I think that this is really how my husband feels:

“Oh Tess, forgiveness does not apply in this case! You were one person; now you are a another. My God – how can forgiveness meet such a grotesque – prestidigitation as that!”

Thomas Hardy, Tess of the d’Urbevilles, XXXV

Last night I decided I would share about the fumble I had with the workman while my husband was in Manchester.

I started by checking out how things had gone while he was away. He said that he did what he intended to do; he doesn’t really do enthusiasm, so it was a little hard to judge whether he had enjoyed himself. It soundsled like a mix. He didn’t go out at night, he drank a lot of coffee on his own, and he went to sauna (although I didn’t know about that straight away).

I then said that while he was away it had a fumble, I would tell him as much as he wanted to know, but I wasn’t going to tell him everything unless he asked to hear it.

The interrogation

I hadn’t expected what happened next. He pumped me for information, he wanted to know everything.

He was angry.

At one point I asked him whether he was angry because it happened in the house or because it happened at all. “Both!” was his answer.

He said that we’d needed to talk about the rules much more before anything else happened.

He was angry that it had happened on the floor with somebody he “knew”. He couldn’t look at the floor the same again.

I said that I thought I’d had permission – “I’d given him permission” he shouted back at me because it’s wanted permission to do it myself. I said that I couldn’t have done anything without it applying to both of us. He called me selfish.

During his “talk”, he said that he had gone to a sauna and the suggestion was that something had happened, however, I am not completely clear on that.

Command functions are offline

I’d started off in a “good” place, where I was prepared to discuss what had happened openly and honestly. The anger that came back at me was unexpected. I might have expected some irritation that it had happened in the house, but I’d thought that given that he was off in Manchester “having fun” and that I hadn’t sought it out would make a difference.

Processing overwhelm

Shutdowns usually start when my ability to process emotion is outstripped by the intensity and speed of their arrival. This is the typical route, which is how I can still experience them when I’m in the safe space of counselling.

They can also be triggered when I’m feeling attacked, this can be a real threat, or simply the way my brain perceives the incoming data. I suspect that an emotional overwhelm from outside is interpreted by my brain as an assault of some kind. I never feel assaulted when I am with my counsellor, even at times of overwhelm, but I frequently do with my husband.

Sticky thoughts

To start with, I might have racing thoughts as I try to keep up with what is said, what the accompanying emotions are that come with it, and what I think and feel about what’s coming at me, finally I am trying to work out what to say. By which time, the conversation has moved on.

Then starts the “glue brain” where my thoughts begin to slow down under the onslaught. I’ve found, that even at this point, that a “time out” can slow the process down, or maybe even prevent it getting worse.

My husband shouted at me “don’t you dare fucking shut down!”

Inside of me were two forces.

One desperately trying to prevent the shutdown, almost screaming with frustration at myself and him. At myself because my brain doesn’t work the way I want it to. At myself because I wanted to shout “this isn’t fair!”.

Paralysis

The other force was detecting a threat and shutting me down.

First my brain slowed to a crawl, cowering from the torrent of emotion and words.

Then movement became progressively more difficult.

I am effectively paralysed.

This has happened before. Sometimes it can be upsetting while it happens, but usually there is a comfort to it. If I don’t move, then there’s nothing to attack – like the terrified hedgehog curled up to protect itself.

My mind is safely stored away.

Calmer

After a while, the husband was calmer. However, I cannot remember anything much from that point. This is the thing, and that thing that should say to him “stop talking because you’re wasting your breath”: once glue-brain starts, I’m really not present anymore.

Strangely, he then started asking me about shutdowns. I remember this because it surprised me. I don’t remember what I said though, I was fighting to work my body and my mouth. They didn’t want to work. My vocabulary was very limited, I know that much.

At one point I think I said “no choice”.

Somehow I got to bed. I know that I’d not taken my meds, my testosterone, nor had I brushed my teeth. I didn’t draw the curtains, I did not sleep well.

The day after

I struggled to get up for the fifth day in a row. I felt really very tired all day. The husband has barely spoken to me all day. I think the only thing I established from him is that he got up at 5am.

I think he is now abusing his medication.

I am tired of this.

Backtracking husband

I remember writing a blog with this heading last year (Backtracking Husband). It’s about how my husband would one day be ok or even supportive of something (in that instance, my castration surgery), and the next be vehemently against it.

Back then it left me in a terribly vulnerable place; after one such episode I took an overdose that put me on hospital for a couple of days.

I cannot deal with this hot and cold, this yes then no, that I get from him.

Right now I am feeling so tired and so low.