I think what really punctured my dysfunctional marriage was finding my ex-husband's self-written mother-son porn about two years into it. It finally made sense of why he wanted me pregnant - he wanted to fantasize about that. Where the low-libido came in and his blaming me for scaring it out of him, I'm not entirely sure. Maybe it's part of having a mother fixation. But after that I was pretty much sexually dead with him, which was fine because we weren't having any.

Clueless me - I took him into marriage counseling and drove the therapist into having to color her rapidly greying hair, start drinking after twenty years of sobriety, and eventually her throwing us out of her office. I felt really bad about that, but I had no clue what was really going on. He refused to believe anything was wrong with him - after all it was 'my fault for getting worked up about a genital sneeze'. And I believed him.

I have a sudden desire to throttle him now. I suppose for his sake he's lucky he's back in Arkansas. Never again. less