195: Writing to an agony aunt

 There was an article in the Guardian - My marriage is in meltdown – again. How can I save it? | Marriage | The Guardian. In it, the letter writer to the agony aunt talked about there being enough 'scraps of battered love ...' to try and save the marriage and asked for advice. 

Philippa Perry provides various bits of advice and then goes a little 'mechanical' - 'feelings follow behaviour'. [I smiled as in my professional change management world I often use 'mechanics drive culture'!!]

'give your husband at least three appreciations or compliments every day' - the only love letters that exist are from me to her. Nicknames made up were from me. After every rollicking I would come back and try to be affectionate all over again. More fool me - presents would have been enough.

'Remember love is not something passive that you fall into, it is something active that you do. Also think of three loving behaviours to do every day. Maybe help him with his tax bill, or empty the dishwasher or cook a nice meal. You must get into the habit of these loving behaviours before you even begin to address any complaints to re-establish trust' - have helped her with job applications when requested, washing, cleaning, the lot - not as a chore or a transactional action but simply as a partner. 

'And it is amazing that when you decide to act in loving, forgiving ways, it can make you feel more loving, too. Feelings follow behaviour.' - and, believe me, I have tried.

I came across this old entry, at a point where I had lost my temper after years of accepting it all: Confidant: 58: In her words ... and some in mine (dear-confidant.blogspot.com) 

The feelings are clear on both sides but I end the letter by trying to take steps - things got much worse before improving but I know I have tried everything.

And here as well: Confidant: Entry 21: All Gone to Pot (dear-confidant.blogspot.com) 

Reading the 'battered love' letter, I wrote to Philippa Perry and asked, not for advice, but the benefit of her experience because my / our experience is commonplace. She came back very quickly in an email. 

The maxim, 'choose guilt every time', is a strong one - let's see.

Hello Philippa 

Thank you for your clear and succinct thought. 

I have stayed all these years because I could not bear the thought of living apart from our son; not because of my value to his life but his to mine.

He is now 17 and next year gets to his A Levels. That is my target date. 

Thank you again, I read your column with interest and wish you well. 

Take care

 A.

On 15 Mar 2023, at 11:55, Philippa Perry <philippa.perry.freelancer@theguardian.com> wrote:

Hi there A., 

 You have a choice, it seems, between resentment or guilt

 "How do I get past the guilt and sense of duty? What is the thought process I can cultivate?"

 In that situation, choose guilt every time. 

 To lessen the guilt see you child and be involved in your child's life as much as you can be and carry on with financial arrangements until child is independent. But don't waste your life by being shouted at. 

 With very best wishes, 

 Philippa

 On Fri, 10 Mar 2023 at 12:21

Dear Philippa

 I am writing this with much hesitancy as I ponder why I am doing so, but here goes anyway.

I read with interest the letter and your response of 5^th March, 2023. In my case the ‘scraps of battered love’ blew away years ago. I have been shouted at and held my voice while her anger has humiliated me. I have joked, reasoned, written and, in return, been accused of being callous and a failure. I have not judged but been supportive of every move. I have screamed into pillows and gone to bed crying despite being an adult, given myself space with the gym and sport, gone to counselling when I began to dream of falling planes and popping pills, written a diary to let go of stress.

 And I know that my story is entirely unexceptional. And that, perhaps, is why I am writing.

 To try to find who is to blame and who is more wrong or less right is futile – what is, just is, and who cares anyway – there is no value to apportioning fault. Coming to my mid-fifties with a child a couple of years from finishing school, I know I need to get away. While I have been accused of infidelity that is not true (never has been) and I have no one to go to. For my peace of my mind, though, for however many years I have left, I just need to be alone.

 She is a perfectly educated, outwardly charming, healthy, well-loved woman but one who has chosen, mostly, not to work – and that means that she is, perhaps, not as independent as she might be. I don’t care about monetary or financial arrangements – they can carry on as now; but I need to get away.

 I am not seeking permission but looking for guidance based on your experience. Is this immature? How do I get past the guilt and sense of duty? What is the thought process I can cultivate?

 With thanks

 A. (obviously, should you proceed with this, I would request anonymity)

 Background: The issues began almost from the start of my marriage - Confidant: 141: In the words of Don McLean, The Day the Music Died - April 2000 (dear-confidant.blogspot.com) and we almost came to divorce - Confidant: 155: History - when will she burp again? (dear-confidant.blogspot.com). There was then a Confidant: 99 – A Dramatic Turnaround (dear-confidant.blogspot.com) and life has been mostly peaceable and bearable since, but I cannot forget.

 

 

 

194: Random thoughts over a peaceful Easter break

She has been away for the last couple of weeks and will be for another - essentially during the Easter holiday.

Still no sign of a new job since she left the last one - Confidant: 190: The Job (dear-confidant.blogspot.com)

My son and I are, therefore, having a peaceful break - he works, we watch TV, he has gone out with some friends, he does the cooking for himself. I have suggested going away for a weekend or something but he has consistently said 'no'. He has started going out for walks and I leave him to it rather than suggest going along. 

When she rings me in the morning, it is all about this person or that person and how they are doing things all wrong. Come to think of it, the only people she does not - or hardly ever - criticises are some of her parents' (aged) friends - and, in turn, they absolutely adore her. Of her generation and those below, it is full of judgement and criticism.

Admittedly, where I am is also probably not the best place! In that I generally consider myself a failure while I see my friends (close or otherwise) having qualities that surpass me in every way and I am in awe of them. But, hey, life has been kind enough and I have done what I can.

There has to be a middle rung, right? Where, if you are confident in yourself, and have little to complain about, then you can afford to be generous to others? I do not mean in a patronising way but but people come from all sorts of different places and if they are saying or thinking things that you may not agree with, let it go. There is no need to judge them or try and show how your thoughts are better or whatever. It is possible to learn from them - if only to try and understand what one should care not to be - but why bring stress into one's own life by thinking about others?

Et voila, I am judging there myself, aren't I? And, as I write, I think that is the point. She rings me and immediately the thoughts start to ping around in my head. To be able to live without that running commentary would be great!

193: Treading water and having fun / staying peaceful

 I have written a couple of times about amnesia and how a few good moments can wipe out months of misery.

Her 50th birthday in early January and we go on a expensive trip to Costa Rica for Christmas. And, actually, it was quite fun. Good travelling group with us, our son was quiet but seemed to enjoy the time, we were being led from place to place and so she did not have much to 'control'.

(Once, though, we were given the option of cleaning or not cleaning our rooms at our hotel for a two night stay - would have been a few tens of dollars I suppose. As Costa Rica has the system of dumping the used toilet paper into a bin rather than flushing, I suggested it would be a good thing to have the room cleaned and, specifically, the dustbin refreshed. Of course she said no!)

In the same town, we needed to go to a supermarket for some provisions. 'Oh, I've heard of this one,' noticing one across the street. A more modern one was on this side of the road and looked a rather more attractive place. No, that was not a good option. The newer one turned out to have far better stocks and was the place where she could get coffee. (Of course I did not know this initially. I have no magic devining powers but why automatically shut me down?!!) 

Having come home, it's been peaceful as well. For her 50th I was expecting some issues as the only thing I'd planned was a dinner at a very posh restaurant and a card - plus Costa Rica! I was expecting (hoping?) for a blow at my lack of care.

(To be fair, I had suggested posh lunch and then a day out in London and a play - but she preferred a dinner, after school, with our son. Fair enough, Had also suggested a lunch with a group of her girlfriends - but this was also turned down. I know of other couples who have arranged parties in secret and so on but I was not going to be bothered with all that - it would be hypocritical.)

But no drama came. 

I wonder how long this reasonableness will last.

This, 'saying and doing the opposite' is almost an illness now. Usually she is a bit over-worried about petrol or charging up the cars. She always fills up well in advance. So I ask this afternoon whether she wants me to put her car on change as the range was down to about 30. 'It's 35 and I will need 24 tomorrow - it is better for a battery to be low down in charge before charging again.' Fair enough argument but completely opposite attitude to her usual one - but the constant is that it allowed her to go against what I was suggesting. Hey ho ....

So, treading water for now and I continue to wonder about the right time to say that we have no future together. Dunno - letting the universe flow.

192: Petty, petty, petty ...

Our cleaner gets £56 for four hours' work.

Usually I minimise the coins by providing £55 in notes and £1. And, week in week out, I am the one at home and get this done.

I have had this debate with my wife before where She, on the other hand, feels it necessary to exert some control by giving more coins and fewer notes!!

So, today, She is home and I see about ten £1 coins piled up. 'We should get rid of our change. If she won't use a bank account, I am under no obligation to provide her notes.'

I mean, this is just petty. The person being paid is a cleaner - she does not earn much. Do you have to be inconvenient and load her down with coins? Petty, petty, petty ...

She asks me the other day whether I am playing golf on Sunday. Yes. 'Well, I'll go to Canary Wharf for shopping.' I can feel and see that she is unhappy - presumably upset that we are not going Christmas shopping.

But we have also spent almost £7000 going to Costa Rica for the Christmas holidays and her 50th. And I have transferred the £600 that goes to our individual accounts from our joint one every December

Anyway, I cancel the golf and tell her we are going shopping. Mood visibly lifts. 

Child.

191: Petty - but drip, drip, drip ...

 A couple of friends of my family - one of whom is also related to my wife - were due to visit over the weekend; one on Saturday and one on Sunday. I had asked her permission for both knowing that she would want to be involved.

I had also resolved that I really could not be bothered to cook and would get food in. But suddenly she decides to cook and, of course, I don't say no. But I know the stress ahead - everything last minute, kitchen a mess and stress (taken out on me / us) everywhere.

And that is what happens. I go to pick up the guest at about 6:30 on Saturday evening and the cooking has not even started. I come back and there is spilt milk all over the cooker. The plan was to watch the World Cup football quarter final together, Had I been cooking, all would have been done and dusted and ready to eat. 

Now, I could feel guilty about her cooking away while I watch the football but I don't - it is poor time management again and being a hero. We finally eat at 9 which was not the plan but the food is good and all is fine.

The next morning, I clean up half the kitchen and go to the gym. I come back and I can feel the tension. She asks me to unpack a new toaster she has bought. I go to throw away the bag and am told she wants to keep it to send other stuff back. I start to fold the bag prior to putting it away and am told that I am not doing it correctly! And so it continues, one petty instruction after another.

In the meantime, the induction cooker hob now looks to be permanently marked thanks to her - I can imagine the reaction had that been me!!! But I say nothing.

Today is Monday and I had been to the corner of Oxford Street and Regent Street to give blood for NHS Blood Donation and was relating the story - so I was conversing! 'Where exactly on the corner?' I confess I get annoyed and say 'what does it matter - you don't know every shop.' 'There is no need to be rude,' she says. Which is true but this need for irrelevant detail is irritating.

However, what I don't say is that it is a bit rich for her to talk about rudeness when our son and I have to put up with much worse every single, fucking day. She truly does not realise the effect she has on people.

190: The Job

 About two years ago now, she started a job at a small school.

I had always considered that M. was more enamoured about the idea of a job and its benefits than putting in the hard yards. But the role is tough, the school is strange, and she has buckled down over the last two years or more. She has bought herself a new car with the first year's earnings.

But there has been a lot of complaining throughout - when there was a boss who was completely hands-off and now when there is a boss who is clearly a micro-manager. The last few months mostly what I have heard is how she should get more holidays out of term time and what are her rights and so on. 

I had always believed that you needed to be doing really good work before getting frustrated and give the organisation every chance to recover the situation. But, yes, there can be bad bosses. The conversation, however, has not been about how she did a really good job here and there and was not rewarded - it has been about 'I work through lunch and so I should have more holidays in lieu.' Justifiable actually but narrow.

Today, she has gone to resign and blame that partly on racism - ironic given how often she judges others on playing 'the race card.'

And, actually, from the entries linked, it is surprising that she does not get on with a micro-managing, non-trusting, bullying boss - because that describes her as well! I have generally got on with hands-off bosses as they gel with my character. 

Anyway, I am being supportive and listening and not giving advice. I know from experience that sometimes there is no recovering the situation and crap bosses are crap bosses and it is best to move out. 

I did think about suggesting to her that she should not resign but basically work the minimum effort and continue looking for another job while in a job. Noting that, as the main earner, I would never have had the luxury of walking away. And she clearly does not remember her friend who took a job when her husband was made redundant and took a good while to find another role. This friend complained bitterly about her environment but put her head down and worked and still does so.

But, firstly, perhaps I was just never brave enough in my life to leave and, secondly, I do not want to be accountable in any way for her decisions - I have never been in the past and never tried to influence but always support. Yes, if I can leave her, then it is easier if she is in a job, or everything gets a lot more difficult, I suppose. Precisely because of that, however, I felt that my motives would be conflicted if I advised her not to resign.

So, I stay silent and wonder.

(and I have written about amnesia. In searching for the older entries, I come across other entries - Confidant: 73 - Yet more challenges to my value (dear-confidant.blogspot.com) and Confidant: 161: Trying - just trying (dear-confidant.blogspot.com) that remind about the anger and unhappiness that has rained down on me over the years. I will stay only because of pity and or duty - but that is not what she would want, right?)

189: Bursting into tears - don't know why

The other day I was watching an old episode of the West Wing where CJ Cregg goes home to Idaho and sees her father suffering from Alzheimer's. Suddenly, and this has happened twice in the car as well, I burst into hacking tears. I don't know why. Today (December 2nd) is my mother's birthday and the 6th is my father's death anniversary. On the 20th I turn 54 and I will become older than my beloved cousin. 

I wrote to my cousin's husband that I feel a lack of love around me. Who can I melt into? Who can actually just hold me? We were not that close emotionally, but I could with my parents, and I could with my cousin - with no words necessarily being said. Now, there is no one. Yes, friends would give me that comfort, but I would not want to burden them - they have their own lives. 

And, in the end, what does it matter? We all travel alone.

A few incidents:

She organises a trip to Brussels with her friend and gets the wrong month for the train and hotel bookings. They luck out and do not have to pay extra and now it is a funny story - but. boy, if I had been the culprit! 

Obviously, I do all that needs to be done at home in terms of shopping and washing - tasks I am not trusted with when she is home!

One morning, she specifically says before going to work, 'don't run the dishwasher, there's plenty of space for dinner things.' There isn't, there's a bunch of stuff in the sink, but I don't argue. At the end of the day, she spends an hour and half re-arranging things and there are as many glasses and things left over in the sink as there were in the morning - and I have to hang around because I cannot clean the rest of the kitchen until she moves away from the sink! Annoying in a petty way and I point out that her hour and a half of delay made no difference whatsoever other than stressing both of us out. 'You don't know how to load the dishwasher,' was her response.

The following weekend she is laid up in bed with a virus. I do everything again - quite rightly - but, given that it is winter, I put some of the clothes into the tumble dryer. 'You should not have done that. If you are going to do that, you need to let me know. His sports clothes don't go into the dryer.' (They had not and there was nothing wrong with any of the clothes I had put in.)

And, yet, while I am upset at the tone and the anger, ten minutes later it is all sweetness and light. Is that real, can it be real?! How can you be so nasty to someone whom you are nice to less than a half hour later? I confess I cannot turn anger off and on like that.

Bollocks.