How to Stop Spiraling in a Difficult Marriage

It was 3:19 in the morning. My body was tired, but not my mind.

If you live in a difficult relationship, you know this kind of waking. It isn’t just insomnia. It’s your mind trying to sort through things.

What if I had answered differently? What if I say too much the next time?

When the unknown becomes part of your story, your brain learns to stay alert. And that’s exhausting.

Sometimes that constant bracing turns into confusion — that foggy feeling where you can't quite tell what's real anymore. I wrote more about that in Why Do I Feel So Confused in My Marriage?

The other day, one of my daughters was trying to decide. She was going back and forth.

What if this was the wrong choice? What if I regret it? What if it doesn’t work out?

I could see the tension rising in her.

The longer she stayed in the middle, the tighter she became.

And I heard myself say, calmly, “Honey… this is where the tension lives. You’re in the middle.”

It wasn’t the decision exhausting her. It was the back and forth. And when I said that, something in her shifted. Because once you realize where the tension lives, you stop being afraid of yourself.

Later that night, still awake, I realized something else. The middle is where women in difficult marriages sometimes live, too. In conversations, you replay. In wondering whether to say something or stay quiet. Whether to try one more time or let it go.

And the tension isn’t always in what’s happening.

It’s in the middle — in that space where you’re trying to make sure everything turns out ok. That’s where the tightness comes from. That’s where exhaustion builds.

The exhaustion in a difficult marriage isn’t only from the conflict. It’s from trying to control what’s not always yours.

Somewhere in the middle of one of those spirals, this question can steady you:

What is actually mine here? Not what I wish I could fix. Not what I think I could improve if I explained it one more time. And not the outcome I’m hoping will finally make me feel safe.

Because if I’m honest, I am looking for safety. We’re all looking for safety.

And I’ve had to learn this slowly. I can’t wait for the outside to settle before I feel safe. It comes from knowing I’m steady inside myself. So what’s mine? My tone. Whether I step in or step back.

That’s where my safety begins. And maybe this is where surrender starts.

Surrender is the place you land when you realize you’re not getting anywhere.

It’s the place you settle when the two sides in your head stop clashing. When you recognize that the middle is keeping you stuck. And strangely, it’s there that peace begins.

Nehemiah said, “I took counsel with myself.”

And Jesus told Martha, “You are worried and upset about many things.”

In a difficult marriage, there are always many things. Layers. Unknowns. Emotions. But not all of them are yours to manage.

The next time the spiral starts, I’m going to ask myself, is this mine? And maybe you could try that too. If it is, we’ll handle it with steadiness. If it isn’t, we’ll release it.

You don’t have to keep explaining yourself. You don’t have to walk into every conversation that goes nowhere. And, you don’t have to carry the emotional weight of another. Staying in your own backyard isn’t indifference; it's stability.

Maybe the messy middle isn’t something to fear. Maybe it’s just a signal.

A sign you haven’t landed yet.

You don’t have to solve everything at 3:19 a.m.

You can choose what’s yours, and when you do, the tension loosens.

Not because everything outside of you changed. But because you finally landed. And landing feels safe.

“But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother;”

 Psalm 131:2 ESV

You're not alone.

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Patrice,

Still Her | The Journey Home