So I had an appointment with our marriage counselor, or we had an appointment, really, but I asked Meggie if I could take it solo.  She said no, that she had something she wanted to say and wanted the counselor to see my reaction.  In the hours leading up to this appointment, I felt more dread than when I met with my oncologist to learn that I had cancer.  And I knew already, I just hadn’t gotten the official diagnosis.  So strange was this reaction, especially compared to my reactions to some serious medical issues that could have been life altering if not ending.  Such is the nature of trauma, I guess, or so I’m learning.  Knowing that Meggie had something bottled up and was going to let it all out in a few hours felt so remiscent of her grand mal anger seisures.  Except this was not spontaneous; it was going to happen at 11:00 a.m.  It was a long few hours.

As it turns out, Meggie was just angry (very angry) at the number of times I’ve left her.  She went on to blame my relationship with my mother for my trauma and to blame my shrink for planting that seed in my head.  To top if off, she said, “I am an angry person.”

Well, for now, I’m okay with living with Meggie.  Tomorrow?  We’ll see…