My husband hasn’t been himself lately. He’s seemed down. Distant. Very grumpy. He gets angry a lot. Things have been very unpleasant. Finally, after putting our daughter to bed the other night, I broached the subject.
“Honey, is there something that’s been eating at you lately? You don’t seem very happy…”
“I’ve been grumpy, haven’t I?”
“Well, yes, you have. And it’s not like you. I’m concerned.”
I desperately wanted him to tell me my instincts were wrong. Reassure me. Say I had misconstrued the situation, and there was nothing going on. Instead, he sat down and let out a long, heavy sigh. His shoulders sank, and his body language told me something big was coming. I was terrified of what I was about to hear.
Then he used the words I don’t think a wife ever does want to hear: mid-life crisis.
We talked for a couple of hours, during which he outlined all the things about his life he is unhappy about:
The status of his career and the lack of opportunity for advancement with his company.
A feeling he has not accomplished enough (particularly in comparision to others).
The lack of other job options.
The fact that having a child later in life means he will not be able to retire anytime soon.
Our financial status since we decided I would quit working and care for our child full-time until she starts school.
The things he can’t do because of the above.
His physical state – the signs of aging he is noticing.
Our lack of a social life.
All the issues we are dealing with concerning our own parents. And how much worse things are going to get. Soon.
I was relieved to not hear him listing our relationship or family life. He said those are the things that keep him going and bring him the only happiness he has. Although he is not able to enjoy them as he once did.
He is not enjoying much of anything these days.
I calmly pointed out that some of the issues concerning him are under his control, and some are not. I asked what he thought he could do to change or improve the former, and how he could learn to let go of or accept the latter. Furthermore, what could he do to invest in himself? Carve out time just for him, to engage in something that will truly make him happy? He has a number of hobbies he loves, but he hasn’t been devoting any time to them recently.
It was a good conversation. He seemed relieved to be able to get it all out and that I accepted his concerns without judgment. He hadn’t thought about some of the things I brought up and seemed somewhat encouraged.
Since then, however, he continues to sink deeper. Grow more distant. I fear he is becoming severely depressed.
I’ve been through a major life transition myself. In fact, I’m just coming out of my own period of discontent. The transition to motherhood was not an easy one for me, but I am finally in a good place. I’ve made changes and taken control of my own happiness, which has made all the difference. I have a better outlook on my life – our life. But have I been so focused on myself I haven’t given him enough? Or could my recent experience help me help my husband through his difficult time?
What was most noticeable and concerning to me during our conversation was the tone of his voice and the pained expression on his face as he talked. He was a man deflated. I hurt for him.
I’m going to admit I had a selfish reaction as well. What does this mean for ME? My marriage? Will it survive? I want to support him, do everything I can to help him, but I also feel a strong desire to protect myself and my daughter in the event this ends badly.
I fear there is a storm coming, and I don’t know what to do. I am so scared. I want to help my husband get through this. Most importantly, I want US to get through this.
While we at The Band work tirelessly to bring you expert resource pages, sometimes the best advice is from someone who has been where you’re standing. What follows is a mixture between a resource page and a post.
I introduce to you, The Band, a Demo Tape.
Take what you need and leave the rest.
I have a quirky sense of humor, coupled with a southern gal’s disposition, so brace yourselves for impact. This will be a bit of a rant, but it’s been building up for awhile, and sometimes ya need a rant to get the point across.
When I moved to West Virginia, I had no idea how downright painful it would be to deal with the uneducated public when they encounter me, my service dogs, and (possibly) one of my seizures while I’m out trying to live my life. It’s as though the burden of WV service dog education has fallen squarely upon my shoulders.
And that? SUCKS!
On behalf of all people with service dogs in WV or elsewhere, listen up:
No, not EVERY service dog is a seeing-eye dog. I am NOT blind.
No, I am NOT training my service dog for another person or a blind person.
No, it is NOT okay for you to talk/whistle/call to my service dog for ANY reason. You are distracting him from his job, and my safety depends upon him doing his job to the very best of his ability. You wouldn’t walk up to and pet, whistle, praise, talk to, or feed someone’s wheelchair, cane, or walker. Don’t do it to my dog.
No, you may NOT pet my service dog. He is WORKING at keeping me safe in what can be a very dangerous environment for me – please respect my needs. My one dog will avoid people who try to walk up and touch him by moving to the other side of me, yet people STILL try to touch him past that. The dog will sigh loudly if someone tries to pet him, yet people find that adorable. Pay attention to the dog’s body cues!
Yes, he is my service dog! I am not just walking around with a random person’s service dog for kicks. It isn’t easy to have such a requirement.
Yes, I NEED a service dog. Even though you cannot see what’s wrong with me, I am disabled. No, my health issues that require a service dog are not something I have ANY desire to speak about in public with a perfect stranger.
Yes, it IS rude to start with “But you don’t look sick” when you ask me why I need service dogs. In fact, I may haul off and punch you if you do so. The blatant disregard and disrespect which runs rampant here is getting old. I’m tired of being judged by my outside ALL of the time. So just stop it. I don’t judge you for wearing your pajamas to the store.
Yes, it IS extremely BAD for your kid to walk up to ANY dog they do not know, let alone tackle a service dog. It’s not the dog’s fault if it bites your kid when it’s your kid who ran up to the dog. The dog is defending itself and its handler. TEACH your children – they are your responsibility. I keep my responsibility on a leash.
Do NOT smack my dog or jerk my dog from me to shove something into my mouth, with the intention of preventing me from swallowing my tongue. STOP BEING IGNORANT. I will NOT swallow my tongue – it’s an old wives’ tale, a person cannot swallow their tongue.
My service dogs are my lifeline; they know more about me and my seizure disorder than you EVER will. Let them do their jobs. Touch my dogs or my person and you risk getting the arse-whoopin’ of your life when I come to. Just ask the well-meaning idiot who broke one of my back teeth with a spoon (a tooth that I still don’t have the money to repair). She slapped my dog and slung him off me, not realizing that I could have choked to death on my own vomit. Not OKAY! I will never be a victim to a random person’s stupidity ever again. Someone should have stood up and stopped her – no one did. Well-meaning idiots are still dangerous idiots. Do NOT be a well-meaning idiot – educate yourself!
*breathes deeply*
Okay, allow me to begin again.
Hi, my name is Tearanny and I have two wonderful service dogs, Drachon and The Fatkid. Drachon is a 7-year-old German Shepherd that loves to swim and play ball at every opportunity. The Fatkid is a 15-year-old chocolate lab cross that loves tummy scratches and anything food related.
We all enjoy time outside together whenever my health and the weather allow. Both are extremely territorial of their yard and their Momma. They are very loving, loyal, and exceptionally well trained to take good care of my special needs.
My boys are both certified and registered Seizure Alert & Assistance Service Dogs. I have left temporal lobe epilepsy which generalizes. It is a brain disorder that results in seizures that cause me to lose consciousness and hurt myself in the process. When these seizures occur, my service dogs sense the chemical changes in my brain chemistry and warn me long before my body presents an aura – pretty amazing by anyone’s standards.
For those that do not know, an “aura” is a distinctive feeling or some other warning sign that a seizure is coming. My boys help me lie down, turn me onto my side, and lie on me to keep me on my side throughout the seizure activity. They can bring me my medication and my telephone upon request, or if either feel that it is necessary at any point.
My boys will lick my face to calm me as I begin to stir from my seizure activity – I’m in a postictal state, a “flight or fight” response immediately after a seizure, and then an extreme exhaustion sets in.
My dogs are a deep emotional support after seizure events. They help me keep my balance as I make my way to the bathroom and bed after seizures or on days when my balance is still affected by bad seizure events. They never judge me for being too sick to brush my teeth, cancelling plans, or failing to change into something fashionable the day after a seizure when I’m too sore to move. They love me unconditionally and I owe them to be worthy of such devotion – they are my shaggy blessings!!
So, if you see us out and about, or anyone else with a service dog, here is the skinny on how to act:
Service Dog Etiquette
Never pet, call, talk, feed, whistle to, or otherwise distract a service dog for ANY reason. To do so can potentially injure a handler and earn the dog a correction; even the most well trained dogs can be distracted. Be kind, considerate, and thoughtful – if you are sincerely a lover of animals, respect the dog’s job and his handler.
Ignore a service dog; it’s truly what the dogs PREFER. Remember, they are NOT pets; they are trained to do a very important job that they take EXTREMELY seriously. A person’s well being is completely reliant upon that dog’s work drive – respect that dog’s drive.
If you feel you must pet a service dog, ASK first. But don’t feel offended if the handler says “No.” Service dogs need to be released from Work Mode to interact with someone; this can be a SEVERE hazard to the health of the handler. The dog (or handler) might be having a bad day, or might be in a hurry. Ever tried to make it through the store when 20 people are asking to pet your service dog and all you want to do is get your groceries and get home because you feel awful? I have, and it is less fun each it happens.
Train children to never waltz up to a strange dog – ANY dog – without first asking permission. Teach them to follow your lead, and make sure your lead is worth following. Teach your kids about safety around dogs and then teach yourself about service dogs.
Speak to the person, not the assistance dog. Most handlers do not mind talking about service dogs and their dog specifically, if they have the time and you are respectful with your inquiry.
Never make assumptions about the individual’s intelligence, feelings or capabilities. Offers of help are appreciated, but ask first. Usually, the human/dog team can get the task done by themselves.
Don’t be afraid of the service dog. There is no need to be afraid of a service dog. They have been professionally trained to have excellent manners and skills. Always approach an assistance dog calmly and speak to their human partner.
If you happen to see me when I’m having a seizure and my dogs are with me, leave us alone. Let my boys do the job they were born and trained to do. I will ask that you keep the well-intentioned idiots away from my boys and me until the floppy-fish dance has concluded. When I come back around, I will call my folks or a friend to pick us up to take us home. Pretty simple, eh? No reason to hit my service dog and break my tooth!
Business Owners and Service Animals
Some customers and employees may be anxious or nervous about an assistance dog in a business establishment. While I reassure them that my service dog is thoroughly trained and has a legal right to be there under the ADA, it gets old repeating myself each time I enter a new establishment. Here are a few tips for business owners:
–Businesses may ask if an animal is a service animal OR ask what tasks it has been trained to perform; however, businesses cannot require special ID cards for the animal or ask about the person’s disability.
–People with disabilities who use service animals cannot be charged extra fees, isolated from other patrons or treated less favorably than other customers. People with assistance dogs deserve the same respect as any other customer. However, if a business such as a hotel normally charges guests for damage that they cause, a customer with a disability may be charged for damage caused by his or her service animal.
–A person with a disability cannot be asked to remove his or her service animal from the premises unless:
(1) the animal is out of control and its owner does not take effective action to control it (for example, a dog that barks repeatedly during a movie), or
(2) the animal poses a direct threat to the health or safety of others. In these cases, the business should give the person with a disability the option to obtain goods and services without having the animal on premises.
–Businesses that sell or prepare food must allow service animals in public areas even if state or local health codes prohibit animals on the premises.
–A business is not required to provide care or food for a service animal, or provide a special area for it to relieve itself.
–Allergies and fear of animals are not valid reasons for denying access or refusing service to people with service animals.
–Violators of the ADA can be required to pay money damages and penalties.
Some days, despite the blessings I have, I am reminded over and over and over again that I do not have the one thing in my life I thought I would have: a child.
Children.
It seems like everyone I know is expecting their first, their second child. And I try really hard to be happy for them. I try so hard to mouth the right things, because I am happy for them. But every one of those words of congratulations tears open the scars – I will never have a child. Not a child of my own. (And I do very much consider an adopted child to be my own, by the way.)
My wife is not just simply not ready, but also not…capable. I’m not talking physically, but emotionally. I’m already keeping our home together, taking over pretty much every responsibility.
I may be a bad person, but I can’t take care of all of our details, make sure she’s taking all of her medications, and be the sole caretaker of a child as well. Hell, I doubt we’d be able to qualify for adoption if I have to somehow bind everything together, and honestly, I don’t think that would be a good environment for a child anyway.
So. I’m left with a bitter choice that I can’t actually make: my wife, or my life-long dream of a child.
Take the time to inhale your grandfather’s scent – he’s the last grandparent you have and you won’t have him much longer.
Embrace the Puppy Love at age eleven with that boy who you will still think you love.
Try to remember every second of dying Easter eggs with your Mum – when you dye them with your own kids, every year, you will question how she made them so beautiful.
Don’t take your big brothers for granted – they have taken care of you since you were born, and not all teenagers would’ve been so willing to let their baby sister tag along as much as you did.
Embrace your whole childhood – when you get older and watch your nieces suffer, you will realize how very lucky you were.
———-
Dear Pre-Teen Me,
Don’t “dump” your boyfriend five-hundred times. At twenty-eight, you will still regret being such a jerk. Also don’t take him for granted – he was a decent, patient, kind boyfriend for an eleven-year old kid. Take the time to look at each of your boyfriends in a different light; one day you will learn they could’ve been more, but you were too blind to realize it.
Realize that just saying you think you will have big boobs doesn’t mean it will happen.
At least not naturally :-).
————
Dear Teenager Me,
Don’t be such a bitch.
As you get older, you realize that having bitchiness ingrained in you makes it difficult to have friends. People aren’t as accommodating as your teenage friends were.
Don’t let that one man pressure you into something you’re not ready for – sixteen really is too young to make the commitment you made. You will always question that decision.
When you are nineteen and fully disgruntled with life, you will meet a man who will make you realize that life outside of this still exists. He will be there for you, no matter what, for the next ten years (and counting). You did good not pushing him away.
Also, physical abuse is never okay. It gets better – it stops, but you should’ve spoken up when it happened.
Life could’ve been so different for you.
———-
Dear Twenty-Something Me,
DON’T sleep with that man.
Even though neither of you wanted to regret the act, you both will. An affair is never okay – regardless of how “in love” you are, regardless of your reasoning.
It will ruin your friendship for awhile, it will ruin your marriage for awhile (although, not enough to make you strong enough to leave), and it will ruin your soul forever. Even when everyone else has forgiven you, you will not have forgiven yourself.
IT IS NOT WORTH IT.
Please realize that your husband will never change. He will change long enough to keep you around whenever he senses you may be gearing up to leave, but he will not change.
He can’t be someone he’s not, and you can’t either.
Stop trying – just being you is enough for someone, even if it’s not for him.
Your twenties aren’t all bad.
Your two children will be worth it – you will see so much of yourself in your daughter. Know that entire first year of constant crying, up five+ times a night, constant demands to be held does get better. She will not be the angelic infant your son was, but you will see her fighting spirit every second of the way.
Embrace their differences – this will be difficult sometimes, but overall, you are doing a decent job.
————
Dear Current Me,
GROW SOME BALLS AND LEAVE ALREADY.
That man you met at nineteen still feels like he’s The One.
He’s still your support, your encouragement, your confidante, everything that your husband isn’t – and never will be.
Every ounce of your being (his too) screams that you belong together.
Act on it – make it happen.
Don’t keep letting fear hold you back. Don’t waste another ten years without that love. Your excuses aren’t particularly valid, no matter how you package them.
And quite frankly, an innate desire or moral conviction to only get married one time isn’t worth the unhappiness you’re causing yourself.
