy and the complete breakdown of communication with my husband we’d been dealing with as of late I was ready to leave upon walking in the door.
The ENTIRE time we were there I felt as though everything I said to my husband went in one ear and out the other. I was constantly repeating myself to him or re-wording statements to help it make sense. I could feel the anxiety growing inside me and it was getting to the point that I wasn’t going to be able to keep it together if the conversation didn’t stop going in circles. So by the time we got to the bed frame section in the upstairs showroom I’d reached my breaking point and had to check out mentally for a second.
That’s when the question passed through my lips and seemed to smack my husband across the face and snap him back into reality for the first time in days. He looked defeated. And I felt bad.
We continued on through the store in a hurried manner. We’d both had enough at this point and were simply ready to get out of there. We continued to have small talk through the rest of the afternoon and evening. We wouldn’t touch the subject again until later that night.
A year ago that whole scenario wouldn’t of even happened. We never had issues talking or expressing our feelings to each other. We never fought, rarely disagreed, and were both quick to apologize if we’d said something wrong to the other person. But now it’s a different story. I’m constantly on edge, teetering on a fine line of lashing out or just giving in to the hardships of the day and checking out mentally. My anxiety is taking away my voice and I’m powerless against it.
But I’m not alone when dealing with it. After coming home and getting kids to bed. Kyle and I were able to talk (in the shower no less) and seemingly get to the bottom of our current issue. My anxiety isn’t helping obviously, but he been so wrapped up (as he should be) in the selling of our current house and purchasing our new house. We’re both dealing with these things on top of our normal routine. The weekdays are a whirlwind, and the weekends aren’t much better. Kyle is going to work on simply talking to me beyond the normal daily conversations. I’m going to work on slowing down, and wading through the waters of my anxious mind instead of racing through and crashing before I get to the finish line. The easy, yet important steps need to happen for us. Otherwise we’ll loose sight of the other along this journey, which is something neither of us want.
I’m beyond lucky to have such a supportive spouse. Others have seen my anxiety as “attention seeking” behavior, or something that should be fixed within a week or two like a common cold. My husband knew coming into this that I have these issues, and decided it was okay and stayed anyway. He understands that it’s a part of who I am, and it’s something I’ll likely always deal with. He takes it with stride, providing the help that I need when I ask and more importantly when I don’t. He’s kind and gentle and genuinely loves me no matter how ugly “my ugly” really is.
Thank you Kyle, I love you.