It was the first night of our honeymoon. He had flung himself on the floor of our hotel room where he lay in a crumpled heap, sobbing so hard he was incoherent. His face was red and contorted. The knot in my stomach tightened. Here we go again, I thought. Nothing I said or did made any difference. He acted as if he couldn’t see or hear me. He began violently punching himself in the head. I tried grabbing his hands to make him stop but he was thrashing around so much I couldn’t get hold of them. He was so out of control I was afraid he would hurt me or himself. I kept wondering if anyone else could hear him and call the police, or if the manager would throw us out.
An hour passed until he laid on the floor completely spent. Once he calmed down enough to be coherent, he started in on me. Why didn’t I want to be alone with him. Why was I a mean wife who didn’t love him. Why was I deliberately hurting him. I kept re-assuring him I loved him and just wanted to be with him. I apologized for hurting him although I had no clue what I did. Only after I had sufficiently apologized, did he tell me how much he loved me. I was flooded with relief. He still loves me! Everything is going to be all right!
A little earlier I had suggested we go to the main dining room to eat dinner. Our honeymoon resort was one of those places where three gourmet meals were included in the cost. It was also the hotel’s custom to seat guests at a table with another couple. We were unaware of this until we arrived. This was the 1980’s and with no internet there was nothing to go on in those days except the hotel brochure that came in the mail. He finally admitted he didn’t want to socialize with strangers or eat in front of them. This is what caused his meltdown. In order to keep the peace, I gave up all those fancy meals in the dining room and we ate at a nearby Burger King every day. We had a certain booth at the back of the restaurant that he liked to sit in. This way no one would see us and try to engage in conversation.
This was supposed to be the happiest time of my life; instead I was constantly apprehensive and on edge. He never asked me what activities I wanted to do and I never suggested anything for fear there would be an argument. I allowed him to make all the decisions because I believed that’s what I was supposed to do. Other than a couple of things that he insisted on doing such as visiting a snake farm, we did do several things that were fun. However, I noticed he didn’t like it when I chatted with other guests by the pool.
These were not the first rumblings of a troubling pattern in our relationship. Things would get smoothed over, he’d be placated for the moment, but nothing was ever resolved. I was already walking on eggshells even before the wedding, afraid I’d end up doing something to ignite his anger.
Once we came back from the honeymoon, I began adjusting to my new normal.
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