Here We Go Again

Just like always…I can’t believe I expected things to be any different…a couple days into a flare (or as I usually call them my bad days) and I catch hell because things aren’t done around the house. I don’t remember signing up to be a maid (especially to him AND his brother). I told him that if he wanted to treat me like a simple roommate, then that’s what we were. He could wash his own clothes and do his own dishes (not like I eat with them anyway). That lasted about two days before dishes started accumulating in the sink again. For a while I said nothing and continued to load and unload the dishwasher. I took out the trash. I even folded his clothes because after two days of them sitting on top of the dryer it was obvious he wasn’t going to do it.

Like I said the other day, I have been having bad days since Sunday. Do I ask for them? NO! But hey, shit happens. So, after two doctors appointments and 45 minutes at the pharmacy, I got home exhausted. I was about to fall asleep as he got home. I slept until 8:45 when I hear him cussing in the kitchen because he’s having to load the dishwasher…and the food that I did leave in case he was absolutely starving…hasn’t been touched. I make the mistake of going into the kitchen and offering to help and getting the usual “well it should have already been done.” REALLY?

In order to half-way keep the peace, I say nothing else and let him continue with what he is doing. I’m not about to follow his lead straight into an argument in which I get insulted, cry, and then get told that I’m just being dramatic. Not this time….

…He just asked me -very nicely, mind you- if I wanted to eat. I told him I wasn’t hungry. He insisted so I forced down 3 fries to get him to leave me alone. I got up, said thank you, and started back to my room. He followed me in there to give me a big hug (which of course hurt). Do you see the roller-coaster of emotions he has that I have to deal with? I don’t know which way is up and which is down anymore. See why I dread him coming home? It’s no wonder I am about to loose my mind. I told my therapist today that I was on the brink of losing my mind…she said as long as it’s not lost yet we’re ok; as long as I have a little faith left I’m ok. I don’t feel ok. I feel like my strength is rapidly running out. The strength to deal with this damned illness, the strength to maintain emotional stability in a world with twists and turns at every angle.

And to be honest, I do worry about who will take care of me when he’s gone. Who will take me to appointments where someone has to promise to stay with me for 24 hours after I leave because I’ve had sedation for some procedure or other. I guess there’s really no point worrying about it now. Not because he’s going to miraculously change, but because I simply don’t have the strength to worry anymore. I will have to face each day and each challenge as it comes or I will lose what’s left of my mind.

Sorry guys…told you it wouldn’t be long before there was another rant.

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6 thoughts on “Here We Go Again

  1. Stay strong Joy, I know it’s hard when you feel so badly. Sounds like your other half has a little issue with passive aggression. You can’t control that but you can control how your react….I know easier said than done 😉 but the added stress only adds to our symptoms. Feel better 🙂

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  2. Girl, I know it’s hard to try, but don’t give up. You have to keep trying, as hard as it is. If I didn’t keep trying, Wild Thang wouldn’t even be here, just sayin………………………….I know it sucks, but you know, as well as I do, that you don’t need the added stress. It only makes it all worse. Can you just go in your room, like me. somewhere where you can just be alone. That keeps me from reacting. I know that sounds stupid that I have to isolate in order to not react. Chronic illness and pain sucks and only those of us who have it, understand it. It’s invisible, so we don’t look sick to others. That’s one reason I started doing what I’ve been doing, now maybe they can see it. No further words on that issue, please. Only on the phone. Tonight. 20 minutes. Hang on, Wild Thang is on the way. I’m just repeating the same words you tell me when I’m feeling the way you’re feeling today. I understand and I am so sorry that you have to live life this way, I really am. I wish there was something I could do to help you. Just a few more minutes, girl.
    HUGS
    Wild Thang

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    • Ok, I got an email that said you had posted a comment that your daughter was there…am I waiting for you to call me? I’m glad you’re feeling better enough to talk.
      I’m ok, really, it just grates on my nerves to the nth degree that I have to put up with him…and even worse than that is that he pulls this shit and literally 5 minutes later everything is fine and he’s wanting to give me a hug and kiss. ARGH! I’m telling you, he is not trying to fix things, so as soon as he’s able to go…you know why he’s still here…I am making sure he goes. No more talking his way out of things for 10 min — 12 hours and then it’s back to shit again. I’m tired of the roller coaster!

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      • yes, she’s been here all day and just now has come up here to spend some time with me before she leaves. I will call you. If you don’t hear from me by 8:15 p.m. call me. please. Hang in there. Wild Than is not feeling well at all, but I need to talk to my buddy.

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