clickmom

Wallowing

I was talking to friend who despite her husband’s rough attitude, which may or may not be attributed to brain damage from strokes or even the earliest stages of Alzheimer’s. She is still deeply in love with this guy, and doesn’t even want to think about life without him despite how he has pretty much been awful towards her the majority of time.

I personally tend to wallow in the big pond of resentment and anger.

I was thinking about my personal philosophy on love. I think that one can only love someone if they truly believe they are being loved by the other person. This is the way people can love someone who doesn’t actually love them, being based on a false belief. (Think: celebrity stalkers) It’s why battered women stay with broken men. They secretly believe that the men love them deep down inside. It would be the realization that one is not being loved which makes it possible to fall out of love, or “get over” someone.

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Lalala

The first time I realized I was singing out loud was when I was a senior in high school and my friend asked me how I knew the lyrics to every song. I didn’t know why she was asking me. So I asked her and she said that every day I sang as I heard the different radios playing in the schoolyard. I had no idea I was singing out loud. I had no idea I was singing at all.

 I vaguely recall a similar incident as a freshman at Georgia Tech in the architecture lab. We used to stay up drafting all night long and someone was always playing a radio. 

 I was checking out at the market the other day when the lady in front of me turned to me and said I had a beautiful voice. My hands flew up to cover my mouth and my eyes got big as I realized I had been singing in the market while shopping for dinner groceries. The woman then reassured me by telling me that she had heard me singing in the vegetable section and once another time in the store and that I should not be embarrassed because I had perfect pitch and she would know, she said, because she was a Juilliard graduate.  I joked that I was going to follow her around all day so she could continue flattering me. But the truth is that this woman’s compliments made my day and the happiness didn’t disappear until about ...... I’ll tell you when it happens.  I secretly believe I could have been a singer if only I had been encouraged. 

Don’t know how to feel don’t know what to do

Last night I went to bed with a mild headache and woke at 2AM with the kind of headache that feels like it might be the end of me. I vomited, had diarrhea, got sick again and went back to bed with such a searing pain in my brain I wondered if I’d wake in the morning. 

 Obviously I did wake up. One thing I noticed as I was running back-and-forth to the bathroom last night was that I could see a dim light underneath the doorway of my bedroom. Once I had vomited the final time I open the door to my bedroom and could tell that The husband was watching television in the family room. I didn’t have the energy to even call out to him and I just assumed that he was unable to sleep  and returned to my bed. 

This afternoon my husband told me that he thinks he had a low blood sugar event last night. He said he woke up shaking uncontrollably and sweating so he came into the kitchen and found some cookies to eat and watch television until he felt better. He had no idea that I was upstairs being ill so I asked him why he didn’t call out to me or text me from his cell phone. He just looked at me and shrugged.

 I had visions of me coming downstairs and finding him in a coma on the chair or worse. He is in capable of understanding how serious a situation like that is and I don’t think there is a way to help him to understand. Sometimes I question if he wants to live or if he is accepting that he will die.  The apathy that he has as a result of whatever has atrophied his brain makes it impossible to know what he wants. It might make it impossible for him to want anything. I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know what to do.