How many people head to a marriage counselor before divorce?
The first time he came to me, told me he didn’t love me any more I was crushed. But I was optimistic we could do this. I knew this was just a bump. For 11 years it was us against the world. I can’t lose him.
A month later it wasn’t enough. After my kicking in the door episode and uncovering the cheating, I called a therapist for us.
The first visit was a “get to know you” type. We did fine. But it was during this visit I knew we truly were fucked. He was hell bent on not admitting to any type of cheating in any form.
After that we went weekly. It was like spending an hour every week and having someone scrape the inside of my body with a knife. Seriously. It was painful.
One exercise she did was have him rate on a scale of 1 to 10 how much he loved me. First of all. What the actual fuck is that supposed to accomplish other then completely destroying me? Second. She never asked me that question about him. Want know what he said the first time? 2. A fucking 2 out of 10. The mother of his 8 month old baby. The woman he talked in to getting married young. The woman he spent 11 years with. He could only muster a fucking 2. I was silent for a short moment and then like someone had opened a gate I was crying. I was close to suffocation. I remember how he looked at me. Like he was sorry. But he was also not. It was a terrible ride home that night.
As time went on the sessions got easier for me to get through with less tears. We mostly focused on him. Why he felt he didn’t love me. Why he had an “empty” feeling inside. (If you ask me he didn’t love me because he was clouded by the girl he met and he was empty because he KNEW what he was doing was wrong… he lost his sense of who he was in the process) The counselor did a great job of staying “impartial” so he didn’t feel attacked. Then in one session she even hinted that he is a cheater and he has destroyed me he asked to leave. And from that point on they focused on what I was doing wrong every session.
Finally the session that put the final nail in the coffin. She asked him to rate how much he loves me again from 1 to 10. (This was the fourth time. The last time we worked our way to a whopping 5). He said 1. I burst out with a choked “Are you fucking kidding me?” and was reminded that I need to remain calm. Right. Calm. I felt that crushing feeling again. That was the world coming down on me. Then she asked him why. I’ll never forget this.
She was doing ok. She was cleaning more and paying more attention to me. But she isn’t consistent. She isn’t changing enough.
“She isn’t changing enough” I heard it loud and clear. You know what in that moment if she asked me that question with the 1-10 scale. I would have said 0.
I asked him, so what the hell are we fighting for. Are you telling me this is it. To stop?
He was dead silent. Wouldn’t look at me. That was may answer.
She said “So I’ll see you next week?” and he made an appointment. I left. He chased me. I was hyperventilating as I walked to my car and I walked as fast as I could. I told him to go pick up the boy and go home. I’ll meet him there. Then I crouched in the rain next to my car and cried. I cried so hard my chest was sore. My head was throbbing and I thought I’d never smile again. I remember praying to god in that moment. To just kill me. Take it all away. I remember that was the moment I knew I would never be the same.
Sometimes when I drive by that building now, I wince. It’s still terribly painful.
Marriage counseling showed me I didn’t want to be married to him. I am not sure if that was a job well done on the counselor’s part or not.
But if you ask me. It was worth the pain. Looking from a new perspective, how sad and how terrible an experience. And I was fighting so hard to salvage something that was already gone.