orionid

Le Sigh.

How do you tell someone you love what you want to say when they have the emotional fragility of a porcelain ornithopter in a stiff breeze? I want to talk to my wife. No, I need to talk to my wife. But I don't want to hurt her. The past year has been extremely stressful for both of us, but thanks to the US Navy Submarine Force, I have ten years of experience in dealing with stress levels most people can't even begin to imagine. She doesn't, and it's taking a huge toll on her. She's showing all the signs of depression, a road I'm intimately familiar with, and one I don't want to push her any further down.

I'm torn in two directions right now. Part of me that wants to be the loving, nurturing, protecting husband and shield her from anything painful, and part of me wants to just rip the band-aid off and let things heal. All my life, I've been blunt, honest, and direct to the point while still trying to maintain a modicum of tact, however I'm now finding myself reserved when I know the outcome will be painful.

I think a large part of it still has to do with the suicide of my ex fiance when I told her that I was no longer comfortable with our compromise of not having kids. We spent several months trying to rework things out, and ultimately, I gave her the choice to either have kids or move on. She killed herself that night. Since then, I've been much more reserved about how I present certain things within a relationship.

I love my wife. I don't want to leave her. But I feel like she is smothering me slowly. I need to explore, to do new things and see new places. It's as much a part of who I am as a need for oxygen. It's why I spent ten years in the navy. When we were dating, we went places and did things. Life was great. Now we make plans and cancel them. I come home from work and she's sitting on her ass in front of the computer, and doesn't leave until bedtime. I worry about her health - she's gained over 80 pounds since we've been married. I don't care about the physical size, I like her curves, but I worry about what she's doing to herself on the inside. I worry about her back supporting the weight, her blood pressure, and her diet. Especially since we've been trying, rather unsuccessfully to conceive. I try to get her out of the house to do something physical, but the answer is always the same "I don't really feel like it." For my birthday this year, I asked for one thing. A trip to the local airshow. It's been six miles down the road half my life, only cost $10, and I've never actually been. I figured if I made it a birthday request, she'd be guilted into going. As it turns out, it was "too hot" and "too hazy for pictures" that day. I still haven't been to the airshow. When I do get her out of the house, it's nothing but complaints the whole time.

I want to live. I want to feel alive. I want to feel like my wife is the same woman I married less than a year ago. And I don't know how to bring it up without destroying her, so I seem to just keep repeating the same vicious cycle of placating her while slowly falling into an unwavering rut.