After Charles returned from Washington D.C. and I returned home… things were different. Since I hadn’t seen Charles since the day before my procedure, I guess I didn’t really know what to do or say. Sure, we had talked on the phone and stuff… but it still seemed awkward to talk in person after something so tragic happened.
I tried talking to him like we used to, but it wasn’t working. I wasn’t the same person I was. In fact I didn’t know who I was. I was confused, lost and broken. This some how made me want to put a wall up between me and my husband. This may have been because I was still trying to protect him, or it may have been because I somehow resented him for going on a trip that I told him to go on… who knows.
Through a few days of tip toeing around each other, awkwardness and short tempers, we finally hit our breaking point. We fought. It was tension that had been boiling for awhile. It was pretty intense and a level of fighting we hadn’t had in a long time. Despite the fact it was intense and stressful, it was necessary. We needed that fight. That fight helped us move forward.
I had come to a point that I didn’t want to ask for what I needed, I just wanted Charles to know what I needed. What was really cruel was the fact that Charles would try to help and be there for me, and I would constantly shoot him down if it wasn’t exactly what I wanted or needed at the time. Looking back, I feel absolutely terrible. That wasn’t fair to Charles. In the end, I had to swallow my pride and ask for what I needed. It wasn’t easy but in the end it helped both our mental health and our marriage.