Post by David on Aug 7, 2013 2:58:44 GMT -6
"Honey, I'm home."
The words that I used to eagerly await when she came home. She would slip off her coat, and walk up to me and give me a kiss on the lips. Softly. Then she would put her arms on my shoulders and hug me. I would return the hug and smile and welcome her home. The smells of dinner permeate the house. An hour later, pleasantly full, We would snuggle on the couch and talk about our day. She would laugh at my amusing anecdotes, or sympathise with my bad days. I would do the same, listen to her triumphs and smile, or say comforting things when a resident died where she worked.
That was before. Before the illness.
Working where I had worked was a stressful venture. I worked with two people that made life very hard. They were demanding folks. It seemed no matter what I did, I could not please them most days. They would put me down, Laugh at my innabilities. Joke at my expense. Yet, there were days where I was solid gold to them. A precious jewel that was a thing to behold... Those days did not come often. I had worked there for 5 years. 5 years of learning how to photocopy, Graphically design, Sell construction equipment and finances. I learned how to turn a piece of shit into a piece of art. How to restore what was thought forgotten. I learned. Even though the environment was tough and harsh, I learned.
Then, One night, I had just gotten back from the Doctors. I had been fighting with a stubborn ingrown toe-nail. So eventually after wearing down, I went under the encouragement of my fiance, to go to the Doctors and get some penicillen to fight the infection so they could remove it.
The pills they had gave me were this hideous blue color. I knew I was in for a rough couple of nights. Antibiotics always made me a little queasy. But nothing prepared me for what happened that night.
I had taken the pills around 8. As the pharmacist had instructed. I then proceeded, Stupidly I may add, to prepare some nachos, cheese and salsa. A favorite of mine. After we had finished our little snack, We went to bed. I was tired, and knew the medication was taking effect. But, I decided to ignore it and fall asleep. Her arms around me. Making me feel safe.
In the middle of the night, I woke up with a gasp of pain. My stomach! Oh, it was on fire! I had never known such pain! I quickly ran to the bathroom and let er rip. For a good solid hour, I was in the bathroom. I couldn't control anything on me. I eventually collapsed to the floor. My insides a river of fire, My knees, shaking and weak. I tried calling out for her, but she never heeded.
I eventually found the strength to get up and clean myself off. I was a right mess. Sweating, dishelved and filthy. I changed clothes and did what I had to do. When I came back to bed eventually, the burning sensation had abated. Whether due to the water, or the pepto, I do not know. All I did know is that I was angry! Oh I was mad! She never came to me in my time of need! I had always been there for her! Why not me??
I continued in this vain until I fell asleep again. When I next woke up, I was almost late for work. I had wanted to call in, but We needed money. We needed the finances. We were in a two bedroom apartment in a good part of town. 960 dollars a month and when you have bills,a car payment and other things, The paychecks dissapear quickly. Not to mention it was Christmas time.
The next week of work was agony. The pills had made me so sick that I had to stop taking them. It hurt so bad. So she decided to take me to Bowmanville hospital. We were seen by my Family Doctor. He quried as to why I did not continue with the medicine, and when I told him, All he had done was nod and say "Thats expected"
Well, My anger was apparently a force to behold. How dare he just brush aside my suffering as if it were nothing! But as a consolation, They did rip out my toenail. It was torture with the freezing but I was fine after that.
We then got home. I went to bed. Alone. She was angry that I was mad at the doctor. She didnt understand what I went through!
The next day. I felt horrible. I was in agony. Pain upon pain radiated through me and my stomach. I was so sick, I couldn't move. I was so sore, I was crying and in agony with every breath. I literally felt like I was going to die. At one point... I welcomed it. I confessed this, and she was hurt. I think thats when I did the most damage.
This pain continued all through christmas. I couldn't get up to even greet my family! Bedridden! at christmas!!
The days turned to weeks, Weeks to months. I couldn't even work. which lead to my eventual lay-off... A kindness from my boss so I could at least obtain Un-employment insurance. We suffered for money. Our relationship distablised into fights and arguements. Eventually... I just broke down and stopped defending myself. I didn't have the strength to go on.
Soon, Things got to the point, Where I was sleeping on the couch. Everynight. I couldn't handle the guilt and the cold looks. I felt as if I was just an invalid moron. That it was all my fault for the suffering I put her through. At one point, I was checking her cell phone for a number I needed to call. When a text message came in from her Aunt. It was a fairly mean message. It stated that I was a no good asshole and that I needed to die. That she did not deserve someone who was bleeding her dry and dragging her down.
I never told her I saw.
Eventually, We found a middle ground. She would talk civilly to me. And this continued to October, when her brothers house came available for rent. We (Her) were offered to rent out the bottom half for just 700 a month, all inclusive. And in the city I live in, thats a bargain and a half.
So, We moved. I did not want to move. I wanted to stay where we were. I was happy there. And it meant her mother didn't have control. Well. Unfortunately for me, She took control.
In the months following to January, it was hell. I was always yelled at for one thing or another, why the dishes werent done, why the laundry wasn't done. Why supper only had one or two components. (She refused to eat dinner if there wasn't a meat, veggie and a potato.) She never did any of the house work, because she felt she had done more than enough for me when I had gotten sick. Even when I managed to get my current job! things never improved.
Then, December came. I had met a lovely lady of whom I will not name. She showed me kindness and compassion. Something I was sorely missing. I admit to the world that I fucked up. I damn near cheated on her. But I stopped myself. But then and there, I knew that I was no longer in a relationship. My finances were controlled by her. She controlled what I did. Who I talked to.
After Christmas, of which we didn't even talk to each other. I made up my mind with the help of a family friend. She told me, Life is too damned short to be dealing with the issues I was.
So. January 19th. Two days after my birthday... I left. I left and felt horrible.
To this day, Living in my parents basement. I feel the sting of irrational guilt. What could I have done different? Why did I do all those dumb things. It's hard not to blame one's self for these things.
So.
Now you know the lament of a broken down, overweight, Unkempt and un-cheerful man.
I needed to get this out. Thanks for reading.
David
The words that I used to eagerly await when she came home. She would slip off her coat, and walk up to me and give me a kiss on the lips. Softly. Then she would put her arms on my shoulders and hug me. I would return the hug and smile and welcome her home. The smells of dinner permeate the house. An hour later, pleasantly full, We would snuggle on the couch and talk about our day. She would laugh at my amusing anecdotes, or sympathise with my bad days. I would do the same, listen to her triumphs and smile, or say comforting things when a resident died where she worked.
That was before. Before the illness.
Working where I had worked was a stressful venture. I worked with two people that made life very hard. They were demanding folks. It seemed no matter what I did, I could not please them most days. They would put me down, Laugh at my innabilities. Joke at my expense. Yet, there were days where I was solid gold to them. A precious jewel that was a thing to behold... Those days did not come often. I had worked there for 5 years. 5 years of learning how to photocopy, Graphically design, Sell construction equipment and finances. I learned how to turn a piece of shit into a piece of art. How to restore what was thought forgotten. I learned. Even though the environment was tough and harsh, I learned.
Then, One night, I had just gotten back from the Doctors. I had been fighting with a stubborn ingrown toe-nail. So eventually after wearing down, I went under the encouragement of my fiance, to go to the Doctors and get some penicillen to fight the infection so they could remove it.
The pills they had gave me were this hideous blue color. I knew I was in for a rough couple of nights. Antibiotics always made me a little queasy. But nothing prepared me for what happened that night.
I had taken the pills around 8. As the pharmacist had instructed. I then proceeded, Stupidly I may add, to prepare some nachos, cheese and salsa. A favorite of mine. After we had finished our little snack, We went to bed. I was tired, and knew the medication was taking effect. But, I decided to ignore it and fall asleep. Her arms around me. Making me feel safe.
In the middle of the night, I woke up with a gasp of pain. My stomach! Oh, it was on fire! I had never known such pain! I quickly ran to the bathroom and let er rip. For a good solid hour, I was in the bathroom. I couldn't control anything on me. I eventually collapsed to the floor. My insides a river of fire, My knees, shaking and weak. I tried calling out for her, but she never heeded.
I eventually found the strength to get up and clean myself off. I was a right mess. Sweating, dishelved and filthy. I changed clothes and did what I had to do. When I came back to bed eventually, the burning sensation had abated. Whether due to the water, or the pepto, I do not know. All I did know is that I was angry! Oh I was mad! She never came to me in my time of need! I had always been there for her! Why not me??
I continued in this vain until I fell asleep again. When I next woke up, I was almost late for work. I had wanted to call in, but We needed money. We needed the finances. We were in a two bedroom apartment in a good part of town. 960 dollars a month and when you have bills,a car payment and other things, The paychecks dissapear quickly. Not to mention it was Christmas time.
The next week of work was agony. The pills had made me so sick that I had to stop taking them. It hurt so bad. So she decided to take me to Bowmanville hospital. We were seen by my Family Doctor. He quried as to why I did not continue with the medicine, and when I told him, All he had done was nod and say "Thats expected"
Well, My anger was apparently a force to behold. How dare he just brush aside my suffering as if it were nothing! But as a consolation, They did rip out my toenail. It was torture with the freezing but I was fine after that.
We then got home. I went to bed. Alone. She was angry that I was mad at the doctor. She didnt understand what I went through!
The next day. I felt horrible. I was in agony. Pain upon pain radiated through me and my stomach. I was so sick, I couldn't move. I was so sore, I was crying and in agony with every breath. I literally felt like I was going to die. At one point... I welcomed it. I confessed this, and she was hurt. I think thats when I did the most damage.
This pain continued all through christmas. I couldn't get up to even greet my family! Bedridden! at christmas!!
The days turned to weeks, Weeks to months. I couldn't even work. which lead to my eventual lay-off... A kindness from my boss so I could at least obtain Un-employment insurance. We suffered for money. Our relationship distablised into fights and arguements. Eventually... I just broke down and stopped defending myself. I didn't have the strength to go on.
Soon, Things got to the point, Where I was sleeping on the couch. Everynight. I couldn't handle the guilt and the cold looks. I felt as if I was just an invalid moron. That it was all my fault for the suffering I put her through. At one point, I was checking her cell phone for a number I needed to call. When a text message came in from her Aunt. It was a fairly mean message. It stated that I was a no good asshole and that I needed to die. That she did not deserve someone who was bleeding her dry and dragging her down.
I never told her I saw.
Eventually, We found a middle ground. She would talk civilly to me. And this continued to October, when her brothers house came available for rent. We (Her) were offered to rent out the bottom half for just 700 a month, all inclusive. And in the city I live in, thats a bargain and a half.
So, We moved. I did not want to move. I wanted to stay where we were. I was happy there. And it meant her mother didn't have control. Well. Unfortunately for me, She took control.
In the months following to January, it was hell. I was always yelled at for one thing or another, why the dishes werent done, why the laundry wasn't done. Why supper only had one or two components. (She refused to eat dinner if there wasn't a meat, veggie and a potato.) She never did any of the house work, because she felt she had done more than enough for me when I had gotten sick. Even when I managed to get my current job! things never improved.
Then, December came. I had met a lovely lady of whom I will not name. She showed me kindness and compassion. Something I was sorely missing. I admit to the world that I fucked up. I damn near cheated on her. But I stopped myself. But then and there, I knew that I was no longer in a relationship. My finances were controlled by her. She controlled what I did. Who I talked to.
After Christmas, of which we didn't even talk to each other. I made up my mind with the help of a family friend. She told me, Life is too damned short to be dealing with the issues I was.
So. January 19th. Two days after my birthday... I left. I left and felt horrible.
To this day, Living in my parents basement. I feel the sting of irrational guilt. What could I have done different? Why did I do all those dumb things. It's hard not to blame one's self for these things.
So.
Now you know the lament of a broken down, overweight, Unkempt and un-cheerful man.
I needed to get this out. Thanks for reading.
David
