The Pleasant Man
Hiya.
So no big whoop, just was in with a therapist today and talking about my husband. He's in a recovery group and a treatment course for depression. His counsellor has approached him about being a volunteer group leader for the alcohol team. So doing all right with the not drinking.
That's him. I've been seeing a counsellor on my own for a couple of weeks. Today, among other things, counsellor and I were talking about the good parts of my relationship with husband. On the surface one could say it's great when he's not drinking. But...
When he's not drinking he's Always Pleasant. Wiping-his-feet-on-the-doormat-and-apologising-if-he-tracks-in-a-speck-of-dirt pleasant. Never wants anyone to be angry or even displeased with him. Sorry, beg your pardon.
Even when he's struggling with feelings of despair or suicide (as I find out later)...pleasant, pleasant, pleasant.
Until the drink, of course.
And I grew up in a house where the cops were always coming and people were thumping about, throwing and breaking things and screeching like baboons.
So it could be that I've bought in a bit too readily with the Pleasant Man routine--instead of really looking and seeing that all the Pleasantness meant he was in pain, needed reassurance from me, needed me to say that I would accept him no matter what.
Wondering quite how I can say that to him, or if I will. That he can be Un-Pleasant, awkward, grumpy, difficult when he needs to be. I can handle it.
Anyway that's me today.