There are days where I feel like I am dying. When I become exhausted by walking a hundred feet, where every step is met with severe pain or my knees buckling. My energy is always low. Weird symptoms manifest, and sometimes it is too much to ignore and I become very discouraged. I only leave the house in short bursts, maybe once a week.
I can’t plan an entire day of ANYTHING because I am not able to withstand more than a couple of hours out before my body just STOPS cooperating. The fatigue and pain are ever present.
I am lucky if I get 5-6 hours of sleep, and that is never continuous. I toss and turn and wake up crying in pain multiple times a night. Rick stays up a lot later than I do, and even though I typically don’t have a problem falling asleep, staying asleep with him in bed watching tv, moving around, etc. makes it hard.
Every morning, regardless of what time I went to bed, I am UP at 4:15. There are days where I can force myself back to sleep, but it’s never more than an hour of extra rest.
Today would have been my parent’s 52nd anniversary. Grief is a bitch, and on important days like this, it invades every aspect of my thought process. Mood swings happen. I am reactionary. I am sad. I want to stay in bed and just be alone.
I was waiting for the mail to be delivered earlier, because I have informed delivery, and was expecting a letter from Social Services. I went to the mailbox and there was an envelope addressed to Rick from his ex, the mother of his kids. Hmmmmm, I didn’t know she even had our address… I came in and handed it to him, and asked why she was sending him anything, and why did she have our address? I’ll admit I was perturbed.
He said it was just a AAA card or something, no biggie. My reactionary self told him that I frequently think about him leaving me for her. She’s gorgeous, healthy as a horse, is a successful casting agent in Hollywood. And then there’s me…
She triggers me and I hate it. There’s good reasons for me to not want her anywhere near us.
When I feel like an argument is brewing, I take space. Rick had heated up leftovers for lunch, but I begged off and told him that I was going to lay down. I managed to nap for about 45 minutes. I woke up feeling better.
Rick was feeling some kind of way about the tofu enchiladas he was making. He is the cook who has really good ideas, but if at any point in the cooking process goes wrong, he gets really down about it. I knew exactly where the mistakes were being made, but didn’t want to butt in too much, because he certainly does not tell me how to cook. I offered gentle suggestions- briefly fry the tortillas before trying to roll them, bake the tofu chunks to dry them out before frying in sauce. He was determined to do it his way, and I knew that it was going to be delicious regardless, so I let him do his thing.
He absolutely NAILED the sauce and the flavors. He was disappointed because it didn’t look like what he had planned. We ate half of a cake pan, lol. I am eating some of it now for breakfast.
Today, we are headed to the food pantry to grab some groceries. Later, we are going to a free comedy show on our street.
Rick said I will be very surprised by the comics that are appearing.
This was written a week ago. I have had it sitting open on my laptop for that long. I just couldn’t be bothered to post it, because it feels like my experience doesn’t matter to anyone but me. And that’s okay. It just feels like I am screaming into the void lately.
Loading comments...