Fighting over sleep

Back in the beginning of March, Wife and I had another one of those pointless arguments from the past that goes nowhere but has a life of its own. I have already referenced it briefly here, but I can give a little more information about it. (Fortunately I have already done most of the writing, so this will be largely an exercise in cut-and-paste.)

The issue -- ostensibly -- was about falling asleep. But we never really even got that far. What happened is that I came back into the bedroom late at night, Wife sat up to say something to me, and I got irrational and started shouting. Huh? How does that make any sense? The back story is that for years Wife has told me she can't fall asleep if I am already snoring away, so I have nearly always tried to stay up late until she is sound asleep first. Having her sit up and speak told me, in effect, that I was going to have to stay up even later, and by that time I was already quite tired. What's more, I had a sudden vivid memory of all the times we had fought over sleep in the past, and I suddenly felt like another such fight was bearing down on me like a train, ... and that there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it. So in a certain measure of despair and panic I started shouting, etc., etc.

That's the short version. Of course the conversation between me and D was somewhat more colorful than that.

It started when D phoned Wife and heard all about what an irrational beast I had been the night before. Naturally she asked me right away: ...

Goodness! Did you really tell Wife to sleep in the car if she didn't want to turn off the lights, and punctuate your frustration by saying "fuck you" twice? Hmmm. Please do not curse at me. I would be stunned. I have slept in a car...most recently, on my way to see you in December, but it would be odd to be exiled to the parking lot. Sound like the unpleasantness surrounding lunch trailed you home...

To which I replied ...

Oh dear, it didn't have anything to do with the lights. But I have gotten hypersensitive to issues of falling asleep around Wife (I truly mean sleep here, not sex) because they are so often contentious. So when she started to talk to me as I was preparing to go to sleep, ... when I thought she was long since unconscious (so that I could climb into bed safely without being berated for keeping her up), ... I kind of lost it. Not proud, and no excuses. All I can say is that our sleeping arrangements have been difficult for a very long time. It was literally years after Son 1 was born before I moved off the sofa and back into the bedroom.

We discussed the event at greater length on the phone once or twice, after which I wrote her in elaboration ...

When I talk about the train bearing down on me, what I mean is that there are certain set-piece arguments that we have that always start in a certain way and always take a certain form. And sometimes it feels like, once triggered, they unroll automatically of their own accord, with exactly the same words being said on either side and with nothing that either of us can do to stop them. Of course it can't be literally true, but it feels that way -- and when I feel entrapped by one of those, I panic. That's what I feel over the issue of sleep ... that we are about to enter a script that was written twenty-five years ago, that everything to be said by either of us has been ordained in advance, and that there is no way to stop it. And so I become quite irrational. I know that it is possible to sleep in different rooms without destroying one's marriage or sex life: I did exactly that, for years. In the last stages of pregnancy with Son 1, Wife got to a point where sleep was quite difficult and I moved out onto the couch. What with one thing and another, I stayed there for years. When the boys were both small but walking, they both knew that Daddy slept in the living room and they could always find me there. And at the time I didn't even resent it, or not much. One exception -- at a certain point Wife decided that the old sofa was too broken down and ugly, so she planned to get rid of it (without replacing it). I was a little alarmed that this would mean I had no place to sleep, so that night I came back to sleep in the bed. The next day at work I got a long, long, whiny e-mail about how cruel it was of me to have slept in the bed because she got barely a wink of sleep all night; and all the while I was thinking, "But you are the one who wants to GET RID OF the sofa where I sleep now ... where exactly did you THINK I was going to sleep??? Or did you not even consider the issue because it was out-of-sight, out-of-mind?" OK, this blew over after a while. And when I moved back into the bedroom, it was at Wife's instigation ... her meds had changed, and she thought she could sleep through my snoring now. [As a point of reference, D insists that I don't snore at all.]

But in effect what this means is that for a decade at least, where I slept was not at all up to me; I was moved back and forth between the living room and the bedroom to suit Wife's fancy. And I think what has happened now is that -- belatedly -- I have come to find this galling. I also feel a lot less chivalric towards Wife than I used to. And so where once my attitude was, "For goodness sakes, if you are having trouble sleeping then of course I will move -- it is my job as a husband to absorb inconveniences so that you don't have to," [Yes, I really did say and believe EXACTLY that!] I find myself now feeling instead, "Look this is a fictitious problem (because my girlfriend says I don't snore, but never mind that part); if you can't sleep then EITHER you need to be willing to wait five minutes until I enter a different phase of sleep OR ELSE it is something related to your conditions or medical cocktail that is totally independent of me. Either way, I no longer have the patience to turn backflips over the issue. If you want a 50/50 solution, then don't propose that we alternate nights on the sofa -- offer instead that you will spend 5 years on the sofa first and THEN we can alternate nights." I know as I write this that it sounds like I am being petty and vindictive; but I have just lost patience over the topic.

As usual, D was able to wrap up the discussion by bringing a wider focus: ...

It was very helpful, if rather depressing, to hear more about the sleeping situation in your marriage. I understand the sense of being in the same place, again and again, without making any headway. I tend to react by becoming very silent and depressed rather than profane and loud, but that's just style, not substance. What I've learned over the years with my husband, always the hard way, is there is no changing a person. Even when people vote to hold on to their resentments and irrationalities, to being self-righteous rather than happy, I know now to accept it. The only -- and even that's a difficult job -- person I can change is myself. That's why I don't argue with my husband any more...I know he's already made his decision, and all I can do is accept his choice to live with me as a companion rather than a spouse. I have fought and lost. Looking back, the outcome seems obvious to me. That doesn't make it any less sad, but it also doesn't destroy everything we have shared for thirty years. There's a process here of slow forgiveness -- of myself as well as him, and perhaps I need the forgiveness more. Of course, my situation is fundamentally different from yours because my husband is an admirable and mature human being who has never been unkind or failed to support me. I respect him greatly. I just don't have a marriage or a love relationship with him. I don't ask to sleep with him because we aren't "man and wife" in anything but name, and to pretend otherwise is false. I sleep with the man I have sexual relations with, however infrequent given our circumstances. If what you said about sexuality months ago is true [it was a short summary of my 3-part essay starting here], and it seems right to me, I am living with as much integrity as I can find in a situation more like a mine field than a railroad track. I can't imagine driving you to the same level of despair; our relationship is founded on a very different set of premises and behaviors. Time will tell.