Under/Over

It's like riding a merry-go-round. That's the moshol someone gave me yesterday, and it works so perfectly. The horse goes up and down at regular intervals between a set high and low point. The horse travels on a path, but somehow always ends up back where it started. You feel like you're getting somewhere, but you're really just travelling the same path you've been on the whole time. I feel like that quite a bit.

I'm back to wondering if I should try the medication just for the sake of trying it. Happy pills can only be fun, right? I should take my opportunity to try some rabbinically approved recreational drug use.

Fast

I did go see a psychiatrist, who recommended therapy as far more important than medication, although she didn't rule out medication as something that might be helpful. To me, that pretty much means that I don't need medication: a psychiatrist almost by definition has to recommend medication, so the fact that she was pareve on it seems to me to mean that it's not really something she thinks is all that necessary. Of course, she might have simply been one of those good doctors who listens to a patient's concerns with treatment and tries to accommodate an irrational dislike of medication if it's possible to do so. I'll probably never know.

Anyhow, on her recommendation, I went to see yet another psychologist; this time, a non-frum person. While I don't doubt his qualifications as a therapist, it seemed to me I spent too much time explaining background that I take for granted, and that didn't seem like a good use of therapy time. It might be good for me to go to someone who knows nothing, because then I get to present my feelings and my viewpoints on frum society, but that won't help solve my problem. I don't think I'm psychopathic or antisocial or anything like that; I think I'm a functional person who doesn't quite like the mainstream frum requirements. Thus, it would take someone who understands the mainstream frum world and then can also understand my perspective on it to help me figure out where, why, and how I differ from the crowd. I'm a product of a system - one that failed me, but a successful system in general - and I don't have the koach any more to try to explain that system. Also, on my first visit, I mentioned that I have been down the therapy path a few times already and that for this to be worth anything to me, I need a solid game plan. After the agreed trial sessions, there was still no game plan; there was only the suggestion that a trained ear to provide feedback might be useful. And I agree that it probably would be, but frankly, I can't afford to pay for it. Therapy is costing me almost the equivalent of rent, and my money might be better spent by just renting a second apartment and moving out of the one I currently share. Of course, if I just get a divorce, I could have my own apartment without paying for two.

Rosh Hashana is a time for reflection and renewal. I don't think I did that great of a job davening this year, so I'm trying to make my Aseres Yimai Teshuva count for something. I'm not even sure what I can do that will be properly meaningful, but I'm going to try. There's all the regular "only Pas Yisroel" chumros that we take on for a week, but then there are the more personal things. I was going to take on davening shacharis at home (instead of on the train, which I started doing a couple of weeks ago, up from maybe davening brachos), but I already missed that one this morning. No TV at work? But is TV really worse than reading novels? And am I going to totally give up my novels for the week? Maybe. The no TV kick is already difficult, and it's only the first day. The morning of the first day. Or maybe I'm just hungry.

I can't help but think that my problem is just that I made a mistake, and all these expensive solutions are trying to find a way to deny reality. But then I think about the system that works for so many people, whereby you really can marry just about anyone, and provided you're both good people, you can grow into a workable marriage. Is it just that I didn't give it enough of a chance, so of course it's going to implode? But then what about bashert? If I could make it work with anyone, then why bother trying to find the "right" one?

I find that talking to my mother is generally more helpful than talking to a random shrink; she knows me well and understands how I got to where I am. Also, she has a lot of characteristics in common with me. It was her idea that got me thinking about my sexual inhibitions - she said that people who define themselves by their minds (which I do) often have trouble connecting to their physical sides. This makes sense to me - particularly to connect with both sides within the same relationship. I made my marital choice using my head; it makes sense that it is hard for me to be physically uninhibited within that relationship. I can see myself as a passionate person, even as a person who'd be willing to try all sorts of kinky physical things, but I don't think I could do those things and then wake up next to that person and be the responsible, intelligent adult. I want to be the intelligent adult more than I want to be loose and uninhibited, so I picked a person with whom I can share the mental side of myself - but even more - with whom I don't want to get physical. I don't want to share the other side of myself with him; I'm not attracted to him, and I don't think he would know how to give me pleasure. I don't really know how myself, and I've been female all my life, whereas he has no experience with women whatsoever. Also, I don't think he'd be at all comfortable with anything even slightly deviant from the norm, and I know (because we discussed it in previous incarnations of therapy) that he's incapable of taking a dominant role. And if I have to be the breadwinner, the balancer of the books, the housekeeper, the decision maker, and all those other things, how am I supposed to feel feminine ever if even in bed my husband takes the submissive role? Not that there are any roles in my bed, because that wouldn't be yeshivish.

Futile

I'm losing hope of any chance for a positive resolution. Granted, I've been in this mindset before, and I've somehow bounded upwards, but I'm back to hopeless. Hopeless, and more guilt-ridden. This Shabbos I read in People Speak that semi-famous story about the wife who finally gave up on her dead-end, ne'er-do-well husband, after many years and five children. The husband remarried soon after, and he grew and flourished into a successful and confident man in his second marriage. To paraphase, she says something like, "The whole time I was married, I thought I was trapped by my husband's lack of potential. So how come he improved so greatly when he was free of me, and I didn't improve?" I'm terrified of that becoming me. And yet, I don't see how I can break the situation - I don't think I could be the second wife, under whose care and admiration the young man flourished. The key, according to that story, was that the first wife had high expectations that her husband could never seem to reach, and the second wife was constantly approving and loving and thought every tiny thing he did was amazing. "Did you see how he washed the car? And in only ten minutes? Isn't that amazing?" "Isn't it wonderful how he can row a boat?" I don't think I could say those things and mean them. I'd be feeling sarcastic about thirty seconds into that particular personality-change strategy. And yet I can see that that personality is far more conducive to marriage-building than my own. But I stand on my own two feet, and I think my husband has the potential - and therefore the duty - to do the same.

I'm going to see a psychiatrist this week, mostly because I told my husband's rav that I would do it. I don't really see how it can help the marriage, since I don't see how I can change my attitude to suddenly make me feel attracted to my husband or to suddenly respect him, but I suppose that if they're all right and I am some kind of psychotic, it's probably a good idea for me to find out, whether I stay married or not.

Options

I like to keep my options open.

I've always known it was something of a problem - the inability to choose between chocolate and vanilla makes it uncomfortable to buy ice cream. But I never thought it was a major problem, because on the big things, I make decisions with confidence - I selected my college major and stuck with it, and I've never regretted that choice. Sure, there are plenty of decisions I've second-guessed - not least of which was the decision to get engaged - but there are also plenty of instances of real decisiveness, both spur-of-the-moment and excruciating considered.

In fact, I've sometimes considered keeping my options open a positive trait; for example, I buy the bus ticket that works on both the express AND the local bus, so that I have the flexibility to take whichever comes first. Keeping my options open makes life easier. Although I appreciate - and need! - planning, I understand that flexibility is often more important.

In marriage, however, flexibility is a distinct problem. I've already committed to a course of action, but I wish that my options were still open. Is that because I have trouble with commitment? Or is it that I think this wasn't the right option? It's the same question, over and over: is something wrong with me, or did I just make a mistake? And why can't anyone help me figure that out?

This has been a real shavuah she'chal bo tishah b'av for me: at work and at home, everything went absolutely as wrongly as it could. Deadlines missed, paperworked misfiled, numbers miscalculated. Discovery of cancelled transit service only after paying the fare, not having time to buy bus tickets. Having an emotional collapse, yelling at my husband, being spiteful and angry. It's been really rotten.

I don't know exactly what I did to deserve all this - this year and this week - but I know that I am fervently wishing for the return of prophecy; maybe I can finally get some clarity with Divine answers.

May this be our last tishah b'av spent in mourning.

Vent

The frum view of marriage isn't that marriage is an expression of love and commitment between two people. Marriage is simply and completely the start of a new family. Thus, marriage partners are selected based on their qualities for formation of a family rather than on their qualities as a mate for their partner. It is assumed that hormones will take care of the partner-vetting, and young singles in the yeshivish world are encouraged to think very logically when making their selection of who to date and marry. Sometimes, in fact, they are encouraged to force logic to overcome the hormonal or instinctive responses. Sure, you have fun being with him, but do you want him to be the one to raise your children? Do you want his values to shape your home? And of course, there's enough pressure on "older" singles (anyone over the age of 20) to drive some people into marriage simply not to be single anymore. I can't tell you how many people tell me they're getting married just because they can't stand dating any more. And that's on top of the people who threaten to get married for the same reason.

With family-building as the operative rationale for marriage, personal fulfillment fades to a far second. Of course, personal fulfillment is important for living life, but many experts have assured me that it's okay to find your fulfillment in other venues. The only reason to leave a marriage is to escape pain, not to reopen options for something better. Let's face it - how likely is it that you'll find something better? Once you're divorced, you're tainted goods, and your options the second time around are only other tainted goods. Of course, that might turn out to be a good thing - after all, no one is perfect, and these people's flaws are more visible than other people's. There's something to be said for knowing up front what you're getting.

For me, the issues come down to the same basics that have been there from the beginning: (1) My spouse is clearly not - and probably won't ever be - my best friend. His very presence is more often an annoyance than anything else, although I'm slowly adjusting by teaching myself to care less about his feelings. Wow; what a great foundation for a loving relationship! (2) His plan for his future is not what I want for my future. At least part of that is my shaken religious foundation due to my current situation. This was post-marriage news to me; before I got married, I was sincerely convinced that I did want a kollel-klei kodesh life. I still somewhere deep inside think it would be a good lifestyle, but I'm starting to feel like it conflicts with my plans for myself. (3) I don't like sex. Not with my husband, anyhow, and I have no way of knowing if it would be better with someone else. Even reading the X-rated stuff doesn't really turn me on. I just don't get it. I'm definitely starting to feel like there's something fundamentally wrong with me there.

So why aren't these cut-and-dried reasons to get a divorce? Well, I have no guarantee that I'd find a better match the second time around, and according to the family-building philosophy, my current spouse is ideal. Stellar midos, loves kids, happy to help with housework, doesn't want to interfere with my plans for my own personal development. I don't know that I'd find a guy with all these qualities whom I'd like better; in fact, it's unlikely: I have a feeling that the kind of guy I'd find more attractive would be less of a nice person. More confident, more ambitious, more strong-willed, more dominant. Probably not as a nice. Probably not as low maintenance. Probably less willing to put up with my dislike of sex, presuming the problem is me and not my partner. And the whole lifestyle/kollel issue - I have a feeling that it's not really worth focusing on; the issues are more personal and less ideological.

I'm going to leave this out on the blog for comment, but I've noticed that a lot of the commenting starts with the assumption that I'm anti-frum or anti-yeshivish. Granted, I'm somewhat bitter about the way my life is progressing, but I'm not off the derech just yet. If I was, I probably wouldn't be in this marriage anymore, would I? I wouldn't care. I'm glad to hear what you have to say, and I welcome your sharing your own stories, but please try to keep this from becoming frum-bashing. Thanks in advance.

Focus

I wonder sometimes if too much focus causes the problems it's meant to eliminate. Or at least exacerbates them. All this talk, therapy, analysis, thought - and what does it accomplish? Well, it makes me think about my problems, define them clearly, pinpoint my frustrations. I'm not sure how that's supposed to contribute to the experts' advice to "stop focusing on the negatives; focus on the positives." If you keep asking me what's bothering me and what's wrong with my life, I'm definitely going to be focusing on the negatives.

I'm nowhere near having all my problems magically disappear, but sometimes I feel like their importance is overplayed. Is it really so important to love your spouse, or is it enough to get along with him and learn to respect his better qualities? Is it really so important to enjoy sex, or is it enough to learn to go through the motions? Obviously, one shouldn't live one's whole life in limbo, but maybe it's okay for a while. I know my husband is a good guy and has the important qualities for a husband and father - is it really better for me to throw that away in the hopes of finding a person I'll like better? Is this about me, or about producing the next generation? What is the meaning of my life, anyway? Am I really better off in the long run if my spouse is a better sparring/debating/recreational partner? Do I care if our religious priorities are not quite the same if I know that his are probably better than mine?

It's not as if my issues in this marriage are the only frustrations in my life. My job has become unbelievably annoying. All the nice little details that made being severely underpaid worth it? Gone. My rapport with my boss? Fraying. My enjoyment of my coworkers? Everyone's fuse is shorter than it used to be. Maybe it's the increased workload, or the economic depression, or the much more frightening job market. Maybe it's the swine flu. The world is full of highly annoying and depressing facets that are just one more thing to absorb into life and deal with. Life moves on, no matter how much you wish it wasn't taking the direction that it's taking. Mostly, these things are out of your control, and you somehow figure out how to cope.

So why is it that I think my marriage is different? I am definitely willing to admit that it was hashgacha that got me to the chupah; there's really no other way to explain it. I can't think of any decided actions on my part that brought things to a head - the shidduch took on a life of its own. Getting engaged, married, moving to Lakewood - these are all just new challenges, like my new project at work and my boss's newly short temper. Sometimes I feel like I should just stop trying to solve my problems and get on with life.

Epiphanies

I'm still here. I survived Pesach, and all the togetherness that it entails. I even survived the Chol Hamoed trips, although I learned that there are some things I may not be willing to do ever again, even in the name of shalom bayis. Much too hard on my nerves. I'm learning to be more selfish, and last night, my newest therapist told me that it's not only okay, but important for me to focus on myself more and not push myself too hard. Ah, validation.

I almost didn't go to the new therapist last night. When I first called to make the appointment, I was my (now normal) basket-case self. But over the last weekend, I had the latest in a series of epiphanies that I've been having ever since the full extent of my misery sank in. Every so often, I would suddenly see things in a new way; I'd start to wonder, "Why didn't I ever realize that before?" Of course, once the thrill of discovery wore off - or if I tried to share my epiphany with anyone else - I'd realize that I hadn't actually realized anything new. It was all the same things I'd known all along, but perhaps I was seeing new connections between old facts or new perspectives on old information. It's that magic "Aha!" moment. It's what I keep telling my husband can't be forced. Yes, I know in my brain that you're a wonderful person and perfect in every way (that was sarcasm, fyi - I'd better clarify before you commentors start bashing my lack of reality), but I don't feel that you're perfect for me, and I'm not in love with you. Even if I'd like to make myself love you, I can't. You can't force yourself to feel something. But every so often, something clicks inside of you, and suddenly you do feel - well - different, at least. Something changes inside you. It's probably what falling in love feels like, not that I'll ever know from my own experience. You see, what happened over this weekend was that I realized that it's entirely possible that the reason I couldn't find anything wrong with my husband or relationship - nothing concrete to tell the therapists and rabbis and concerned family members - is because there is nothing to tell. The reason it all looked good on paper is because it is good on paper. But I'm just not the type of person who is going to change my identity all that quickly based on paper. I need to feel certain things to be able to do certain things, and - barring falling in love or other strong narcotics - I'm not going to magically start feeling differently just because some stranger put a ring on my finger. I know it's been a while since that magic moment, and so I should have had time for all the good things to fall into place, but the stress that my marriage has been under pretty much since Day 1 kind of held everything in status quo. Of course, there's now a whole lot of baggage that wasn't there before, but also we've both changed in a lot of ways, so it might be possible to try starting over and this time do everything much, much more slowly, to give things a chance to develop a bit more naturally. It's certainly worth a try. At the worst, I'll still be where I am now, but I'll know myself much better. It's going to be tricky, because I'm not sure I can tell my husband about this epiphany - that might ruin all the development till now, because if I give back hope, he may revert to his old, super-confident, super-clingy, super-optimistic self. But of course, if I don't tell him, then he may give up on the whole thing, and that would certainly also defeat the purpose of trying again.

It's so funny how people -including, sometimes, me - insist on trying to pin problems on external factors. "She wasn't really committed to kollel." True, but I don't have a problem with kollel either. I think it's a wonderful idea, although not for everyone. Is it for me? Maybe. (Terrible answer to give to a shadchan - don't ever, ever say it.) "She should have married an older/ more experienced/ more mature/more ambitious guy." I probably would have had less trouble connecting to and respecting such a person, but I think it would have come with a different set of issues. Put two type A's in a small Lakewood apartment and wait for the fireworks. "She shouldn't live in Lakewood." Okay, no arguments there, but it's not like I have a problem with living in Lakewood, other than the fact that it's the middle of nowhere. And there really aren't all that many good options for where to move.

No, for me, the whole thing is about how I feel about the person I'm irrevocably bound to. If I'm connected to him, I can support whatever lifestyle I have to. Of course I'd rather not have to work, live in a mansion without a mortgage, be free to travel the world, not have to worry about bills. But assuming that I know why I'm doing what I'm doing - assuming I have a goal that I'm happy about - I can accomplish anything.

The best part about my latest epiphany isn't even so much that it put some hope back into my marriage. The best part is that I have regained my confidence in myself. All those people who are telling me that I'm terribly flawed and psychologically disturbed - I know with confidence that they're wrong. Maybe I work differently from most people, and maybe I wasn't sure quite how to express that so that I could help those who are completely different from me relate to me, but there's nothing wrong with me, and I won't let anyone take away that knowledge again.