It has happened to me. After I had been married for a decade or something happened, and we stopped “connecting,” whatever that is. For me, I experienced it as a distancing that made me question whether I was truly loved, or whether the love was somehow conditional.
I loved her before that, and I loved her during that time, and I still love her. I can’t really imagine ever being the live-in lover of anyone else. It seems pointless.
Yet, there was a distance between us that made me question things. Did she really love me? If so, why were things so hard? Why weren’t we making love more than a few times a year? Where did this come from?
It was extremely painful, and in response to that and in response to a few other things, I literally went crazy. Got mentally ill.
As I have worked on getting better, I’ve also been working on my relationship and somehow we have managed to stay together. Our therapist says that’s actually pretty unusual. But we really love each other. She loves me enough to be willing to work through infidelity, and I love her enough to work on it just as diligently. I also, odd as it may sound, love her enough to be willing to work on myself, to try to get back to mental health. It would have been so easy, at times, to let go… let go of her, of the kids, of my home, my job and, eventually, I thought, my life.
All that was about loneliness. Not feeling like your lover is connecting with you, and you can no longer share who you really are with her. That’s loneliness. It’s worse than being uncoupled and being lonely because you are supposed to be connected because you are in love and yet, somehow, there is a disconnection.
@zen_ On the suckitude scale, it’s pretty much off the charts. Sometimes it hard to distinguish from a very deep depression. At least, for me, the two go hand in hand. If there’s no one who loves me, I really feel like my life is totally pointless. But that’s my struggle.
Ok, you numbskull—you’ve gone and made me all verklempt and sad. See what you done? ;-) This is deep shit.