That moment of terror lasted 30 years

I had a shocking realisation today, reading a book called The Mystery of Marriage by Mike Mason (given to me by Warwick Marsh of the Fatherhood Foundation). In the book Mike is telling the story of an incident in a monastery that he and his new wife visited where he was suddenly gripped by a cold hand around his heart. Questions flooded into his ehad. What am I doing? Who is this woman? Can I back out of this marriage? His moment of terror was soon dissolved when the couple observed two hawks flying together and playing joyfully in the vastness of the sky.
I recognised his moment of terror. I’d had my own. But it wasn’t resolved so easily, and the consequences dogged our relationship for 30 years. Louisa and I had a whirlwind romance. We were inseperable from the moment we “collided”., like childhood best best friends. We started living together informally almost from day one. When we returned by train to the university town for the beginning of the new year, Louisa was no longer booked into a residential college. We were sharing a farmhouse with my best friend at the time, Mark Jones. I hit the brick walk of fear and uncertainty as the Glen Innes Mail slowly drew us closer to Armidale, the New England university town where we met and where the early scenes in the tragicomedy of our love affair would be played out.
Fear gripped my heart. Suddenly I felt sick in the stomache. I couldn’t feel the love that I had for Louisa. I felt like I was taking on a responsibility I couldn’t fulfil. I felt dread of the future. I felt that I was going to hurt Louisa. I just wanted to get away and be alone. I did not have the courage to tell her what I was going through. But she must have sensed the distance between us. The dreadful distance kept recurring throughout our days together. I was pushing her away, then clinging to her when she tried to escape me. This pattern continued until she managed to escape and I peered into the abyss, alone, despairing, devastated. It all started with that moment of fear.
I came across that same phenomenon in the movie “Rumor Has It” when the newly married sister Annie Huttinger (played by Mena Suvari) has a panic attack on the tennis court. She can’t breathe. She explained to Jennifer Aniston that the marriage had all seemed like a dream, but then reality set in with a jolt.
Mike Mason says it’s the moment when we realise the intensity of the invasion of privacy that marriage brings with it.
Is this a psychological condition that people go through? Should marriage carry a warning label?

THE FULL TEXT OF 'MAN OVERBOARD' IS AVAILABLE IN THE FIRST POST OF THIS BLOG