Mi-freakin-graines

(This is going to be a post about miscarriages and migraines. "This is a blog about marital affairs." you say. Well...there's a link in our case...)

I hate migraines. Despise them. Danielle has suffered with them ever since 2006. I tie them together with her depression. She had her first miscarriage a couple of months after we were wed - and I wasn't there for her. Oh sure, I went to the hospital, made sure she was taken care of physically. To me, miscarriages were no big deal. I was raised around women who were strong, and they miscarried, and they never let it show how much hurt they went through. Or at least, they never let is show to me. 

Which means I never understood the depth of the grief. The depth of the pain. Hurt. Anger. Sorrow.

So when Danielle had physically recovered from the miscarriage, I moved on. I thought everything was fine. I didn't realize she was still going through the grieving process. And she got caught in the Depression phase (denial - anger - bargaining - depression - acceptance).

And then the pain in her head started. I also grew up around women who had headaches. And they would take over-the-counter medicines and move on. So that’s what I expected her to do. Take some medicine, and move on.

Once again, I didn’t join her where she was. I took my preconceived notions, brought them in to our marriage, and didn’t join her.

The pain in her head wasn’t a headache. It was a migraine – once again, I thought this just meant a “really bad headache” – medically, they’re not the same (from what research I have done).

So she’s in the depression phase of the grieving process, she’s in severe pain (this is still 2006), and the person she married and trusted to be right there with her – is lost. Lost in selfishness, confusion, and doubt. Because I wasn’t ready for this – I wasn’t ready, three months in to our marriage, to face this pain. I had no past experiences to liken it to. I had no way of understanding what she was going through.

I’d like to say I got better, and more compassionate, and more understanding. Nope. I did try. I tried understanding it – but I trusted her to go to the doctor and find out what was happening. On her own. Yes, I would take her to the doctor if she had to get a shot and couldn’t drive. Or if she showed me she was scared. Or when it was something major like an MRI – I knew about those. Those were a big deal, and I knew I needed to go to those. For the most part, I figured – she’s in pain, and if she wants it to stop, she’ll go to the doctor and find out what’s happening. She will take care of it. She will handle all of that. I will pay the doctor’s fees. I will take care of the bills. She will take care of her stuff. See what’s happening? I put her burdens on her, didn’t share them, and selfishly focused on my stuff.

I also didn’t realize what jerks doctors were. But that’s a separate post.

I didn’t understand that, for her to go to the doctor, she had to feel ok. And the depression led to stress/anxiety/all kinds of emotions. Those emotions led to her not wanting to get out of bed. Not getting out of bed caused her to feel even more stress and worry. The stress and worry caused her migraines. The migraines caused her to physically not get out of bed. And, now, we have a cycle. A vicious cycle. A cycle of pain and misery and suffering. And who sees it, and gets angry? Me.

Anger because I can’t help. I can’t/won’t join her in this. Anger because the enemy I want to help her fight is invisible. I don’t feel like I can fight something that’s “all in her head.”

Moving forward to 2017 – because a history lesson wasn’t the point of this blog – she still has migraines. She still suffers from depression. And, by this point, I am focused on me. I am focused on my kids. And I am not focused on Danielle. She has hurt me many, many times since being married. Her tongue is like a sword that cuts right through me. She is a master at causing pain. She knows exactly what to say and do to push my buttons – to make me feel two inches tall – and to drive me away.

I became an amazing father to my kids. (“Vanity” you all scream. Keep screaming.)

I became an awful husband to my wife.

Throughout 2016, she had reached out to me. Tried to talk to me. Tried to share how hurt she was. How much hurt I was causing her. I. Never. Listened.

I never listened. Ever. In fact, I can recall one evening last January where I asked her to stop talking one evening. I was focused on work, and she was bothering me. COME ON now!!! I want to go back to that moment, see myself, and scream at myself. (By the way – this didn’t just happen one time. I did this to her a lot over 2017 – I was focused on other tasks, and not on her)

February 2, she tried to commit suicide. Only I didn’t know that – I just knew something was very, very wrong. (This is also a post for another time.)

Just know that she lied really well. Really, really well. And, what little trust I had in her slipped away. And I was hurt. Really, really hurt.

So I pulled away from her even more. We couldn’t be farther apart in our marriage – emotionally, spiritually, mentally – than we were at this point. Or so I thought.

Migraines. Depression. Lies. Deceit. Hurt. Pain. Anger. Sorrow. Heartache.

And so, when he looked at her, and told her he wanted to have sex with her (think I was having sex with her? Not a chance – I was too hurt and beaten up emotionally to have sex), she saw a dark path to walk down. When he texted her and asked her to come over, she knew what he wanted. And she went for it.

She knew she was hurting – but had also been hurt. She knew she wasn’t happy in our marriage – and neither was I. And her selfish drive kicked in.

Then they say it was wrong, and she and he break it off after that one time. But she wanted it to continue. Because, by this time (March) I was barely speaking to her. I would barely look at her.

In April, we tried marriage counseling after some other events. I didn’t know she had started seeing him again. So she wasn’t trying very hard to save the marriage. In fact, I don’t know how fewer craps could be given than sleeping with another man while saying you’re trying to save your marriage.

But I wasn’t putting forth a lot of effort either. I kept looking for the other shoe to fall. Another suicide attempt, or another way of hurting herself. So, the counseling stopped. Her affair deepened, beyond just sex, to true feelings for another man. Her lies – oh my Goodness. Remember when I said she lied really, really well? The depth of this rabbit hole in lies and deceit still hasn’t been found out – and it won’t be. I’m looking forward, because I can’t stay in those months.

The reason I write this blog post is – I need to remember. I need to remember what not to do. Because, even though I am happier than I’ve been in YEARS, and I hope Danielle is as well – she still has stress. She still suffers from depression.

And she still has migraines. Severe, crippling migraines. And, sometimes, the old Jacob comes out. The one who gets angry that we can’t even go out and eat as a family because of her pain. We can’t go to the grocery store. She can’t move from the bed – which means Lexi and Rex don’t get to see her.

And this doesn’t even bother them – they’re used to it. It’s their “normal” to have mommy in bed, sick.I hate migraines.

I need to remember who I was – because I am not that person any more. Never again will she feel like I am not taking care of her. Never again will I leave her alone in her pain – I’ll be right beside her, fighting with and for her. Never again will she feel alone and left out by the very person who pledged to love her unconditionally. I don’t want her to ever feel like she did in those years – that she doesn’t have a husband.

I HATE MIGRAINES. I hate what they have done to us. I hate that they can come out of nowhere and disable us. Completely take us down. I hate them.