Who'd a Thought?

After years of pleading, begging, threatening, and whining, along with a sparkling new insurance plan, my husband finally went to therapy. The therapist recommended medication for help. I had given some of my anti-anxiety medication to him to help with his work-related anxiety. He said it worked so well he finally called our MD for an appointment. So now he's on the same anti-anxiety medication I am, albeit a lower dose, and an anti-depressant.

What a difference.

It's taken a few months to really notice the difference, but he's definitely changing. We went on a short vacation (4 days) recently, and as I hung my head out the window, tongue flapping in the wind like a dog goin' for a ride, I remembered why I married my husband: He drags me out of my hermit-like existence, tendency to stay inside, alone, and pulls me out of my comfort zone. And I had fun, a lot of fun this holiday. And I remembered that we used to have lot's of fun like this when we first met, and that (along with those thighs, my god, and his ass? fuggetabout it altho they're heading toward flab, now), I always had fun and did things that I would never do on my own, or would more importantly, I would (am) be afraid to do on my own.

Also: He cleaned his bathroom. Yes, I know! He asked if I would supervise, so I did, sitting on the toilet. If I tried to help, he told me to stop: it was his mess. So I gave directions. It took two hours. No, I am not kidding--it was that filthy. It took four scrubs and two different kinds of cleaner to get the fucking bathtub clean--the bottom was dark gray. Even the inside of the medicine cabinet was wiped down. Amazing.

He put away his laundry, four baskets of which had been on his side of the bed for months.

He bought me a Christmas gift. OK, I sat in the car while he went in to buy it and he came back out and handed me the bag, but it was something I had really wanted. I don't remember the last time he bought me something that wasn't food or a refrigerator magnet (I collect them when I travel).

He took a bunch of books (five paper grocery bags and one plastic kitchen trash bag) to the car to be taken to the SPCA.

His job is not longer freaking him out.

He complimented me on my cooking, more than once. !!!

I know, right? It's like a different person has moved in with me.

Isn't it funny that once you give up the burden of hope, how things can change for the better? I was thinking of ways for us to live apart, maybe even end our relationship, but he's finally gotten the help he's needed, and the things I've been hammering away at him about are things he's paying attention to.

"Et me fer a 'tater" as one of my favorite book characters would say (Jan Karon's Mitford series).

So now I'm going to wait and watch. We'll see how it goes.