Obsession, attention, space

How much time can you think about a person? I think about Noah all the time. I think about what he wants. I think about what he likes. I do things to accommodate his preferences all day and all night. Noah is the center of my world.

But I’m not the sex crazed maniac with him any more and that’s hurting him. I seem to be mostly drawn to having that reaction to people early on and it fades. I’m not spending a lot of time lusting after my lovers. I’m not spending much time thinking about sex. I’m working. I’m tired. I hurt.

I feel like I have allowed myself to get into a place where I have agreed to a workload where I am literally too tired to be a sexy person. I’m not blaming Noah for this any more than I’m blaming Noah for me evicting myself from having space. I’m stupid about how I manage things.

It was easier to obsess about Noah and be excited when I saw him when he wasn’t in the house 24/7. It was easier to think about him and plan for him. He’s been home for about a year now. It’s hard. I don’t have any space from him any more. I am with him all the time which means that I just can’t sustain a lot of energy to give him. I’m so tired. This is hurting him a lot and I don’t know how to change it.

I’m really struggling with the comics and the video games. I have grudgingly adapted to reading a few comics over the years so that I can have something to talk about with the people in my house. I am inundated with the action of people playing video games or talking about video games approximately 900% more than I want to be. I feel irritated. It would be like if Noah moved into a house with people obsessed with sports who never shut the fuck up about it. He wouldn’t like that at all.

I don’t like video games and I never get away from them. I haven’t in over a decade. Even though I don’t like them and being around them (and the constant conversation) is irritating as shit. Fine, yes, there are a few video games I have played. I don’t even kill zombies anymore because my hands hurt, the iPad is broken, and I’m so sick of video game conversation I’m not interested in fixing the iPad so I can play it again.

At this point in time I am pushing back hard to get space for people in my life who don’t live in this house. People who will talk to me about other things.

I feel like an asshole because I don’t want to shame Noah or the kids for liking video games any more than I want to shame people for liking golf. It’s just not my thing. But I hear it every day. I’ve heard it every day for years and years and years and years and years.

It’s alienating. It’s not fair of me to be so pissy about it. No one is trying to be bothersome to me. They try hard to be tactful and not have that be their ENTIRE conversation. But my kids wish that approximately 70% of their time was spent discussing comics and video games. I’m not saying it is even mostly Noah at this point.

It is that I spend all my life feeling like I’m supposed to be excited and affectionate while people talk about stuff that make me want to rip my hair out.

I spend so much time feeling like I am defending my right to not be interested with a machete. I don’t have to be interested in everything you are interested in. No one in this house is ever going to care about most of the things I care about. I don’t make y’all listen to hours of conversation about things you don’t care about every day.

But I should work. And smile. And be encouraging when people talk excitedly about what they are interested. And I should shut up about the things I’m interested in because it is a distraction from the focus of the house.

Noah wants me to focus more on him. I feel like it means I either need to get it up for sex I’m not physically up for or I have to get into video games.

It’s not fair. Noah has been awesome about dancing lately. Noah has read one or two books from my childhood so he can understand some of my thinking better. What am I bitching about?

I feel stepped on all the time. I feel like an entitled bitch.

I feel like I am supposed to get better at dissociating so I don’t even hear the conversation about video games. I’m supposed to spend that time somehow getting my body interested in sex for later.


I understand that video games have value. I get that some of them have neat stories. I get that there are interesting game mechanics and art and music and…

I don’t care.

I could point out how much work goes into professional sports, too. I don’t care.

I’m not saying that what I’m interested in is better. I’m saying it is what I’m interested in.

I feel like there are limits to the value of enmeshment in my marriage. I like Noah more when I’m not forced to be part of everything I don’t like. But then I’m abandoning him and not caring about him and not paying attention to him and that’s wrong. I’m supposed to be there. Adoring. Smiling. Telling him how clever and wonderful he is.

He is clever. He is wonderful. I do smile at him. But I’m tired and cranky and I’m ready to break things when I hear about video games.

I don’t know what to do to create space for Noah and the kids where their interests are fine but I don’t have to hear about it.

Because guess what? I don’t want to hear about the video games. But telling them they can’t ever talk about what they like is an asshole thing to do. I’ve never done it and I don’t think I will. Clearly Noah avoids the topic sometimes when I’m super turbo cranky to start with. He will wave off the kids sometimes “This isn’t a good time.” Then I feel like a really bad person because I don’t let them have fun.

Our life, as it stands, isn’t sustainable in the way Noah wants it to be. I’m too tired. So much of my life requires pouring out energy in the form of work or self control. I am not a nice person. But I don’t call people names much anymore. I don’t hit people. I don’t tell people all the mean as shit things I think and see. I have made progress on controlling what an asshole I am. But I’m still an asshole.

Since I was a little kid I carved out space for myself by wandering from my “home” and finding sex. Doing so last year is going to have aftershocks that last for years. I hurt Noah so much. And I’m not really making it up to him. I’m still working and exhausted and cranky as fuck.

And I feel really scared about the fact that he’s this upset about not being centered… and he wants me to have another baby. Guess what I don’t do for years when I have a new baby. I don’t center Noah. The baby comes first. Noah starts being more important around 18 months of age. He gets really sad and withdrawn.

I don’t blame Noah for being sad and withdrawn. He’s allowed. He’s permitted all the feelings that exist. He wanted to grow up and be the center of an intense love story forever. And I’m bad at keeping focus on him the way he keeps focus on me.

I’ll point out that his body isn’t on the roller coaster ride from hell. He isn’t managing the same variables. But I’m supposed to be the same kind of consistent as I morph into a host animal. I can’t.

I feel like my marriage is a long series of me failing my husband because I just don’t have enough to give.

I’m supposed to care about Noah, and our kids, and our house in that order. Other people and interests are supposed to come later.

As I live in a world that tells me that people who live like that are completely worthless. Ok, I have great value for Noah if I do that. Complicated.

It’s frustrating that I do have interest in sex with Noah, but never at the times that work out. Not when it is convenient for him. It’s at times when it is impossible and then when it is possible I’m exhausted. It sucks. I haven’t run out of desire. I have run out of timing.

The funny thing is: a family bedroom isn’t really going to cut into it that much. When I want sex it is rarely sleeping time anyway.

And we have a bed in the garage. Where the sound is noticeably dampened so I feel less creepy. With a lock on the door.

I want more sex. I want more bdsm. I don’t know how to arrange it.

I have felt like an asshole for over a decade now because I struggle to be in the same place as Noah with bdsm. It isn’t that he’s wrong. It is that either I have to talk him through doing what I want or I have to accept something I don’t necessarily want that much. I don’t know why I have had a hard time being in the same place as him but I do. I have since the beginning. Even when things are at their absolute best this is still a struggle.

We do more generic sex really well together. That’s easy to get in the same head space. Noah hurting me is complicated. It’s always too much or too little. I’m always frustrated. It’s not fair of me.

I get through my life by programming sets of rules for different roles I fulfill. And right now… I have no space in my life where I’m not in a role. It’s exhausting.

I am a bad adoring wife. I have been bad for a while now.

I’m grateful Noah is encouraging me to come exercise with him more. We have always bonded well while moving together. He initially caught my interest because he was willing to be a consistent gym buddy when other people wouldn’t.

I’m not saying I would like Noah more if he gave up video games and only cared about what I care about. I’m really not. I don’t think that would be positive or healthy. Noah needs space for his brain to unwind and video games are his thing. I don’t want to take that away.

But how can there be space between us so that we can have separate interests without choking one another on it? Can there still be enmeshment if I don’t have to hear about video games every day? I hope so.

I’ve been thinking about Noah’s various suggestions for how to carve space for me in the house. I’m cranky as fuck about doing the work… I really don’t want to… but I think it probably would be smart. I need space where I can do my thing without having to stomp away into more common area where I feel like I’m not allowed to set boundaries about conversation. I don’t want to tell the people in my house they can’t talk about their shared obsessive interests. That’s shitty. The kids and Noah get a lot out of bonding together over stuff. I don’t want to fuck that up. It’s a really important thing for the three of them.

I would encourage my kids to play team sports if they had inclination. Doesn’t mean I would enjoy hearing about it.

I’m absolutely convinced that Noah underestimates how much time and energy I spend thinking about him and trying to be a good partner. This is kind of the crux of my life. I can pour energy out and still suck. I’m sorry. I know I am pathetic. I wish I were better at showing you how much I like you.

Lately Noah has been sitting outside with me more. I really like it. I have worked so hard on making a pretty yard. I like enjoying it. I like all the colors and variety of flowers and plants. I like that the kids feel like they live in a jungle.

Noah has been going to dance classes with me and I’m having a lot of fun. It’s really nice. But I come home and pass out. (Or I stay up fussing and angsting and I don’t want to wreck his sleep) So I don’t think Noah feels as appreciated for it as he would like. It isn’t turning into lots of sex for him and that’s hard.

I don’t feel like a lot of the early sex we had was “bonding” per se. It was sex I like to have. A lot of the sex I have really isn’t about bonding. At this point we are so bonded you’d need a crowbar to separate us and that makes sense different, hard.

There isn’t really room for longing for it. There isn’t room in my life to want connection. I have so much connection it is choking me.

I am talking to more of my people who are far away. I’m on the phone a lot lately. Folks in Kentucky, New Hampshire, Scotland, New York, I’m going to Alaska…

I think this trip to Alaska might be the last trip of my cat’s life. She needs so much medication and attention. I would have to pay someone with a lot of cat experience and my super awesome babysitter is leaving the state. I’d trust her to medicate my cat. Her family has fostered for years and she takes responsible to a whole new level. I need to chill the fuck out for Puff.

She’s worth it. 19 years of companionship and love.

If I talk to people on the phone then Noah doesn’t fear that I’m more interested in them than him. None of these are friends I bang much (or at all) and that’s a conscious choice right now. It seems… wise.

I am still talking to my lovers occasionally. They are important people in my story. But they are less dominant in my life at the moment. I have so many subtle variations of seasons. I love these people a lot. Looks like Deity landed the cool job in Ohio. I’m really happy for him. I hope he manages to find the two wives he’d like to have.

I’m here. Being Noah’s wife. I like being Noah’s wife. I like Noah. Not because he sometimes doesn’t talk about video games. Because he is kind, thoughtful, generous, loving, attentive, wicked smart, he has the perfect cock, and I genuinely believe that he is going to stick around and be my family forever if I let him.

I think our enmeshment would be well served by some separation. Not tons. But some. Some space for me.

I need to feel like I’m chasing people to some degree. My beloved Noah isn’t a creature I must chase. Instead he pursues me a la Pepe le Pew. How can I chase him if he is always in pursuit?

Today I’m not out of hope. It’s day two of my cycle. That’s often a good day.

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