I haven’t written much. In general, I’m having a terrible time which makes writing about my life and my transition feel complicated. To describe the precarious juggle I am barely maintaining between school, work, my relationship, and my own emotional revelations in therapy would be to write my best selling novel. I can’t right now, I don’t have the emotional energy.
I’m writing because I need support. Amongst and contributing to the many things happening in my life, my wife is experiencing more frequent catatonic states as of late. I come home to find her in bed or I spend weekends with her unable to get out of it. This is in part the result of her actually feeling her emotions and working through the exhaustion as someone who feels a lot of them. I joke with others I’m married to a fourteen-year-old to make light of the stress I’m under, but it’s not that funny and trivializes the real pressure of balancing being married to someone who is transitioning with your own emotional health. Katie feeling her feelings is a very good thing, it’s progress beyond numbness and I am grateful (although I’m sure it doesn’t sound it in this post). It just also comes with drawbacks. I’m picking up more of our emotional labor than even I have the energy for. I’ve been putting school on the back-burner, procrastinating assignments to near incapability of completing them in time. I’m tired all the time and need a break but can’t see the point at which one is available.
It is amidst these struggles that we also learned this past weekend Katie’s grandfather was put on Hospice. They don’t tell you when your wife transitions how difficult death will be in the wake of complicated family relationships. Adding this to our plate is about all we can handle. I keep picturing the kitchen sink being left on, hot water rushing out of it at full pressure, but no dishes in the sink. I can’t turn the water off. Is this crying? Or is this numbness?