Tomorrow night we start marital counseling again. We finally settled on a schedule where our pastor comes over to our house in the evening after our kids are in bed. Now that's an accommodating pastor.

My husband isn't happy about the counseling. I guess I can't blame him. I do such a good of putting my emotions into a little box and ignoring them that as far as he knows it's business as usual until someone actually asks me what I'm feeling and won't take "I'm fine, thanks" as a realistic answer. 

In other words, even though I'm not as affectionate with my husband as I once was, it's pretty easy to live with me. I take care of stuff around the house and bring in an income, so if he wants to ignore the fact that we're having problems then it's probably pretty darn easy.

It's in counseling sessions that I start crying and carrying on about how desperate I feel in the marriage. With someone there to mediate our conversation, I feel more comfortable saying how I feel because I know it's not going to turn into the usual frustration fest that serious conversations become when my husband and I try to do this on our own...or, at least, when I approach him about something that has been bothering me and it morphs into me apologizing for being bothered by something.

Yes, tomorrow night should be interesting. We haven't been in marital counseling for months, and after my last debacle with the therapist who apparently had the hots for me, I'm a little reluctant to trust the process. As usual, though, I'm still willing to try again to see if the relationship can be salvaged.

I'm bracing myself. It should be interesting.