JOSH
Once I started at Auburn, I poured everything into my schoolwork. Auburn consumed my life, and I was happy for it to. I had failed at the whole college thing once, and I was determined not to do it again. Having gone to war and back since the last time I was in a classroom, I felt like I had so much to prove. I needed everyone’s approval—Paige’s, the Army’s, society’s, even my own—to show them that if life was one big test, I was acing it. I would succeed, and I was going to show everyone that not having legs was never going to slow me down.
On paper, it looked like Paige and I were still accomplishing our goals. I was going to graduate from college, I had a great intern position set up, and Paige had a good job, but things were just weird at home. I had never felt so indifferent toward her. It just didn’t bother me that we didn’t talk that much or spend intentional time together. I still knew her as the amazing wife who had gotten me through the biggest crisis I had ever faced, but there just seemed to be this unspoken mutual agreement that any relationship maintenance would have to take place when we weren’t so busy. Then, the competitive sessions began. It was like our mission was to win a contest of who had the most difficult day. We weren’t nice to each other. Ever. Communication in our home was very matter of fact: “Did you take the trash out?” “Did you get more diapers from the store?” “Did you clean the car?” And even though I hated the tension and the drama, I always answered with attitude. Even if I had completed everything possible to do around the house that day, Paige’s response was never appreciative; instead she would find something not done, or even worse, I imagined her saying to herself, Good! It’s about time he pulled his weight around here. To deflect, I would throw attitude back at Paige by avoiding her at all costs. Our marriage was not a relationship; it was just the means to get things accomplished throughout the day, and we were on different planets about how those things should be done. Poor communication (both talking and listening) helped us build assumptions about each other, like “You’re lazy” or “You just don’t care.” Our imaginations ran wild. We fought constantly. Every fight was fueled by some made-up belief. We could never come to a resolution because each of us had already made up our mind on where the other person was falling short, therefore making it all the other’s fault. The arguments often led to one of us sleeping in another room and committing to the silent treatment for two or three days. Someone would eventually break the silence, and we would talk. The talking was not productive, however. We agreed that we hated fighting, but Paige believed that someone had to take blame for it. I would raise the white flag and say, “Yes, this is all my fault. I’m a bad husband and a bad person, so I will take the blame.” Each time, Paige would respond with variations on “You’re not a bad person, but thank you for admitting this is all your fault.” Paige stayed in a position of dominance; I stayed in a position of guilt. The anxiety built and the cycle continued.
PAIGE
Being in a position of dominance was a lie that I continued to believe was working. I justified my opinions by telling myself that Josh would eventually come around to my way of thinking. However, I was only fooling myself. Not only was I not winning him over, but every bit of control I had was false. The more I tried to ignore the truth, the more anxiety built inside me. Aside from the draining logistics, the competition at home, and parenting Harper, commuting to a job an hour away was wearing on me every day. Meanwhile, Josh was nearing graduation but still piling on the work to build his resume for a full-time job after graduation. I stood in my kitchen staring at our family calendar and realized we had not had a weekend off in almost three months. I was on the edge of a precipice that had no bottom in sight.
I had two panic attacks in February 2016. The first time, Josh was next to me in bed, and I don’t remember if we were awake or if we were mid-conversation, but all of a sudden I was sweating and gasping for air. Even in that moment I kept telling Josh I was fine, and I truly didn’t think something bad was happening. I just thought I needed to catch my breath. It was more than that. I felt almost a swelling in my neck, like my air was being choked off. I kept thinking that if I could just get one deep breath it would stop, but my breathing remained rapid and shallow, like I had just run a three-hundred-yard sprint. When I finally caught my breath, my head was pounding and my eyes were watering. I blew it off and fell asleep. It wasn’t until the next day I asked myself, Why would you need to catch your breath while lying in bed? I was in denial about it being a panic attack. Then, I had another one. I was in my bathroom at home and had just read an email from my boss regarding funding. Basically, a donor had decided to go another direction with some funding that would have paid for my first-year needs. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I suddenly felt very jittery and began sweating and breathing rapidly again. I sat on the floor
