Boy does life get complicated. This last month’s been all about “big boy stuff,” as Bubbey terms it. Over the last several weeks, he and I had gotten into some really bad fights: same old shit but I guess the drama finally reached a tipping point. We’re in couples counseling now. Say what? I know, right? And I mention it here publicly, because I’m not ashamed to admit we’re seeing a therapist. Fortunately, we’re not to the point of divorce court (yet!) or anything that dire, but apparently we both have “anger management issues.” Yeah, when the therapist gave her initial assessment, I immediately questioned her competency. And actually, John and I both docked off points. I mean hello, was she even listening to us? Anger management is not an issue… there’s no physical violence in the house.

To her credit, she explained, “Anger management isn’t just rage: it’s frustration, impatience, resentment, irritation, annoyance, giving the silent treatment…” Oh, well in that case, hell yeah, we have anger management issues! In fact, I’ve had it my whole damn life then!

So we started seeing Linda three weeks ago… we meet once a week, and then afterwards we have a “date night.” And let me tell you, apparently everyone else is already in on the secret about “date night.” Wtf? Yeah, a friend mentioned having hers on Wednesdays and then two coworkers said they did it too… I suppose we totally missed the boat on that one… Turns out, date night is kinda helpful, because it forces us to connect in a new environment (the therapist suggested trying new restaurants) free from the distractions of home.

During our last counseling session, Linda gave us this anger questionnaire about how our parents handled anger when we were growing up. When I told her I got spanked a lot, she had this child services look of horror on her face. I mean, in retrospect, I totally deserved it. I was a stubborn-ass, unapologetic brat and most times I opted for the belt rather than an apology for my stinging words. Spanking is old school, but I think it’s fine. Then again, I guess it’s a moot point: barren womb forever. So whatever, therapy is working out ok. I’m learning new tools. Guess we’ll be master communicators after this.