After this incident in October, I embarked on a roller coaster ride that I could not end – and I get motion sickness VERY easily! Even with the stresses at work and from family health issues, we tried to connect and managed to make love more often. He was alternately loving and angry, but I never knew the cause of either emotion. He made an effort to be interested in my activities, expressed a desire to spend more time with me, would commit to be involved, and then abruptly and angrily bale at the last-minute. Just when life would seem level, I would find myself upside down because his feelings and actions were so erratic.
The ride became even more disorienting as stress seemed to take him to some sort of weird religious place. He read from the Bible every night, and bought and read Christian marital advice books. He then started quoting the Bible at random intervals. At one point, he asked me how I would feel if he became a minister. I replied that I guessed I would be a minister’s wife. He also came close enough to witnessing to Emily that she thought she was going to have to yell at him. This did not feel like a “spiritual” journey, it just seemed like weird fundamentalist gobbledygook since he did not appear to be any more at peace, and his study did not affect or improve his behavior.
He made more of an effort to spend time with me and to reconnect, but he would have had to change his schedule for this be a reality, and it did not change. He still left for work early and came home late, and he was out of town a lot making presentations for Archaeology Month through October and into November. It was really a month of ups and downs, since he would be particularly loving and sweet and then distant or angry for no apparent reason.
By our birthdays in November, the reconnection appeared to be going down the drain. He was grumpy again, snapped at me regularly, and I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him. E was sick again, and although she knew that there was tension between us, she didn’t care. She was sick and needed to be taken care of…. The proverbial last straw was the weekend of our birthdays. We had plans to go to the ballet Saturday evening with friends, and he had been given every opportunity to back out while they could have found someone else to go with them, but had insisted that he wanted to go. He also had committed to do a booth at a nearby history festival during the day on both Friday and Saturday. On Saturday morning before he left, he threw a fit about being committed to something he didn’t have time for, that he didn’t want to go to the ballet. Result – a big argument. I finally told him that I was starting to feel like he had not told me the whole truth – that he had actually cheated on me. He left, but was not gone long. He came back and said that he had to tell me the truth, that he was being torn apart because he was keeping things from me.