Feeling "Better"

Well, Hubby says I must be better, because I'm starting to complain...

It wasn't, actually, a complaint, just an observation I made, concerning his driving this morning, on the way in to work.

See, he had both hands on the wheel.

This is an unusual occurrence, for my Hubby, you see. Mr. "I've-been-to-skid-school-and-I-can-drive-like-a-maniac" usually only has a finger on the wheel, much less a complete hand. He never checks his blind spot and regularly guns the engine if, heaven help them, some poor pedestrian happens to be meandering across the road against the light...

But I digress. This morning I was startled out of my usual morning stupor/reverie by the sight of BOTH his hands on the steering wheel. I quickly assumed the crash position - with Hubby, a wise precaution - but there was no crash. We changed lanes, and the windshield wipers moved.

"Oh," I commented. "You were signalling to turn AND washing the windshield at the same time! I wondered why both your hands were on the wheel..."

"Phbbllt" was Hubby's reply. "You must be feeling better..."

And so my day began. I've been sick for a few days actually, lying on my side, heating pad clutched to my tummy, groaning "Oh" and "aaaw". Either stomach flu or food poisoning. Trouble with me is, I never throw up. I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times, since I've been an adult, that I've laid at the foot of the Great White Throne.

No, I just FEEL LIKE throwing up, for hours, days, weeks.... For as long as it takes. Outside observers might say I have a strong constitution, that it's difficult to poison me, that I'm - ha-ah - lucky in this way.

Lucky, eh? I wouldn't put it quite that way... The urge to die can be quite strong under these kinds of conditions, and "lucky" is not the first word that leaps to mind...

However, while lying in bed waiting to die, I had plenty of worrying time on my hands. A member of my family, Someone very precious to me, is having relationship difficulties, and I sympathize very much and worry about what's happening. I too, have had my share of relationship difficulties, both in and out of this particular marriage, and I can certify it's no joy when someone you love does things that mess with your state of being.

It FEELS like about half your world has been yanked out of your chest and bludgeoned on the floor.

No matter how independent, strong, flexible, forgiving, or cautious we think we are, no matter how hard we've worked to have our own identity, our own lives, our own interests, when our significant other exhibits behaviour that is unacceptable, stunning, belittling, dramatic, or inconsiderate to the point of being astonishing, our reality is crushed. Warped, along with our feelings, our sense of security, of purpose, of self.

For me, the reaction can be extreme, due to the mood disorder. See, whenever somebody acts completely out-of-character to me, the first question I have to ask is "Is it me?" As in, "did I ever really know this person to begin with?" Did something I did or said cause this? Is this appropriate considering our interaction?

Lots and lots and lots of self-doubt. So, in a way, it's almost easier for me to suffer these kinds of things, because I at least have that little bit of distance, wondering if maybe I brought this on myself.

My Somebody, on the other hand, has no such possible explanation. This happened out of the blue, a thundering gob-smack to the side of the head, an abrupt and unprovoked scene, a total lack of understanding, and no further communication.

This is very lonely territory, and I'm grieving about it, because the Somebody is desperately trying to get through the day and doesn't need me boo-hooing in their ear to make matters worse...

As my faithful readers know, I've been struggling in my marriage for some time, trying to figure out if I'm happier within it or not, trying to figure out what I'm going to do... Trying to figure out at what point loving teasing becomes a rasp against my self-esteem, against my soul. Trying to figure out if I'm the real culprit in terms of the mess in the house, or if it's unreasonable to expect teenagers to help out.

Trying to choose between occasional unacceptable behaviour versus usually sweet and fun.

And here my sweet Somebody is now going through the very same struggle, and the hardest part for me is -

I have absolutely no advice.

I don't know what the answer is, how the future will work out, one way or the other.

All I have is past experience, and the answer I draw from there isn't pretty.

"You will be strong..."

I remember being in my twenties and hearing those words, meant as encouragement, and the shudder of horror I felt upon hearing them.

The platitude "That which doesn't kills us makes us stronger," isn't as forthright as it seems. Firstly, because it DAMNED WELL NEARLY kills you. I mean within an inch of your life, of your sanity. Yeah, Life will teach us, for sure and IF, and it can be a big "if", IF we survive, we will be stronger...

Backbone, maybe. Stress causes problems in the body. I may be what is generally thought of as a "strong" woman, but my joints are on social security. Oh sure, I can survive leaving this relationship, selling my home, starting over... Oh, I'll be alive. And I'll be "stronger" - right now I have a mood disorder, fibromyalgia, recurring depression and thoughts of suicide, chronic sinus trouble... I wonder what it'd be AFTER I leave this relationship, sell my home, start over?

Because there is always a cost, no matter what "they" try to tell you. You decide to stay, to "put up and shut up", and the stress will wear away something in you that you thought would never go. You decide to take off, to take your chances, and you'll have support where unexpected and you'll make it through... but there will be payment required in some form. A part of your soul, maybe. Or a part of your spirit.

Today, on my way into work, Hubby announced I must be feeling "better".

Because I didn't die.