Three’s A Crowd
My husband and I have been married for six years. We have two kids and I’m pregnant with a third. My husband works from 9-5, comes home, does his chores, plays with our two kids, talks to me for a little bit, and then goes to sleep. But he doesn’t seem to enjoy doing any of it.
Like this whole thing is one big chore. It’s like he’s turned into a robot. He used to be this goofy guy who smiled and told jokes all the time, but I haven’t seen the man smile in months. It’s not like he’s neglecting his duties as a husband and father, but he acts like it’s just that, duties.
Like hanging with the kids and me is a second job. I’m grateful for all he’s doing, and he makes all of our lives sooo much easier, but it’s like he’s constantly on the clock and I think he might be depressed.
I tried asking him if he was doing ok and he tells me he’s doing “fantastic,” but I know he’s not. That’s the line he uses at work when customers try to make small talk and ask how he’s doing. He doesn’t take any time for himself. He doesn’t take any breaks; he stopped playing games and stopped watching TV.
He just does what I feel he thinks needs to be done and I don’t know how to help him out. Our bedroom life has become one sided. We do it frequently, but only because I initiate frequently. Even if he doesn’t seem in the mood, he’ll do it. Like it’s his responsibility to “make me happy.”
It feels like he isn’t there in the moment, like his mind is wandering the whole time we’re intimate and that, to me, feels worse than getting rejected. I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t know how to help because he won’t let me in.
To anybody else he seems fine, but I know something is wrong and I don’t know how to fix this. I miss my husband, the guy who complained and told jokes. Not this robotic shell that looks like him. It’s clear to me now that my husband is overworked and “burnt out.”
So tonight, my husband came home at around 6 o’clock, and after he had something to eat I took him to the bedroom to talk. It was a revelation. I sat him down on the bed and told him I was worried about him. When I finished my piece he starting crying, like full-on crying.
In all the years that I have known this man, I had never seen a tear roll down his eye. I held him for a few minutes until he could recompose himself, and he told me everything. He told me that the world was in a bad place right now, and that we’re bringing a child into a stressful time.
He said when I became pregnant, he felt he had to step up. He needed to take care of things because it was his responsibility. He said that the weight of carrying the family was so much harder than he anticipated so he thought if he “doubled down” he could get through it.
But the more he tried, the “darker the tunnel got” and eventually he couldn’t see an end. He said that he feels like he’s “constantly drowning, and the only breath of fresh air is on the car ride between home and work.” But that wasn’t all.
He said that sometimes the stress is so much that he throws up, but doesn’t tell anyone and instead keeps going with his day. He then pulled out a pack of gum from his pocket and said, “this was for when it happens.”
I asked him why he couldn’t tell me any of this, and he said he didn’t want to “burden me with the truth.” He said that he thought if he told me everything, that I would stop seeing him as a “protector and provider,” and that I would inevitably stop loving him.
Hearing him say that brought tears to my eyes. I didn’t know where he got the notion I would feel that way. I asked him if he wanted to quit his job, but surprisingly he said the job doesn’t bother him.
He said the work in and of itself was fine. It’s just now he feels an added weight to provide. He said that some days he feels like packing a suitcase and running to some tropical island for a week and not telling anyone. But then he feels guilty and doubles down even more.
I told him that maybe he should go on a trip. I said that he deserved a break, and maybe if he did exactly that, he’d feel better. He tried to protest, but I insisted. In the end, he said that he’ll only go if we go together. Like a romantic getaway between spouses.
Before the baby is due, he wants to take a week off from work, drop the kids off at Grandma’s house, and have us go on a vacation. Just the two of us, like we used to when we first got married. He also said he wants to take the day off tomorrow and just sleep in, so that’s the plan.
I’ll call his boss tomorrow and say that he’s sick and can’t come in. Right now, he’s playing with the kids and it doesn’t feel like he’s doing one of his chores. He actually seems to be enjoying himself.
For the first time in months I don’t see the robot, I see my husband. Story credit: Reddit / (throwRA-193837472772)