Don't Take That Tone With Me, Mister!

The following entry will consist of a bunch of marital issue venting, so feel free to leave now. I won't be offended. I may even recommend it.

So..my husband is no great communicator. In fact, my husband is no communicator at all. When he decides to bless me with his opinion on the state of our relationship (which is quickly declining) it is usually in some language foreign to me that is based on fragmented thoughts and even more fragmented sentence structure. I am a communicator. I feel the need to articulate my thoughts/feelings (in complete sentences) and follow-up with intelligent discussion to the point of collective understanding. I had a conversation with my husband last night that just drove me to the edge. It was that conversation you have after days of silence, save the occasional conversation about weather or dirty diapers. If you're still reading at this point, it went something like this:

Me: Honey, we've got to get some things worked out. I can't stand this silence stuff. I'm starting to get resentful and I don't want that. I don't want to be in bed with my husband and not want to be there. I don't want to cringe when you brush by me in the hallway. Things are obviously tense between us. I'm upset because I have a lot of things on my mind about our marriage and I can't get resolution. I need for you to talk to me about it. I mean really talk to me. Don't sit there staring at the floor, twirling your hair while I talk. The one thing that drives me crazy is the silence and what appears to be your lack of respect for my thoughts by not acknowledging that I'm speaking to you. I think we've just come to a place where we are both placing way too much emphasis on what is the other person's responsibility to this relationship and not enough emphasis on what are our own respective responsibilities. (Fade to five minutes later where husband is still staring at the floor and twirling hair and I am still talking except for the occasional pause to allow for his interjection.) Do you agree or disagree with any of this? ......................................(2 minute silence while I watch him, eagerly awaiting response)

Me: Hello?
(30 more seconds)
Him: What do you want me to say, Holly?

Me: I want you to say something of your own volition. I don't want to tell you what to think and say. I want you verbalize whatever it is that has gone through your head in the last 8 minutes that you've sat there twirling your hair.

Him: It doesn't matter what I say. You'll just tell me what I think and if I say something it will be wrong or in the wrong tone.

Me: It DOES matter. And I only tell you what I "assume" you are thinking because you refuse to TELL me what you think. By all means, set me straight. Or...quit asking me what I want you to say. And as far as the tone thing, I'm not having that conversation. You know when you are using a condescending tone with a condescending comment. We've been over this.
(The "tone" issue refers to the fact that when he does choose to communicate, it's usually in a very hateful manner. And when I am offended by that, it's followed with an explanation of how he can't hear himself talk most of the time and doesn't know what kind of tone he has. His hearing is fine, by the way. He just says he sometimes thinks he's talking loud enough and he's not. He sometimes talks too loud when he thinks it's normal. He sometimes sounds condescending when he thinks he's being completely conversational. His explanations...not mine. I don't buy it. He doesn't have this problem with anyone but me.)

Him: See...there you go. I try to communicate with you and you are "implying" that I am wrong about the "tone" thing. You don't want to have that conversation again because you've already decided that what I think about my tone is not right and that's the end of the story.

Me: I think the toilet in the girls bathroom was trying to back up earlier. Can you take care of that?

Oh..and there was something in there where I said, "I'm really unhappy right now and I can't imagine that you're happy with all of my bitching about being unhappy. Are you happy?" To which he replied, "I thought I was happy. I mean, I'm happy when you hug me sometimes."

I went to bed. I can't take it. I mean, if he doesn't want to make me happy via verbal communication then he can keep me happy with a steady stream of flowers, dinners, seduction and the occasional diaper duty. It's not a tough trade-off. I am getting totally stressed about the whole thing. I'm not one of those people that can just push down emotion. I've tried and it usually leads to depression and extreme alcoholic consumption on a nightly basis. Not a good combination for a stay-at-home soccer mom sporting full-time student status. So..ok..I vented.

Let's see if I can think of anything a little less heavy to end this post. Hmmm..ok..45 days until the lakeside retreat. That makes me happy.