WHAT DID YOUR HUSBAND DO FOR A LIVING?
I saw this thread days ago, and was tempted to contribute, but then I thought I’d be torn to shreds so I abstained. I keep getting drawn back here for some reason, and the one thing I’ve noticed while I’ve been lurking is that never once has it been said what FloridaWife’s husband did for a living before becoming a SAHD. (I hesitate to point this out, but oh what the hell, I’m doomed anyway–if you pronounce SAHD it sounds like “sad.”

)
So what did your husband do, FloridaWife? What were/are his dreams and aspirations? Has he failed at any of them? I say this because (deep breath) **I was a husband that didn’t shower regularly for a long time **

. Yes that’s right, me, Nom the Wise (aka Nom with Flies). My wife and I are seperated now. We have an almost 3-year-old son. I was unemployed for about 6 months last year, but our marital troubles began long before unemployment.
The reason I ask this about your husband is that many men get great self-fulfilment by what they do for a living (I’m not saying women don’t, but it’s different for a man). You have continually flat-out dismissed that your husband is depressed. He is. It may not be chronic, it may not need medication, but it’s depression. I was there. Actually, since my wife and I seperated, I’m there again but that’s another issue. At least when I don’t shower now my wife doesn’t have to smell it.
I’m 41, only three years older than you and your husband. I’ve had a troubled professional life. I was once a guitar player, had a band and wanted to be a rock star. I had the odd job or two, but music was my passion. Over the years I got carpul tunnel and so I can’t play at the level where I was anymore. I still miss it. I’ve always been religious, and seriously discerned a vocation to the priesthood in the seminary. While at the University, I began studying writing (I was always a writer but had never studied it). My vocation to priesthood fell apart due to scandals I saw at the seminary but my writing helped get me through, gave me new hope. After seminary, I went to grad school and got an MFA in writing (met my soon-to-be ex-wife) and began getting published a little.
I felt very happy then, and showered just about every single day!
. I still harbored regret and mourning in my heart about my music and my “lost” vocation, but I was getting married and some journals noticed me and I had a chance at something new. I began teaching (something I always wanted to do but didn’t have the education), a year of high school and then 5 years of college. I loved my job! I loved my wife! We got pregnant! I was so happy! **AND CLEAN! **But I taught college as an adjunct. I was barely able to bring enough money in AS A COLLEGE INSTRUCTOR, so when my wife got pregnant I took a *third *job as a security guard. Eventually I quit the college that paid me the least (due to exhaustion), and then became injured on the security job, so I had only one teaching job left. I lost the last teaching job because one of the college administrators had a son in my class, and the son didn’t turn in work but the administrator wanted me to pass him anyway and long story short I didn’t pass him and found myself out of work. On top of this I was submitting my poetry manuscript to presses all around the country, and the thing *still *isn’t published. All the while my wife (through the stress of wondering how we’d support our son, which I shared with her) began hating my art, hating the fact that I wasn’t bringing in enough money despite that I was doing what I loved, and suddenly I lost them all. I was a failed musician, a failed vocation, a failed teacher, slowly but surely becoming a failed husband, and a failed writer/poet. All of my dreams were dying or dead (this is still the case). Oh, and we slowly stopped going to church or having sex.
The only reason I’m providing the narrative is to point out that
not showering everyday is only the tip of the flames, NOT the base of the fire. I felt DEAD inside. The love for my son is the only thing that made me eventually go back to work in security, to bring something home while I applied for other jobs. A man wants to leave his children a Legacy. Maybe not all men, but I certainly do. It might be irrational, but it’s real.
Why hasn’t it ever come up what your husband did? Passive agressive behavior? Maybe. A cry for help? Certainly. He may not be watching porn on that computer, but believe you me, he’s masturbating. It can be a compulsion for a man that feels no pleasure. He may be able to smile and chat with friends but that doesn’t make him not depressed.
I’m truly not trying to shift any pity (or anger) at me, but to provide myself as a concrete illustration. As a last thought, I would ask you to consider where has your husband failed at life? All men fail. All people fail. What was he? What did he always want to be? Has he failed? Different men mourn differently than other men, and you can’t always tell that we are (unless you can smell our armpits from a distance–then you know). Sometimes we don’t even know what it is, or how to explain it.
Okay. Open fire.