Did you think I was being overly dramatic on my last post? Here we are again, another dark and gloomy day, the foggy view from my front porch today. Seattle? Portland? Hardly. This is not what you expect, day after day, in the sunny and bright summers of the south. And I must not be the only one feeling the side effects as yesterday the front page of the newspaper's metro section read:
Remember the sun? (We didn’t think so)
Rainy nights (and days) are getting us down.
I have no energy this week, and my dear sweet husband this morning proclaimed that I need to start taking more vitamins. I love him, for the depth of his care and concern. I tried to tell him, right now it's more mental than physical. I am still getting on the treadmill every day, the way I promised. Yesterday I managed to somewhat clean the kitchen up, and although it took me the entire day, I did vacuum- always my biggest challenge physically. But the chores still take everything out of me. He said perhaps I will feel better after my upcoming surgery. And perhaps I will. I've had this issue with my hand and wrist, since January of this year, and I've just been going in for the quick fixes of cortisone shots and having the fluid drained. But none of that is working anymore. Even wearing my big clunky wrist brace, which gets in the way of practically every damn thing I want to do, has not given me any relief.
This morning I couldn't even lift up the coffee pot with my right hand, because of the pain, and even though the pain is localized to such a small area- I am right-handed and day after day, hour after hour of not being able to function in a normal manner is draining. Mentally. And when my brain starts to shut down, it drags my body down along with it. The unrelated medications- which I can't say are "new" anymore as I've been on most of them since my hospital stay in April- still make me sick on some days. Yesterday was one of those days, and today I'm hoping for a better outcome. I will soon go back to the doctor for another round of what is turning into monthly visits for blood work- with each outcome I seem to end up on more meds. This has been one of my worst years for medical bills, and with me not working now, it really makes me feel guilty. Some numbers are getting better- my liver, my white blood cell count- while some numbers are not- my blood pressure, my triglycerides.
I have posted before about not having (or wanting) children. The way I've felt the last few weeks, really magnifies all the reasons why that's been a good decision. I can barely take care of myself right now, some days I don't even make it to the shower until late in the afternoon, and that's only because J will be home soon. If he wasn't going to be around me, I have those times when I wouldn't care if I was bathed or not. That is sad, I know. I can't imagine having little ones that depend on me. Oh, the cats are pretty self-sufficient. Food, water, a clean litter box. I have to break up fights now and again, and dispense treats from a vintage cookie jar. But mostly they just sleep in their favorite spots around the house or chase the occasional fly that finds its way inside. Children? I don't even think I could handle taking care of a dog right now.
I think not having children has allowed J and I to be a little more young at heart than our peers. Most people, no matter how hard I try to convince them, simply do not believe that J and I are both going to be 47 shortly. 47 sounds too close to 50, and 50 just sounds old. Most people think we are still in our early or mid-thirties, which I find flattering. Someone told me the other day that we are the "cutest" couple she's ever met. I don't know if we really look that young, or if it's more the way we act. We've been very carefree in our ten years together, and we enjoy being silly and goofy, we like having fun because we are free to have fun. Not to say that couples with children don't have fun, that would be an uneducated statement on my part. People always ask us, so where are you guys off to this weekend? It's true, we don't stay at home. We don't party, but we don't melt into the couch on our days off and just stay there. And I find that on the weekends, when I'm with J, my energy level is up and my pain becomes just a forgotten background nuisance. I guess when I'm home alone with it, I focus on it more than I should, and it's easy to fall into that trap of woe is me and fixate on the things I can't do right now. J told me last night, I've got to shake myself out of it.
In all honesty, I've never really had to be responsible for anyone else, and sometimes I don't even think I'm responsible for myself. Sometimes I think not having children has left me feeling and looking younger, but has stunted my growth as an adult. Sure, I take care of J. I feed him when he's hungry, I make sure he has clean clothes, I get him an extra blanket for the bed when he's cold. But those are the things he was doing for himself before he met me, and he could do them for himself now if I wasn't around. I love and comfort him, but that's not the same as being responsible for him. He can function fine without me if he had to. I think about my sister- younger by two years yet everyone thinks she's older than me by at least five years. She's beautiful, but she always has this tired and worn look, the super mom who does everything for everyone. Two sons, big house, dog, husband, tough job, social and community commitments. I used to think she looked older than me because having children had aged her, but lately I'm starting to realize that she just "seems" older because in many ways she's so much more mature than I am. She has to be. And I don't and never have, and especially now that I don't even go into an office every day.
I worry that over time, J is going to become bored with me, not having anything exciting to talk about at the dinner table at night. It used to be, all I did was bitch about work and my boss, and I know that really exhausted him to listen to that. At least now our evening conversations are more pleasant, and I'm not angry every time he sees me. I know he loves me unconditionally, but I have fears- unfounded I'm sure- that if I don't have my own life away from him, he will start to see me as the pale ghost of a woman, he will see me as the suburban housewife and nothing more. How many times will he want to ask me what I did that day, and have me answer that I cleaned the toilets and took out the garbage, and those were the honest to god highlights of my entire day. Last night I mentioned that after I recover from my surgery in a few months, it might be time for me to go look for another job. I don't think he really wants me to do that either, he wants me to find a way to be happy and have a fulfilling life here at home. He cautioned that if I did find a job, he wants it to be something that will be fun, something that I want to do. He said there is zero pressure for me to just take any ol' job out there, financially I don't need to.
I've only been at home for less than four months now, and I'm not really sure that I have the right to stay at home. I know, that sounds stupid. But I don't have children to take care of, I don't have an at-home-business to run (especially if my art never sells online). I'm not at home baking bread and canning vegetables and raising goats. I didn't get fired, I voluntarily left a $50,000 a year job I'd been at for 11 years. I'm not really old enough to "retire". So what makes it okay for me to say, I choose to stay at home.
Is that really what a responsible adult would do?
MISS GEE
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