I am writing this a little late after a terrible fight with my wife.
It seems like ever since we we remodeled and moved into our new apartment we have had relationship problems that have flared into knock-down, drag-out fights. I can't put my finger on it but something changed and now we walk on eggshells around one another. Since our move we have had two terrible fights and it is the most recent one I am writing about now.
It was a Friday (I think) and we had spent the day in Alameda preparing for a Cinco de Mayo party (which also happens to be my nephew's birthday) to be held on the following Saturday. My wife had all sorts of elaborate plans that went awry when it happened that the party was to be held outside, something she had not known. It was impossible decorate anything particularly noteworthy in their back yard so in a rather could mood we did what we could. She complained the whole way home while I listened in frightened silence. I know it's not a good idea to interrupt her or offer up alternative explanations or soothing remarks when she is angry and aggressive.
I think our plan was to attend the party together but she never came. I think it was because of the fight we had earlier. I cannot remember now.
Like our previous fights the details are a little foggy to me. I remember getting into an argument with her about something or another. I was home seething about it when she called and asked me to bring down the small, portable stereo, iPod, her medicine and something else. She double-parked in front of our apartment building and I came down and threw the stuff into the front seat and slammed the door. I only remember her look of bewilderment.
I got a call from her mother some time later and I raged on the telephone that I was sick and tired of being treated like a doormat by her daughter. The exact words elude me now but I ended by asking her to tell her daughter that she should remain at her mother's when she came home and to not return to our apartment. I guess my wife had left again after my angry outburst with the car. My wife must have returned shortly afterward and I think she called me to tell me that she was coming over to get her things.
She arrived and started hastily throwing stuff into her bags. She was hurling invectives at me and I at her. Any meaningful communication was gone—we were both so angry and antagonistic towards one another. She finally flew off the handle and attacked me physically. She started pounding me with her fists and slapping me repeatedly. She ran out of the bedroom and in the kitchen threw a knife into the kitchen floor. I believe she had intended to attack me with it. She ran out of the kitchen and I returned the knife to its holder.
Here's where it gets really very foggy for me. Apparently my brother had been calling me all night without an answer from me. I had taken my nighttime medication and when I'm asleep from it practically nothing can wake me. I didn't hear the telephone. I think I must have called him earlier in the evening to weep about the fight my wife and I had. My sister-in-law called twice and it was the second time I finally heard the phone. They were desperate to know if I was OK. In the meantime, my brother had called the police to come and check on me.
They were pounding on the door and I awoke to find my brother, four police officers and the two useless security guards for my apartment complex standing in the hall. I was groggy and barely able to make out what was happening. My wife was also there. Why I don't know. Perhaps she had come back to get more of her stuff. She was livid with rage and cursed at me with the most vile bile imaginable. This woke me up enough to call her a fucking whore and to get out of my apartment. The police broke it up and my wife stormed out with her bags through the exterior hallway door. I think her daughter was also there because I remember the look of bewilderment on her face. I'm unclear on what happened next. The police officers and security men left in disgust after having witnessed a vile domestic fight in which no one was hurt.
I got a call later from her daughter telling me that my wife was lying in a bloody heap at the bottom of the stairs leading up to her mother's apartment. I ran bare-footed across the lawn to find her semi-conscious at the foot of the stairs with her bags strewn abound her. She reeked of alcohol. I helped her up and asked her if she could move her limbs. All I got was a mumble. I got really scared and called 911. The paramedics arrived and determined that she was OK. I helped her up the stairs and into her mother's apartment. I then went down and retrieved her bags. I remembered her crying that I had spoiled her daughter's birthday party. I don't understand this because her daughter's birthday wasn't for almost two weeks later. Maybe this is from a later hateful exchange of words.
If my brother wasn't already there I must have called him to come and get me. I packed my bag and left for their house in Alameda. I was completely sober by then. The adreniline must have awakened me. I remember my brother saying some very wise things about relationship problems but they escape me now. I spent the night on an air mattress in their living room.
The weekend progressed pretty smoothly for me in Alameda. The party was a huge success and everybody enjoyed it immensely. Except for me. I was sad about what had happened. I stayed until Sunday morning when I left to return home by BART.I got several texts from my wife during the weekend which were very civil, friendly if not particularly loving. Of course, as usual, she accepted absolutely no responsibility for her actions. She apologized for nothing. As usual, everything was, as it always is, my fault.
I don't know why these problems have happened. The couples' therapy isn't working at all. My wife gets defensive and thinks that one or the other of us is either the "winner" or "loser" of the session. I guess she thought she was the loser of the last session to judge from her demeanor afterwards. I've since cancelled the next session and told the therapist not to expect us back unless I call again to schedule another appointment. My wife got angry with me when I told her this. I can't understand why. She did not seem to be getting anything out of it at all and from what I can tell only complained about the cost.
There's more that happened at a later date that maybe I'll blog about when I have the energy to do so.
Right now I am cold, tired, lonely and feeling completely hopeless.
It seems like ever since we we remodeled and moved into our new apartment we have had relationship problems that have flared into knock-down, drag-out fights. I can't put my finger on it but something changed and now we walk on eggshells around one another. Since our move we have had two terrible fights and it is the most recent one I am writing about now.
It was a Friday (I think) and we had spent the day in Alameda preparing for a Cinco de Mayo party (which also happens to be my nephew's birthday) to be held on the following Saturday. My wife had all sorts of elaborate plans that went awry when it happened that the party was to be held outside, something she had not known. It was impossible decorate anything particularly noteworthy in their back yard so in a rather could mood we did what we could. She complained the whole way home while I listened in frightened silence. I know it's not a good idea to interrupt her or offer up alternative explanations or soothing remarks when she is angry and aggressive.
I think our plan was to attend the party together but she never came. I think it was because of the fight we had earlier. I cannot remember now.
Like our previous fights the details are a little foggy to me. I remember getting into an argument with her about something or another. I was home seething about it when she called and asked me to bring down the small, portable stereo, iPod, her medicine and something else. She double-parked in front of our apartment building and I came down and threw the stuff into the front seat and slammed the door. I only remember her look of bewilderment.
I got a call from her mother some time later and I raged on the telephone that I was sick and tired of being treated like a doormat by her daughter. The exact words elude me now but I ended by asking her to tell her daughter that she should remain at her mother's when she came home and to not return to our apartment. I guess my wife had left again after my angry outburst with the car. My wife must have returned shortly afterward and I think she called me to tell me that she was coming over to get her things.
She arrived and started hastily throwing stuff into her bags. She was hurling invectives at me and I at her. Any meaningful communication was gone—we were both so angry and antagonistic towards one another. She finally flew off the handle and attacked me physically. She started pounding me with her fists and slapping me repeatedly. She ran out of the bedroom and in the kitchen threw a knife into the kitchen floor. I believe she had intended to attack me with it. She ran out of the kitchen and I returned the knife to its holder.
Here's where it gets really very foggy for me. Apparently my brother had been calling me all night without an answer from me. I had taken my nighttime medication and when I'm asleep from it practically nothing can wake me. I didn't hear the telephone. I think I must have called him earlier in the evening to weep about the fight my wife and I had. My sister-in-law called twice and it was the second time I finally heard the phone. They were desperate to know if I was OK. In the meantime, my brother had called the police to come and check on me.
They were pounding on the door and I awoke to find my brother, four police officers and the two useless security guards for my apartment complex standing in the hall. I was groggy and barely able to make out what was happening. My wife was also there. Why I don't know. Perhaps she had come back to get more of her stuff. She was livid with rage and cursed at me with the most vile bile imaginable. This woke me up enough to call her a fucking whore and to get out of my apartment. The police broke it up and my wife stormed out with her bags through the exterior hallway door. I think her daughter was also there because I remember the look of bewilderment on her face. I'm unclear on what happened next. The police officers and security men left in disgust after having witnessed a vile domestic fight in which no one was hurt.
I got a call later from her daughter telling me that my wife was lying in a bloody heap at the bottom of the stairs leading up to her mother's apartment. I ran bare-footed across the lawn to find her semi-conscious at the foot of the stairs with her bags strewn abound her. She reeked of alcohol. I helped her up and asked her if she could move her limbs. All I got was a mumble. I got really scared and called 911. The paramedics arrived and determined that she was OK. I helped her up the stairs and into her mother's apartment. I then went down and retrieved her bags. I remembered her crying that I had spoiled her daughter's birthday party. I don't understand this because her daughter's birthday wasn't for almost two weeks later. Maybe this is from a later hateful exchange of words.
If my brother wasn't already there I must have called him to come and get me. I packed my bag and left for their house in Alameda. I was completely sober by then. The adreniline must have awakened me. I remember my brother saying some very wise things about relationship problems but they escape me now. I spent the night on an air mattress in their living room.
The weekend progressed pretty smoothly for me in Alameda. The party was a huge success and everybody enjoyed it immensely. Except for me. I was sad about what had happened. I stayed until Sunday morning when I left to return home by BART.I got several texts from my wife during the weekend which were very civil, friendly if not particularly loving. Of course, as usual, she accepted absolutely no responsibility for her actions. She apologized for nothing. As usual, everything was, as it always is, my fault.
I don't know why these problems have happened. The couples' therapy isn't working at all. My wife gets defensive and thinks that one or the other of us is either the "winner" or "loser" of the session. I guess she thought she was the loser of the last session to judge from her demeanor afterwards. I've since cancelled the next session and told the therapist not to expect us back unless I call again to schedule another appointment. My wife got angry with me when I told her this. I can't understand why. She did not seem to be getting anything out of it at all and from what I can tell only complained about the cost.
There's more that happened at a later date that maybe I'll blog about when I have the energy to do so.
Right now I am cold, tired, lonely and feeling completely hopeless.
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