So I used money to try to solve the problem again. Only this time, I hired a therapist.
In my first therapy session, my therapist warned me that he would say what Richard couldn’t or wouldn’t say–that I might get mad at him at first, and even be tempted to quit therapy. I told him I was pretty strong and willing to listen.
He then said something that was eye-opening. He said, “Pretend the time you have in a day is made up of 10 units. How many of those units do you devote to work?”
I said, “Eight.”
He nodded. Then, “How many on your relationship?”
I said, after a long (and humbling) pause, “One.”
He said, “I don’t think so.”
And that’s when I broke down in tears.
Wow, I felt so bad when I read this.