Today, today was not so good. For some reason Wash woke up in the most horrid mood and really just yelled at me for 2 hours when he woke. About everything, and life, and the unfairness of it, and how he's limited now and he's broken etc...
It was hard and it was painful to listen to. His bad days are just filled with the horrors that stalk me as well, and it's so difficult to get him to remember why he wants to live, why he is with me, why he loves me. He gets so frightened of the future and what will happen to me when he is gone. I was mad back because he went off his antidepressants. I'm ok with that as long as he is still getting help to deal with the issues of dying at 26. He hasn't. So, it builds and explodes out at me. Now, when I did this, he insisted that I get help in the form of both medicine and therapy. And I did. And fought for months to keep it. And have to do it all again now that I've been restarted on my own insurance. Point being a very large double standard that he is allowed to dictate my mental state, but I cannot say on his. Point made.
I left for a cool down time and came back so we could talk.
I told him it was unfair to yell at me and make demanding accusations. And that he was placing unfair burdens on me and the bulk of every responsibility is on me; which has led to some issues with his credit and now mine since he forgot to pay the only bill he was responsible for -and asked to be in charge of. He doesn't remember or care about credit. He's dying and won't ever have need of a new car, or new apartment, or house, or loan for college again... but maybe, maybe I will. And since we are married, this shite effects me as well. There are just so many double standards to living and caring for him.
I told him things had to change. I need to feel like a wife again and not just his "memory" something to dictate to and not treat as a person. He has been. I cannot remember the last time he offered to do something for me that was not getting me a glass of water. He doesn't remember. I miss my husband, the guy who would write me cards and draw sketches of our future home. The one who would do nice things for me without being explicitly told. It kind of takes the romance away to have to plan and tell him everything. I'm doing the work anyway of thinking and implementing, why even really bother? It's so much work and I just don't feel rewarded by things anymore. He has been angry that as he has lost his sense of short term memory and ability to do more than one task at a time; and this came out as I'm horrid for being on the laptop and having the tv on at the same time. I get upset that he uses me; instead of setting any of the 5! alarms we have in the bedroom alone when he lies in or takes a nap he always tells me what time to wake him. Small thing yes, but these are constant and do nothing except make me feel less human and more of a "thing"; a tool not a person.
So, we had a good long talk, I cried for another few hours as he really listened to me for the first time in a few weeks.
Then I cuddled with my kitten and slept for 4 hours.
We've also agreed to try and find a grief therapist to help deal with all this. And we both need it.
Sometimes life is unbelievably surreal.