Morbs,
Take a deeeeeeeep breath. Let's do one more. Deeeeeeeep breath in, slooooooow exhale.
Everything is ok. Seriously. I hope you got some sleep last night.
Try not to let these powerful emotions take over. This is part of that janky ass roller coaster. R-ing is so fucking hard.
There were times I came here with similar despair. And I always received the "well, how do you think your BH feels." In my post about the work, I wasn't kidding about being on two battle fronts. We have our own fight, our own feelings, our own desperations, our own fears. It is traumatizing to us as well. The difference is that it's self-inflicted, and we are witnessing the carnage.
I'm sorry it's rough and the coaster is giving you whiplash.
But let me just introduce your real power in this moment. This is the live action practice I talk about, the kind that starts to rewire your brain and allow for a new knee-jerk reaction.
Your brain is loud right now. It’s telling you stories about punishment, rejection, convenient timing, agendas, litigation, all of it. But none of those stories are actually helping you. They’re just feeding the spiral.
Here’s the part where you get to step into your actual strength. Not the frantic, panicked version of strength that tries to fix everything at once, but the grounded version that knows how to pause, breathe, and choose your next move instead of reacting from fear.
One of the things that I wasn't prepared for was the emotional labor I had to carry for the both of us. It's not forever but, Morbs, you aren't even a year into this. I know it's close and I know it feels like a lifetime has passed. And if I may so gently remind you, you also haven't always been a safe and soft landing place for him. And the ways that you haven't been weren’t always small things. Safety is a priority.
And there is something massive to be said about the timeline coming up right now. Your anti-anniversary is staring you two down, PLUS your upcoming work trip. Morbs, that trip is ground zero. It’s the epicenter of where this happened. To your BH's brain, that calendar isn’t just a list of dates, it’s a countdown to a threat. His body and mind remember exactly what happened during that time and at that place, and it is flashing pure panic. The fear and anger are violently resurfacing right now because he is anticipating the pain all over again, frantically trying to protect himself from an ambush before you even step out the door.
He wanted to be scared and angry.
No, he is, Morbs.
Trauma brain is hard to see from our standpoint. Your BH isn’t reacting to just this moment. The fear is real for him, even if the way he’s expressing it is messy, unfair, or emotionally clumsy. You’re trying to bring something to MC as a team, and he’s interpreting it as a case file. That doesn’t mean you’re doing anything wrong, it means he’s scared and doesn’t know how to regulate that fear. That's where the emotional labor falls on you to be compassionate for this fear, understanding of it, and stand in the fire so he doesn't have to go back in.
I know you need things from him. You want to feel safe so you can bring up concerns without being punished, litigated, or shut down. I remember coming here for advice on how to get that as well.
I found in my situation that whatever my BH's core issues were before my A, my betrayal only exacerbated them.
If they had specific defense mechanisms or control habits before, trauma turns those traits into absolute fortresses. Post A, that baseline mutates into hyper-vigilance. In your case, he is treating counseling like a courtroom because building an ironclad case is the only way he knows how to protect himself from being blindsided again. He punishes and shuts down because, to a trauma-driven brain, vulnerability looks like an ambush.
I want to gently remind you of your timeline again. You've read enough around here to know that your BH has cycled through the grief process numerous times by now. Sometimes they can go back and forth between shock and anger before settling back into denial, only to be thrust back into bargaining and back to anger. It's a wild ride. Yours seems to be doing it silently (as did mine), and that is a hellscape I don't ever want to relive. I feel you here. All I wanted was for him to be an active participant in the repair process.
But I also had to realize that I couldn't expect him to fix his oldest defense mechanisms while he was actively drowning in trauma. I had to be the steady one first, providing the safety net he needed before he could even think about dropping his guard to give me what I needed, what this new M needed. It's exhausting, it's unfair, and it takes time.
Keep breathing. You can handle this stretch of the track. All you can do is continue to show you are safe. Can you talk to your IC for now? When is your next appointment? Maybe bump it up to Monday if you can.