Tuesday 11 March 2008

I am more than the sum of my (broken) parts

I am really starting to resent the way my husband sees me as an 'ill person'. I mean, he's doing his best and everything, but it seems that everything I do or say is being filed away in his head under 'irrelevant because she is clearly crazy'. It's like having a totally valid, non hormonal argument when your period is due, based entirely on the fact that they are being a wanker, and having them say (calmly - always calmly) 'do you have PMT, by any chance?', and all you want to do is shout NO - YOU ARE JUST BEING A WANKER!

I am allowed to be angry without it meaning something else. I am allowed to be snippy without needing to up my meds. I am allowed to not fancy a shag without it being a return to the dark old days of merely inhabiting the same house.

It is the unholy combination of tiptoeing around me and at the same time patronising me that is starting to really piss me off. I wish he would just get out of my space and stop looking after me quite so much. Particularly since he is clearly suffering from the self imposed pressure to be a martyr to my illness. I feel like I have to be better RIGHT NOW just so that he doesn't have a heart attack - any mention that this might be a slightly longer term issue is not popular.

Maybe I should just go for the heart attack option. Kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.

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