Counseling

I met my wife in the waiting room of our therapist's office after being away for four days. She seemed happy to see me: she held my hand and snuggled against me. I was nervous because I'd spent four days recounting to everyone all the fights and troubles we'd had over the past six weeks.

But when our therapist asked me how I was doing, I said I was really angry and the wife moved away from me on the couch. It went downhill from there. I unloaded all my frustration over the past week. I probably sounded exactly like the controlling, brow-beating, intolerant husband my wife has made me out to be. Several times I interrupted both my wife and the counselor when they said things I disagreed with.

Frankly, the counselor is really starting to annoy me. At one point, she couldn't remember what had brought us to therapy six weeks ago. (It was right after the wife informed me, out of the blue, that she was thinking of leaving me.) That would seem a pretty important thing for a competent therapist to remember.

We have another appointment in two weeks, but I'm not optimistic. The wife made an appointment to see the therapist alone next week, but I declined an individual session for myself.