I almost lost my cool a few times this evening.

At the end of it I almost blew up and, short of actually saying it, was mouthing out profanities at her. I started to get another anxiety attack.

As I drove us home, I was trying to relax and realized I was repeating myself when I spoke. It was only near the house that I was able to calm down and want to talk it out with her objectively. She wasn’t ready for it but I told her why I wanted to do it and she eventually agreed to.

I asked her to tell me if I did anything wrong. She said nothing. And for the first time that I can remember accepted responsibility for mistakes she made that whittled away at my psyche.

The summary of it was that I couldn’t trust her. Years of her telling me one thing and doing another meant that I don’t just prepare for failure but expect it. I want to work it out and told her that these talks are going to happen more often now and if she can’t handle it or wants out, to let me know.

I also told her why so often I feel like disappearing. It is because while I know it’s not the best solution; it’s not even a full solution, I have little to no reason to stay. As my wife, she should be a strong factor towards why I should stay but at this point it is not.

I suppose I should delight in the little victories, but I still feel the urge to disappear; still feel the urge to pursue a hollow dream but thankfully less now.