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So They Want Me To Go To Rehab…


Hanson arrived home from work late, and he came into the house through the front door as usual. He slowly pulled the door to a close. It shut quietly behind him with an almost imperceptible click. He did not lock the deadbolt, which was odd, as he always remembered to lock it when he came in, and he always-reminded Stacey to do the same.

Stacey stood waiting in the living room to greet him just as she did every day. Hanson and Stacey both made a habit of greeting one another each evening when he walked in the door. They both knew that this was important to the health of their relationship, and they received one another eagerly and attentively, each day without fail.

When they had gone through marriage counseling in the past, the therapist suggested that they make an agreement to practice greeting one another in such as manner.

Stacey was the one who had insisted that both attend therapy for the problem with their marriage. Obstinately set against it, Hanson first refused the idea; but when the problem got worse, Stacey eventually insisted that Hanson make a choice.

She told Hanson that they could go through counseling, work their problems out, and get their marriage back. Alternatively Hanson could choose not to go to marriage counseling with her, and they would just deal with the problem by accepting things as they were—which in other words meant that Stacey would leave him if he did not go through counseling, because she would be damned if she was going to live that way any longer.

Psychotherapy turned out to be a lot of work and they both went through the emotional ringer in the process. When they finished the sessions however, they both were grateful that they had gone to seek help. Hanson would be the first to admit this fact. He had changed for the better in the process.

That was two years ago and things between them were far better now, the past two years had been like when they first got married, they were happy all over again.

However, this present evening, when Hanson came in late from work and silently closed the door, he walked in the house without looking his wife in the eyes. Stacey’s face began to beam with a huge smile at her husband’s arrival, but suddenly the smile fell from her face when she noticed his averted eyes. They focused inwardly, were dark and brooding, and he appeared deeply absorbed in his thoughts. It took Stacey off guard when she saw that Hanson’s face was red and saw his nostrils flaring as he inhaled heavily.

Stacey did not speak; she just stood still and watched him worrisomely, trying to gain some sense of his mood. When Hanson walked past her without saying a word, Stacey was immediately aware that something was very wrong.

Stacey’s mind quickly rewound the memory of Hanson coming home from work the evening before this one, and she quickly reviewed everything that had happened then.

Yesterday, Hanson came home from work on time, and when he came in the front door, he found Stacey standing in the living room as always. But things had been very different.

Hanson came in and pulled the door closed behind him hurriedly, slamming it with a bang. He immediately looked his wife straight into the eyes. He also remembered to lock the deadbolt, but did so abnormally, without turning back to look at it.

Hanson advanced towards Stacey who absorbed his intense stare but did not speak a word. As Hanson walked towards her, his steps were forceful, deliberate. He just kept walking, never stopping, as if he was a wind-up toy, too tightly wound. He walked right past the side table without placing his briefcase on it. As he walked on towards his wife, he simply swung his arm to the side and let loose of the brief case handle. It went flying in an arc and Stacey jumped, startled when the briefcase hit the floor with a crash. Continue reading

They Wanted Me To Go To Rehab…


Hanson arrived home from work late, and he came into the house through the front door as usual. He slowly pulled the door to a close. It shut quietly behind him with an almost imperceptible click. He did not lock the deadbolt, which was odd, as he always remembered to lock it when he came in, and he always-reminded Stacey to do the same.

Stacey stood waiting in the living room to greet him just as she did every day. Hanson and Stacey both made a habit of greeting one another each evening when he walked in the door. They both knew that this was important to the health of their relationship, and they received one another eagerly and attentively, each day without fail.

When they had gone through marriage counseling in the past, the therapist suggested that they make an agreement to practice greeting one another in such as manner.

Stacey was the one who had insisted that both attend therapy for the problem with their marriage. Obstinately set against it, Hanson first refused the idea; but when the problem got worse, Stacey eventually insisted that Hanson make a choice.

She told Hanson that they could go through counseling, work their problems out, and get their marriage back. Alternatively Hanson could choose not to go to marriage counseling with her, and they would just deal with the problem by accepting things as they were—which in other words meant that Stacey would leave him if he did not go through counseling, because she would be damned if she was going to live that way any longer.

Psychotherapy turned out to be a lot of work and they both went through the emotional ringer in the process. When they finished the sessions however, they both were grateful that they had gone to seek help. Hanson would be the first to admit this fact. He had changed for the better in the process.

That was two years ago and things between them were far better now, the past two years had been like when they first got married, they were happy all over again.

However, this present evening, when Hanson came in late from work and silently closed the door, he walked in the house without looking his wife in the eyes. Stacey’s face began to beam with a huge smile at her husband’s arrival, but suddenly the smile fell from her face when she noticed his averted eyes. They focused inwardly, were dark and brooding, and he appeared deeply absorbed in his thoughts. It took Stacey off guard when she saw that Hanson’s face was red and saw his nostrils flaring as he inhaled heavily.

Stacey did not speak; she just stood still and watched him worrisomely, trying to gain some sense of his mood. When Hanson walked past her without saying a word, Stacey was immediately aware that something was very wrong.

Stacey’s mind quickly rewound the memory of Hanson coming home from work the evening before this one, and she quickly reviewed everything that had happened then.

Yesterday, Hanson came home from work on time, and when he came in the front door, he found Stacey standing in the living room as always. But things had been very different.

Hanson came in and pulled the door closed behind him hurriedly, slamming it with a bang. He immediately looked his wife straight into the eyes. He also remembered to lock the deadbolt, but did so abnormally, without turning back to look at it.

Hanson advanced towards Stacey who absorbed his intense stare but did not speak a word. As Hanson walked towards her, his steps were forceful, deliberate. He just kept walking, never stopping, as if he was a wind-up toy, too tightly wound. He walked right past the side table without placing his briefcase on it. As he walked on towards his wife, he simply swung his arm to the side and let loose of the brief case handle. It went flying in an arc and Stacey jumped, startled when the briefcase hit the floor with a crash. Continue reading