I find myself doing this "remember when" thing in my head a lot. I ask myself Remember when you could just walk with your friends? Remember when other people didn't scare me? Remember when I wasn't scared to breath in public? Remember when I could hug people? High five them? Touch their arm? Pat their backs? This pandemic is really depressing me.
I find myself thinking a lot about how safe and protected I would feel in utopia. It just makes me want to cry. But I know I would be spending my days wandering the woods up there , all safely alone, because I hardly never saw anyone (aside from that mofo with the attack akita) and I wonder a lot about the state park I had discovered the last summer. I feel like I hadn't finished exploring it. But now It's so far away. Just a memory. And it all makes me so sad, because this is the time I was going to really be there, settling in, combining my summer life with my every other month of their life. I want that future back. I really do. I'm so sad.
This morning the husband was surprisingly up about 5 hours earlier than usual, and sitting in his spot in his chair watching television when I came downstairs to go out to the backyard with sweet pea. I went outside with sweet pea and then sat down in front of the morning news with him when a story came on about summer vacations and how people are staying pretty local and renting lake houses and I looked at him and asked him not to make me listen to a story about lake houses (he holds the remote). He looked at me as if we had never had a lake house that had to be sold because he spent over 3 times the amount of money we agreed to spend on renovating it. He acted like I was having a tantrum when I literally just asked him to change the channel. I think that swallowing my hatred for him, for his disease, for his mental illness, for whatever it is that has given him ZERO empathy and ZERO guilt and ZERO ability to show respect, gratitude, support, kindness, or any other personality trait that would be nice to live with is really taking it's toll on me. I would love to express my hatred for him but if I were to do that honestly, and truly, I think it would be like breaking hoover dam and I can't even imagine that if I ever started to express this feeling that it just wouldn't explode out of me like a to burning volcano and then never stop. Ever. I am so filled with anger, resentment, and sadness that if I even opened a little pin prick of it all I feel as if it would never stop spewing out of me.
It isn't only because he ruined utopia for me and then took it away, it's also because he doesn't respect me (or any person, really) or have any gratitude for anything. Not even for me taking care of him. He never once thanked me for saving his life all of those times I forced him to go to the ER and the doctors said It's a good thing you came when you did, if you had waited any longer.... But now I feel stupid for even saving his life all of those times. Maybe he just doesn't want to live anymore. Though he did tell me yesterday that he had woken up in the middle of the night with low blood sugar and had come to the kitchen and eaten some pretzels (like almost a whole bag) to get it back up. I told him that was precisely why I got him an apple watch- so he could call me in an event like that. He said he didn't need me. I am just waiting for the day he can't get up when he takes too much insulin. I am quite sure I should maybe take over that responsibility but its the one medicine he wants to be in charge of. And you can't argue with someone who had lost all of his critical thinking skills. You just can't.
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