This week I've just been sitting and reading. Keeping the TV off, nose stuck in a big fat 25-year-old paperback, trying to drink lots of water and eat plenty of fresh fruit. And I feel okay. It was a good week to kick back- after about a month of infernal drought, we've had rain for the past four days. When it's dark and gloomy out, I like to sit on the couch with the lamp on and listen to the heavy raindrops plinking on the metal of the chimney.
After ten weeks at his first assignment, J's second assignment is going to stretch out for at least five weeks that he knows of, and maybe more. He's working nights again, but at this location they don't have as many issues and so his "night" is less grueling at 9-10 hours instead of 12-13 hours. He's getting more sleep, and he's sounding a lot less frustrated when I talk to him right now. He'll be home this whole weekend. After that, he heads back out for two weeks straight, without coming home on the weekend. Instead, he's booked a flight for me so that I can come out there and spend three days with him over that next weekend. He's already lined up a baseball game the first night, a football game the second night. My husband, gotta love his energy and desire to experience all of life.
I'm finding that my time, my life, is now compartmentalized into "with J" and "without J". I know you expect me to write that I'm always happier with J. No, I'm finding that's not necessarily true. When I'm down, I'm down. When I'm up, I'm up. I certainly enjoy life more and have more fun being with my husband, but I find my moods are controlled by the depression and the chronic pain. They both dictate how I'm going to feel, how I'm going to behave, how I'm going to relate to the world around me. If I'm home alone, if I'm out with J- it doesn't matter, the pain doesn't care. When it takes hold of you, it doesn't give a crap where you are or who you're with. I always try to resist it, and I promise you that fighting against it will wear you down even quicker. Honestly, J doesn't let me sit around and miss out on the weekends, he wants to go do things so I'm at his side. I know if I were to say, honey I am just in too much severe pain today, I can't- he would be okay with that. But since I never complain to him, he encourages me to not let the aches get in the way of our life together. I'm madly in love and appreciative and utterly exhausted all at the same time.
J told me this past weekend that when he gets on the plane on Fridays, all he can think about is getting back home to me as fast as possible. J is very physical in his expressions of love. He is a hugger and a kisser. Even out in public he loves to grab and rub and pinch and poke and tease, he is always wanting to touch and to be touched. When we sleep, he even has to have his foot nudging my leg all night long, or a hand on my shoulder. I've never had to beg for a back rub, he's there happily doing it. I confess that on days when I'm down, when I hurt, when I'm feeling like shit, I am not as receptive to his wanting me to sit close to him or wanting to cuddle or wanting to hold me. I am not as receptive to his affections. I'm not talking about saying no to sex because I'm not in the mood, I'm talking about a wonderful caring man who revels in my presence and only wants me to scoot over towards him just a little bit more on the couch.
I'm an ungrateful bitch, I'm sitting here almost complaining about a husband who likes to snuggle and who enjoys giving me a foot rub while we're watching TV. I'm talking about shrugging off the loving touches of a man who still wants to be with me even though I'm fat and old and grumpy. What is wrong with me? I am married to the type of man that many women will never know, can only dream about, and some days I have to tell him to take a step back because he's too close to me. It's like I anticipate my pain, and in essence I'm pushing away from him. J never never ever causes me pain, it's my body, not anything he does. But some days, I hurt so much that even when he helpfully rubs the sore places, it's too much and I have to ask him to stop.
I know it's just the pain and depression. It's not a true version of how I feel about my husband. In some ways he understands, he will say "are you hurting today?" if I pull away from him when he hugs me too tight. Other times I can tell he feels slighted and rebuffed. This last weekend, at red lights he kept leaning over in the seat to kiss me, and after a few kisses I would just smile at him but not lean towards him. I could tell he was sad. Quite frankly, even leaning over that little bit in the car hurt my body like a mother fucker, and I'm not kidding. I wasn't saying I didn't want to kiss J, I was just in so much pain I couldn't move that way anymore. And I get sick of telling him so often that I'm in pain, and surely he's got to be tired of hearing it too, although he would never say that to me.
I don't know what we'll do this weekend. He gets home super early Friday morning, although he will have to sleep for awhile after working all night. Then he doesn't head out until Monday morning. I'm sure we will find plenty to do since we are always such go go go people. By the end of the weekend, I'll be feeling it in my back and shoulders and feet and head. I'll get cranky but do my best to hide it, but those of you with perceptive spouses know you can never really hide that kind of stuff from them- they always know. After this weekend, then we are out of town on trips the next three weekends. I am unbelievably thankful that I have a husband who wants to spend time with me, who works hard so we can travel and be together and have a great time.
I try to put on my best and brightest happy face for J, I try to be cheerful and enthusiastic and adventurous whenever I'm with him. But sometimes the pain just wipes all of that out of me. I have got to work on this. Now that he travels full time, I'm only with him 2-3 days a week. I have the rest of the week to sit around and feel sorry for myself and mope in my misery if that's what I want to do. When I'm with him, even if it hurts my back when he holds me tightly to him, I've got to suck it up. For him. I love it when he wants to wrap me in his strong arms and give me a great big hug just because, and I've got to pretend that it doesn't light every nerve ending in my body on fire. I'm just so damn tired of that pain and how poorly I react to it. I'm so afraid that one day, he will be tired of my reactions too.
I guess it's just been bad lately, but luckily I am not always in this much pain, not every day, not every weekend. And besides, J is the best medicine in the world, no doctor could do more for me.
MISS GEE
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