Wash woke up late and not very clear memory wise.
This has led to several arguments on my part and yelling from Wash's.
Always of course, on the day he sees the therapist.
I'm not even sure what he is really mad about. He won't tell me, just gives very very fake "answers".
He says he wants to work on acceptance of his illness/disability but just yelled at me for "rubbing it in" when he forgets something. -And I remind him?
Here I am left with very unhappy thoughts.
I don't understand his brain. I don't think he knows himself anymore.
I can only get myself, and see patterns in others. He doesn't communicate... he has to be asked, to have the information drawn and pulled from him. I don't do that as an Aspie, and I just hate doing it in general for all the energy it takes from me.
"What's my reward [for remembering]?" He asks me - well, honestly he yelled that part too.
I don't know Wash. Me giving you as much normalcy as possible?
What's my reward? For remembering everything for you- and me- and DOING as well?
My reward? It as well is nothing.
I don't get pay for working 24 hours every day of the week with no breaks.
My husband either doesn't notice or can't remember to thank me for everything, what am I doing this for? - NOT A FRAKKING 'THANK YOU'.
I do this, deal with it, every second of every single day because I LOVE my husband.
I don't look at him and just see a label-"Cancer Boy" or something. I see the person there AND his disease.
He's back to thinking he is just "playing" a game of "Life". He's not living it, or trying to do anything. There must be a way to "win" and if he can't, woe be to me.
I've told him before. I don't want to stay married to a person playing at life. That's just a little too unfair to ask me to literally give up my life and my future for someone who seems to hate ME so.
I don't know if he is angry at me or himself or both.
It scares me, but it hurts not to know.
It seems to me I am being asked to DO everything, WATCH everything, TAKE CARE of everything.... and at the same time find and praise Wash for doing (what??!), accept my own pain, take on Wash's, defend my actions, again more praise for Wash breathing, NOT dare mention my own lack of care or attention, and do this all for another grown, living adult until he dies.
Then I can ask my parents to be co-signers for the rest of my life since my credit has been trashed from medical bills and Wash's debts that are now mine.
I'm not really happy to be alive right now.
I guess the biggest hurt is just seeing my care, my love, my time, my attention and all my resources going to someone else with the knowledge that it will never come back to me.
I guess that makes me a selfish human?
Frakkin' Fridays. This is the side of cancer you won't ever see in a nifty little sexy commercial.
The pain of struggling just to live.