reflections & ramblings : 09.04.2021

reflections & ramblings : 09.04.2021

… I absolutely hate Fridays …
… really hate them …

This post is borne out of Fridays, which in our house is cleaning day … and guess what … it’s fucking Friday today …

And I absolutely hate how it makes me feel!

Friday’s is also takeout night … and guess what … because of what happens in the day I am always anxious eating my takeout, which makes me poorly too …

why …

Well, firstly, it reminds me of how little I can do …

And, secondly, I actually feel like a nuisance …

Thirdly, I can feel ill-feeling and judgement and resentment being pushed towards me …

… yep I have a carer in my husband

but

there are things still expected of me …

And guess what … I can’t do them … I can’t do anything without getting sicker. And so, Fridays is the day when I face all over again how little I do, how much is done for me, how I feel like I’m taking up too much space. Oh the list could go on forever.

But, most importantly, it makes me feel bad about myself and bad about being poorly. It always makes me want to cry. sometimes, I actually do need to cry, to get over it and move on and into Saturday.

[su_quote cite=”sad me …”]I often go to the bathroom to cry on Fridays …[/su_quote]

how do I feel …

OK, let’s look at this from my perspective and in terms of how I feel. Because, how I feel is important, right?

Sometimes, it doesn’t feel that way. Sometimes, my feelings are pushed to second place … even last place …

So, I mainly feel not worthy to having feelings about this. Yes, and I am also afraid to approach this subject because it will be met with more distain, resentment, and possibly even an angry outburst that could last till next Friday. So I keep it to myself as much as I can. Yet, I feel I need to share it on here.

[su_quote cite=”sad me …”]FYI: My OH doesn’t know that I write a blog website. He probably wouldn’t even be interested. But I find it almost cathartic, especially when it comes to writing about stuff like this.[/su_quote]

it hurts …

It hurts to acknowledge that you can’t do anything, and to know that with every step of trying you are making yourself sick. But, sometimes you are doing these things in response to the manipulative undertones that you can feel so much being pushed towards you.

Only someone who is married and or has lived with someone long enough will know what I mean here. You know when you see someone doing something but you know they’re feeling ill towards you while they’re doing it.

It’s hurts … L O T S …

I   F E E L   H U R T    . . .

what do I feel …

I feel …

… unworthy … … a nuisance …  … not entitled … … very sad … … scared … … overwhelmed …

…

the reality …

As a side note. I have to point out that I’m lay here, FitBit buzzing like crazy, HR is 115. I’ve not eaten yet, not that I’m hungry it’s just bloody principle. I’m listening to him slurp his drink and munch his lunch. And I wasn’t even offered anything. Not that I ever am. This is the same every single day. Until tea time I have to take care of myself, even though I’m not well enough to do so. A drink, I make them all. Food before 18:00 I get myself. I do all my own laundry, and hanging my laundry up too. And I often make the bed, and when he’s out of the house I always make the bed. In this respect lockdown has been a blessing because, right now and for the last year too, most days he makes the bed.

I actually feel my reality is bloody grim … but maybe better than some …

in conclusion …

Fridays, for me & ME, are utterly shit!

… I absolutely hate Fridays …
… I really hate how I feel on Friday …

 fragmented.ME xXx