Everybody Cares, Everybody Understands

“How are you feeling today?”

“I have a huge confession and it’s not good,” I said nervously.

“That’s why you’re here, so we can discuss hiccups and help you process it all,” My therapist said warmly.

“I feel better. I mean not completely over it, but is anyone ever really?” I was rambling. She just nodded at me to continue. “I’m fine with my family and my friends, but when I’m home…I know it’s not true, but I can’t get past it. I can’t get past how okay Gabe is with it all. It’s gotten bad. I…I sleep on the couch,” I said utterly embarrassed at my behavior and the state of my marriage.

“Why are you unable to accept the truth that Gabe really isn’t over it either? Do you think you can tell me about that?” She was so even keeled and attentive that sometimes it bothered me.

“I don’t know. I just…I try, but he’ll say something to me and I just react. I don’t think. It’s almost like a steroid rage. He could say I look nice and I’m biting his head off. He’s taken to barely being home and saying as few words to me as possible, which is sometimes good, but sometimes causes me to lose my shit too,” I was so embarrassed I could puke.

This wasn’t like me and I was trying so hard to not be this way. There were many times that I would just walk away so I didn’t say something mean or hurtful. Sometimes it would diffuse a situation and other times Gabe would get mad at me for walking away that it started the fighting. I know he’s hurting too, but his actions seem to show me otherwise.

Gabe’s been in the studio or out with friends just about every night since my incident at Counter with Bob McLynn and all of his friends. I apologized to Bob and everyone else, who were all very sympathetic. I was still grieving at that point and the combination of that and alcohol did not mix well. Gabe also seemed to be in a good mood when he came home, which annoyed me to no end. Why was I the only one suffering?

“Have you conveyed any of this to Gabe? Maybe told him some of the reasons behind your lashing out?”

“I don’t know my reasons. I don’t know who I am any more. I used to be so open and honest and now you can’t get me to talk about anything. I mean I held out on you for the past two months. I think I’ve ruined my marriage,” I cried. “I’m afraid he might leave me before I can get myself together and part of me wants to beat him to the chase,” I was shaking a bit because it was so hard for me to admit all of this out loud.

After the incident I promised Gabe that I would help him, but it didn’t really work that way. I started seeing a therapist in hopes of helping me cope and be in a better place. It was helping for sure and she said I was making progress. The progress though was not in my marriage or at home, but with everyone besides Gabe.

“Why do you think he’s going to leave you?”

“Clearly you’re joking?” I laughed and wiped the tears off of my cheeks.

“No, I’m not joking.” She waited for an answer.

“I’m a total bitch to him. I have not put in any effort to help my marriage in this. They say it tends to make couples closer, but I’ve found that it’s driven a wedge or should I say I’ve driven a wedge between us. I just…I want to get back to a good place with him. I love him. He’s my best friend and I can’t stand to lose any more at this point.”

“Why would you leave him then?”

“Because it’s unfair to him for us to be together…It’s not fair to him. I’ve been so terrible to him and depressed for almost three months now. Who knows when I’ll get better?” I took a tissue from the box on the table next to me and dabbed my eyes. “He deserves so much better. Gabe deserves the world and I’m just acid rain,” I said. I don’t know where that metaphor came from.

“How are you feeling on the medication?”

“It’s only been a month I don’t know how I should feel. I guess I don’t feel much different. Maybe my frustration with it not working faster is part of it.”

“Well, it can take three months for it to take full effect, but you seem to be more open and wanting to fix things and that’s a good sign. Have you and Gabe considered marriage counseling?”

“I don’t even know how to talk to him about it. I think it may be better if I just leave,” I sighed.

“Do you think that’s a bit rash?”

“No. The quicker I leave the better off he’ll be. He can move on…he’s pretty good at that,” I tried to make a joke.

“Well, I want you to try talking to him and keeping yourself in check and talk to him about marriage counseling. It’s very common and I can recommend some people to you, if you’d like,” She was always very polite. I wondered if her notes were all about how I was the craziest client she’s ever had.

“Sure and I’ll try,” I promised her and our time was up.

I had been seeing my therapist for about two months now about two or three times a week after work. We started at three times a week because I was such a huge mess and since I was put on antidepressants about a month ago we’ve dropped to two. I didn’t like to talk about the fact that I was put on antidepressants; it was a bit embarrassing for me. If I were actually myself I would have accepted it and thought, well millions of people go through this and are put on medication – I can get through this. But, I really don’t know who I am or what I’m doing in life. Okay, so maybe that’s not totally true. I am myself at work and outside of my apartment, but at home and with Gabe I’m a completely different person; a person that I cannot keep hidden despite all my best efforts.

I decided to walk as far as I could to cool off and then jump on the subway. I needed to work myself up to the moment or not, as it seemed to be leaning that way in my head. I was just hoping he wasn’t home when I got home so I’d have more time.

When I got home it was around 8pm and Gabe wasn’t home. He was never home before 1am most nights, so it wasn’t surprising, but he had no real pattern. I walked into our bedroom and just looked around and had to think. What was best for him?

“What are you doing?” Meghan asked as she came into my bedroom.

“You scared the shit out of me! How’d you get in?” I asked her as I clutched my heart.

“They know me downstairs and your front door was open. What’s with the suitcases? Summer vacation I didn’t know about?” She said surveying the room. I must have been in such a daze that I just strolled into the apartment without shutting the door.

“I’m leaving,” I said without missing a beat. I kept packing.

“Hold the phone! What?!” She shouted and took the clothes in my hands away from me.

“I’m leaving Gabe,” I took my clothes back from her and she grabbed them again.

“Are you high right now? What’s your deal? What have you been holding out on me?” She threw the clothes behind her and back into the closet.

“I just…It’s not fair to him. I’ve been so terrible to him and depressed for almost three months now. Who knows when I’ll get better? I just…I’m having a hard time. I’m not in a good place,” I sat on the corner of the bed and sighed.

“What did you say to Gabe?” She asked sitting on the floor in front of me.

“I haven’t told him yet…I thought I’d move it all out now and then leave him a note?” I didn’t know what I was doing, but I just knew my good days were being outnumbered by my bad ones.

It’s not like I was totally fine with my friends, family and work, but I was better than at home. I had my days like anyone. There were still times that I would stay in bed all weekend. It was a big transition to be back at work too. I had taken a month off just to get myself more together, but I regularly cried in my office. I just kept getting hung up on the fact that I was letting go. I felt like I was a bad parent or person to just get on with my life. I just was so hung up on that, but I knew it was always going to be with me, I just needed to figure out how to go on.

My mood swings were really like steroid rage episodes. I was not nice to Gabe, but I felt out of body and I was not in control. Lately he’s been spending most nights in the studio or just out and I can count the times he’s come home sober on one hand in the last month and it was all because of me. I just felt like such a huge dark cloud on everyone. I hated that and I didn’t want to be that anymore.

“Oh, that’ll probably go over really well. How old are you? 13?” She said sarcastically.

“I don’t know what to do, Meg. I’m a cyst on my friends and family,” I sighed.

“Give the medication time to kick in. You’ve got depression and that takes some time to get over,” She said sympathetically.

“Who wants the depressed girl either?” I laughed, but I really wanted to cry.

“Shut up! What about marriage counseling?” She offered.

“Gabe hates me anyway. He ignores me a lot and I don’t try. I’m a shitty person, Meg,” I fell back onto the bed and just covered my face.

“I’m going to do some research on the computer. You pack another fucking thing and I’ll cut your fingers off,” She pointed at me as she left my room.

“My therapist suggested that today too. She gave me some names, but I feel like this will hurt less in the long run.”

I followed her out to the living room where she grabbed my computer and started “googling” marriage counselors in Manhattan, which I was sure would be a long list. I sat next to her and put my head on my shoulder.

“Why am I so crazy?” I asked her.

“You just need to know that it’s not a bad thing to move on. When your brother died did you think your parents were terrible people when they got past being sad?” She laid her head on top of mine.

“I was four and he was six. I didn’t really process it then, you know?”

“But, now, are you mad at your parents for getting on with their lives? It’s not saying they ever forgot Jack, but they figured out how to pick themselves up and go on with their lives.”

“No, but I’m trying. I am. I’m just not trying so hard with my marriage, which I don’t even know why? I don’t know why I’m so mad at Gabe,” I said frustrated.

“You’re mad because you wish you could cope like him. He’s not over it like you think, but he’s just done a better job at grieving,” She shrugged and I took my head off her shoulder.

“Why is it so easy with you and yet I can’t talk to Gabe?”

“I don’t know sweetie, maybe because I’ve known you all of your life? We grew up right next to each other and we were like Ben and Felicity and followed each other to college and to the city. We’re inseparable,” She smiled and hugged me tightly.

“Don’t leave me. Don’t let me be an asshole, please,” I let a few tears escape.

“Put your shit away and let me do some work,” Meg stretched and wiggled her fingers and went back to typing.

I went back to my room and kept packing. I would make Gabe decide. I was hurting him and I needed to stop because it was pushing me further from him. Part of me wanted to be away from him, but just so I didn’t hurt him anymore. I had already caused him so much pain by losing the baby and then being a terrible person, he deserved better. My therapist said I was making progress, but at home it didn’t feel that way.

I wanted to shake this. I wanted to be normal again. I wanted to be the wife that Gabe deserved. Gabe deserved someone that would have sex with him and let him get close. I wasn’t doing that.

“Hey Meghan!” I heard Gabe shout as he entered the apartment. My heart raced.

“Gabe, come sit,” Meghan said. I was frozen in our room.

“What’s going on?” He laughed. “Where’s Sadler? You’re welcome anytime for sure, but maybe not when we’re not here,” He teased her.

“She’s in the bedroom being crazy,” Meghan said matter-of-factly.

“That’s my girl, she’s not crazy,” I smiled a little bit. He was defending me, even more reason I wasn’t worthy of him.

“If you knew what she was in there doing you would not think that. That’s why I need to ask you something,” She started.

“What is she doing? Should I be worried? And what’s the question?”

“What she’s doing is not a concern. Are you open to marriage counseling?”

“Meghan, while I love you and appreciate your help, we’ll work it out.”

“Stop being stupid, please. I am here more often than not and I see firsthand how you guys live like brother and sister, okay?”

“Again, while I appreciate your help, my marriage is my business,” Gabe said sternly.

“Gabe, I think we should do it,” I said as I came out of the bedroom.

“If you want to do it, then yes, but I wasn’t about to do it because of Meghan.” He got up off the couch and came to me.

“Sometimes you need someone else to tell you what a fuck up you are. It’s not like I haven’t seen it or like I didn’t know I was doing it, but part of me can’t stop. I just can’t stop feeling like this,” I was so scared, I had really messed things up.

“It’s not like I made an effort either. I’m willing to work on us. I will do this for you, for us,” Gabe took my head between his hands.

“I was ready to leave you today, but Meghan talked some sense into me. I just have felt like such a black cloud,” I was shaking with nervousness.

“You were going to leave me?” He asked in disbelief.

“I just felt so bad. I felt like it was unfair for me to be with you. You deserve so much better. You deserve someone that can actually cope and someone that isn’t such a mess like me. You deserve so much better,” I tried not to cry. I felt like that’s all I do.

“I was fed up too. I stopped talking to you and avoided everything because talking to you just wasn’t working. If you’re wanting to talk, let’s do it.”

“Meg, what’d you get?” I laughed and Gabe and I turned to look at her.

This was the most intimate we had been in over two months. It was hard, but I needed it. I needed to stop being such a basket case and actually make more of an effort.

“Well, there is a guy a couple blocks away from here. He seems to have good reviews,” She said typing and reading from the laptop.

“Get us in, girl,” Gabe snapped his fingers.

Meghan called and set up an appointment for us like she was our assistant. She was so funny. We had an appointment next week. Things were hopefully going to get better. I kept my yearning to fight with Gabe under control. I did it. I was hoping it was a good sign.