Thursday, July 15, 2010

Atmospheric Disturbances ( Scenes From a Marriage )

Today rolled in moody cloud, heavy sky face, thick. Weather that feels like Nashville Tennesse where family lives, not San Diego California in July. Hot as hell peaked and softened into wet and warm, bringing thunder and rain in the late afternoon. Stepping out of air conditioner and into a warm shower, back and forth. Ever is kicking hard as I write, and the thunder is rolling lovely. The sky has the dim bright corners that suggest a veiled threat, the rain is tiptoeing on my roof. The anxiety fluxed as the weather.

Last weekend we had our first marriage therapy appointment and it was good. Afterward, later, I fell apart, full of named and unnamed fears and self doubts and panics. The panics. I sobbed on and off all weekend, in and out of Mr. Curry's arms. And then a stillness inside, an eye of the storm. I am worn and look worn, but I am loved and look loved. I move with Mr. Curry through these things, sometimes as if underwater, but always within fingertip reach of each other: there is the sky and his face, the sudden overcast and rain and his sex, the talk of others and the still meeting of our eyes. There is everything else, and Mr. Curry. This is how he has always made me feel and in eight years of marriage I have only ever lost this during his worst Bipolar struggles. Losing touch with him...like losing his face underwater when we are drowning. Like thinking he is on the bottom of the ocean and I cannot reach him. Every single time I think in wonder and fear to myself This is how the world will be for me if we cannot find our way. The emptiness that is left after you have been understood, connected and loved by someone day in and day out is a grief I hope to wait out until death. I was happy before Mr. Curry. I was strong, and smart, and connected, and loved, and inspired by life- I was alive. And. There is nothing that can replace or negate the profound joy that comes from being a team bound together in love and commitment. There are other things. But they are not this thing.

It is the way when we walk together our bodies find each other and bump. It is in travel and the stark emotional contrast different geographies evoke, and how we are always in sync, experiencing and reflecting and absorbing, always with a backdrop of gratitude to be alive, to be doing. It is in reading side by side. It is in the arguing and the amazing way an argument suddenly disappears in your mouth as you laugh. It is the ugly hateful feelings that can arise from the prodding of the oldest, sourest wounds, and the intimacy that rises with the expression of those wounds, the trust, the connections formed from secrets said and heard. It is the middle of the night and heat. It is the middle of the day and our children around us. It is the washing of dishes. It is the making of dinner. It is the sound of his voice reading to Lola. It is the thump of his body wrestling with the boys. It is the heft of his hand over Ever. It is the kissing, the groping, the making out, the quickies, the romantic notes. It is the total honesty, something we have had always, through mental illness or not. It is the faithfulness of our bodies. It is the fact that we both love Barack Obama. It is the way we both hone in on the character of people quickly. It is the kind of people we both agree are our kind and the fact that that kind has nothing to do with religion, color, race, accent, sexual preferences or political association. It is how no matter where we have gone, how strange or how wonderful, surrounded by filth or beauty, safety is next to each other. No matter what problems or arguments or hurts, we never abandon protecting and loving one anther.

There are the children, their love and smell and voices and needs and struggles, and Mr. Curry. Always he is the constant, the traveling companion, the sanctuary...at times, from myself. When I was half insane with grief after the loss of our 13 week pregnancy and the physical trauma of two blood transfusions and that tiny body sliding out of me, Mr. Curry stayed in that current with me, sheltering me as he grieved himself. What I remember most from the hospital is the loss, and then Mr. Curry- his hand on my arm as I went in and out of consciousness, his voice talking to the nurses, his eyes meeting mine and his body sheltering me from the eyes of nurses and doctors, how he was there for two days, every single time I fell asleep, and every single time I woke.

At the end of the day I cannot wait to tell him everything and to hear his everything. At the end of the night I cannot wait for the ten, twenty minutes we might eek out alone before he falls asleep, to feel his heavy strong fingers in my hair. He rises at 5am and works all day. We meet in the in between spaces of our family life and those spaces are more than enough to cultivate the deepest intimacy I have ever known. To be seen clearly and still loved and wanted...to see clearly and still love, still want- still choose. Thunder rolls and nothing can be better than these atmospheric disturbances with his companionship, our mutual appreciation of Nature and it's glorious Religion we both embrace. To lose yourself in another's heart and body rolling with you as the skies roll over must be what God thought of as passion, as love, when made man and woman. If we both believed in God we would say thank you. I believe in not knowing, and say thank you even more reverently. For every day is a complete mystery and blessing both.
The miserable times must be carved away at-

This is the therapy. The man who sits before us, and we sit on his soft colored couch, looking back and forth between him and ourselves, revealing our gross inadequacies and failures before a perfect stranger we are paying to make us stronger, more loving, more knowing. Here, I am an abuse survivor, at times ridden with anxiety and panic. Here, I come from a deeply troubled home, struggling with Bipolar. For the intellectual non believer, perhaps therapy is a facet of faith. Heal us. Help us heal. Love is not enough but it is essential, and we have it. Help us not to damage this gift beyond repair.

Amen.
SJ said...

I love you Maggie -so very much.

Laura said...

That you love this way...that your love is secure enough,crazy enough,strong enough...this makes me cry with the beauty of it.

michelle said...

Wow Maggie

Brigindo said...

Beautiful post. You capture marriage perfectly...as perfectly as you capture mothering. And it is always a joy to read.

Annie said...

Hi Maggie,
This is another powerful post, that helps reaffirm for me, the beauty of love and commitment. I admire you and Mr. Curry's strength and courage. You are an incredible writer, and this passage is filled with beautiful, rhythmic lines infused with honest emotion and imagery. Good luck with the therapy. Hugs to you and your family. ~ Annie

adrienne said...

you and your mr. curry are miracles, both. xo.

CitricSugar said...

As always, I am staggered by your words. Thank you.

Allegra Smith said...

Nothing in this world or any other could damage love that expresses itself in its own language. You are both the redeemed and the redeemer
and once two parts of a whole finally meet each other, once past the recognition stage, everything else falls, like a gentle rain over a parched field. Go forth, you both have what it takes. Love from here.

Teri said...

you leave me speechless, maggie.

there is sooo much love there in your written words. it moves me!

i can't even begin to understand the complexity of bipolar condition. thank you for sharing your beautiful reflections.

and continue to revel in all that love in your family!

Therese said...

Thank you for the eloquent glimpse into life under your sky. Amazing that it is the same sky as mine. As everyone's.

Elizabeth said...

You are grace - full - you and Mr. Curry.

Simply Mel said...

Maggie May ~ your love melts me. Never, ever give it up.

Mary said...

"If the only prayer you ever say in your whole life is 'thank you,' that would suffice." - Meister Eckhart

I just had to share this quote with you Maggie - as a best described questioning agnostic this is the quote I have on my home page and I believe it with all my heart..

yolanda said...

i love you, maggie!! therapy was sooo good for me!
love is everything....
amen!

starrlife said...

My admiration and respect.

tiffany said...

*sigh... once again you have taken the feelings in your heart and mind and put them down in words so that they might reach us all. Your words, Maggie, never fall on deaf ears as so many of us struggle to find them for ourselves.

Jen said...

Maggie this was wonderful. Having visited for the first time I'm already in love and swept off my feet!

Beautiful picture to my left, I loved it. I look forward to stopping by for more!

Ms. Moon said...

" There are other things. But they are not this thing."
Quick hot tears pricked my eyes when I read this. The sort of tears which only truth evoke.
Yes.

Mama(s) said...

Maggie that is so beautifully honest. I love it. And it speaks to me so strongly. THank you.

Annje said...

perhaps one of the truest, most profoundly beautiful reflections on a marriage

Sarcastic Bastard said...

This is really beautifully written, Maggie. Thank you for sharing it with us.

Blessings to you, Mr. Curry, and your beautiful union.

Love,

SB

K Soucy said...

"love like crazy"....and you do.

T. Clear said...

Stunned, as always, by the power and beauty of your words. Thank-you for this.

Jason, as himself said...

Ugh. Therapy is just like this. Horrible and wonderful and necessary and awful.

Jodi said...

The way you write is like poetry. Often times I'll read your blog and feel like your speaking directly to me. It's as if you know exactly my thoughts. As you stated above, you don't believe in a God, but I do and just want you to know that my thoughts and prayers are with you. Sending lots of love your way. <3

clearness said...

This post is amazing. You have such a way with words that pulls me in very deeply.

Lisa Page Rosenberg said...

Sacred words, like wedding vows.
Beautiful.

Mwa said...

Amen.

Caroline of Salsa Pie said...

"It is in the arguing and the amazing way an argument suddenly disappears in your mouth as you laugh. It is the ugly hateful feelings that can arise from the prodding of the oldest, sourest wounds, and the intimacy that rises with the expression of those wounds, the trust, the connections formed from secrets said and heard."

Wow, Maggie. I love this. Every single word.

Still Life With Coffee said...

love your words.... so much

Maggie May said...

You know how I am saying here, this connection we have, Mr Curry and I, and the sharing and the intimacy-- there are more than shades of this in what I get from blogging, from being part of this community and reading your stories and having mine read. It means the world to me. I love you guys.

tearful dishwasher said...

Maggie-


I have some hard bark on me, but this made me weep. With amazement, with recognition, with gratitude, with appreciation, with a universe of unfathomable thoughts and feelings.


There are few who are so committed to love. To the work of it.


And without full devotion you cannot taste the flavor of it, you cannot share in the limitless blessings of a true union.


God bless you and Mr. Curry, and your beautiful children.


Your love may not be enough to save you, but it will make it all worth it.


You have, and are, and share, something truly amazing.



yrs-


tearful

Middle Child said...

That is such a beautiful post - its what marriage is all about - just awful at times and then just beautiful. My husband and I were together 35 years, 25 of them he was a Quadriplegic - he could only feel my touch around his neck and face...every night until he was killed, i would sleep with my hand jammed under his neckand he would tuck his chin down - I sat with him like that in the hours before he died -
Its worth everything you go through...and its called being alive - two different people acting equally, loving individually and able to have a row every so often.
Thank you for this post

Irish Gumbo said...

Sometimes I believe in not knowing, too...need to work on my saying thank you.

My god...beautiful.

24 Corners said...

Bless your heart Maggie...what a beautiful pouring out of your soul and heart. So jarringly honest and lovingly told...thank you for sharing...stay strong.

Joy and peace (they're not only for Christmas) to you both...xo

Jeanne said...

If you're half as good at touching Mr. Curry as you are at touching us, your marriage will handle this storm.

Kate said...

breathtakingly beautiful.

justmakingourway said...

I know I have said this before, but I love your honesty when talking about marriage and love. The simple truth of how complicated it can be and how much you have to work to keep it together. I'm also a big proponent of marriage counseling. Worked wonders for us.

xoxo

Ida Mae said...

so beautiful

~Ida Mae

Terresa said...

A husband being a sanctuary from ourselves. A beautiful prayer.

You have divinity in your relationship. That you acknowledge it, cherish it, along with all the shit of life, is divine.

廖珮秋廖珮秋 said...

Riches serve a wise man but command a fool.............................................................

Drax said...

Wonderful.

deb said...

stunning.
stunning.

elly said...

You are so very Brave.
xxx

britteny said...

aw, that post was so raw and beautiful.
although i haven't been married, i can relate to much of what you're feeling and saying.

"I am worn and look worn, but I am loved and look loved."

perfect.

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