So my day. Did not sleep well last night, too much caffeine today.
Got up, did all this for Ron:
Fed
Dressed
Medicated x3
Got him to vehicle, instructed driver to back in to make for easier loading
Took him to work
Took him INTO work
Set him up stocking (glove on injured hand) for hours, fetching supplies on demand
Brought him home
More medication
[not going to talk about that]
Took him to his bedroom
Helped him undress
Cared for cats
So I'll just leave that. I worry a little about Baby Girl and Torbie because I hardly ever see them eating cat food. I think they pester Ron for treats, instead.
They cannot live on treats. So I have been trying to tempt them to eat cat food now. When I opened up the can of fishy wet cat food I split it onto two plates and put one in front of Baby Girl. She walked away.
Frustrating. Mama and her gang did eat most of it, though. They are certainly getting plenty of probiotics. Mama is currently laying next to my chair, very cute. I don't need lap cats (they are nice) as long as they are nearby cats. That, I love the most.
My love language is very much Quality time. That's great on a budget or with a pet because I just like the company.
Ron is acts of service. One reason he gets so happy when he sees me doing the litter box.
I was exhausted. I took a nap. Ron did take his antibiotic this morning and again just now. We had a full stock and a huge soda delivery, 55 cases, or well over half a pallet. I found space for all of it.
I did most of what I came to do. They were getting ready to have another "event" at work with free food again, super frustrating, NOT the union this time but the actual managers as mandated by THEIR management. It is the CFC campaign, they fund raise for various agencies. The agencies are invited to come and talk about what they do and try to get people to pick them for donations.
I prefer to keep my donations private, as I told Ron. No one but God and my bank know what I am doing. I like it like that. I just don't believe in making a spectacle of my charity (Bible Handouts not withstanding).
So they told us to clear out, we did. The machines were not bad but not great either. I did get stuff like the granola bars, crackers, snickers, chips, etc. stocked. I didn't get a chance to do the protein shakes.
We left, it was really nice out, upper 70's, humid and cloudy. Just a lovely day. I told Ron that is one problem I have when I'm depressed, I never go outside, and that is not good. However, I have to when on public transit so that is a bonus.
The driver had some trouble securing Ron but Ron was nicely assertive "I am moving, I don't want to move" and they got it sorted out. Drivers really and truly hate securing a wheelchair in the back compartment. But my aunt made a good point recently when she said Ron looks utterly awful transferring into and out of a car. I thought it was just me but no, he looks that bad/unsafe. Better to ride in the back and NOT fall. He is not a young man.
We got home fine and I got him to bed after a trip down the hall. I fed the cats as I said and took a nap. I had a hard time falling asleep and the caffeine kept me partly alert.
Ron had to take 2 business calls and I decided to get up. I took a photo of his leg (see other post) with his permission and I gave him his antibiotic. We only have less than a week on that.
I need to sort out some changer money for Ron. I am going to the store tomorrow to get his medication, and some cat food. For some reason Delivery will not bring the large bag of Iams. And my cats eat a lot!
Ideally there will be enough for a cab both ways. Worst case I will take a cab home. I don't have a lot of disposable, I put it in my account because I need to start getting Christmas presents. Let me go count it and see what we got.
Enough for a cab both ways. Ron didn't want it so I put it aside and then I will give it to him later.
I washed my hands after handling the money and then sprayed a little perfume on my arms. I love perfume but I work with food and I can't do that at work. Ron is very finicky about allergies and scents. For a long time every perfume I liked had an association with a woman he either did, or wished he had. It was very frustrating to have him forbidding them.
Anyway, I love Tea Rose. I seldom wear it even though I have a nice big bottle. My grandmother wore it so I don't use it around my aunt. Ron says it smells like "old ladies". But he's asleep and I am by myself and I am very happy in my cloud of rose scented fragrance.
I fed the cats (again). Cleo is very happy on her condo and let me pet her a few times, even purring while I did so. She has really made a remarkable recovery. She reminds me of an abused child learning to run, play, hug, again.
I need to clean the boxes but I will wait until Ron wakes up because I will need to move his wheelchair. I don't want him jumping up, needs to use the bathroom, and the chair is not there. Oh no! Too late!
Better to tell him when he's awake. I suppose I could do the other 6 boxes and then get to that one when he's awake. I will probably go do that.
16 comments:
F*ck Ron. I can see you’re already back to talking highly of him again “Ron’s love language”. Screw him.
Just stating a fact, everyone has a love language and ours are not the same. I am taking care of him today but not feeling/thinking highly of him.
Classic Heather. When Ron is awful she will always back him a few days later.
I almost posted 2 days ago “within three days either a post how he respects me or a post on how good he is to the cats.”
Heather won’t leave ever. She doesn’t respect or love herself despite the fact she should.
One request. Can you please stop saying you manage your bipolar? I have it and have been fighting my whole life. FIGHTING. Something you never do. You are an awful witness for it. You don’t want help or to manage it. I used to think you did, but no way.
Ugh.
As other readers have said before, I’m done.
I read from 2010-now.
It’s too sad watching someone I like and respect let this piece of garbage drag them down and not care. I’ll pray for you, but it’s depressing as hell to read that you accept abuse from this idiotic, worthless man.
It’s tough to read Heather.
i'm going to disagree with you, Bipolar. I fight like hell every day.
I don't post every little detail like I used to but I have the worst complications you can have, I make life livable, take care of my business (in a very literal sense).
You think I have to do A, B, C to manage it. Including, likely, throwing Ron to the curb. That is not my moral code. My doctor, very well respected in the field, says I am "very stable" and shows me off as a model patient because I TAKE MY DAMN PILLS and don't drink/use. That is all, at the end of it, 'we" really need to do to fight.
"Fighting bipolar" does not necessarily mean fighting every person in my life.
Even serial killers and rapists are capable of doing good things. Many have families but they are still evil and should be locked up in jail. With your logic all women and men who are abused should stay with their abuser because they sometimes act kind and loving. You have a twisted view about what love and respect is because of your mother and father. Your father still doesn't value you as a person because he said don't ask me to choose between you and ron. So i understand why you are staying with him. It is what you learned and you don't know any different.
Fighting bipolar means doing what’s best for you and your diagnosis. You do neither.
Saying you do neither is too harsh, but honestly until you leave Ron you aren’t helping yourself to the level you should. You willingly live with an abuser.
We will agree to disagree on what is best for me.
I HAVE TO LIVE WITH MY CHOICES. Do you think I could sleep at night, ANYWHERE, knowing I did not do 110% what I could to help him? That is really it in two sentences, why I stay.
I wouldn't tell another person to stay or not. In many cases leaving is the only option.
There was a guy at my former church. He came home one day and his family was gone. He interrogated his mother in law who told him they had left him for their own safety, and the women's center had helped. She didn't know where they were and wouldn't tell him. He was so baffled and couldn't see what he had done wrong. All he would admit was he had been verbally abusive. BUT when it came time at court for visitation he was only granted supervised. I think a lot more was going on than he let on. I also think his wife ABSOLUTELY did the right thing leaving him.
This is the man who came to my house about 10 years ago and told me I couldn't blog anymore, and gave us marriage advice.
Out of all the people in the church, they picked that guy to give me marriage advice, which I did not take, clearly.
I HAVE TO LIVE WITH MY CHOICES. Do you think I could sleep at night, ANYWHERE, knowing I did not do 110% what I could to help him? That is really it in two sentences, why I stay.
YES BECAUSE HE DOESN'T LOVE YOU AND IS TERRIBLE TO YOU, 100% OF THE PEOPLE ON THIS BLOG THINK THAT, 100% OF NORMAL PEOPLE THINK THAT, HE'S BEEN TERRIBLE TO YOU FOR YEARS.
What does that church story have to do with anything?
I HAVE TO LIVE WITH MY CHOICES. Do you think I could sleep at night, ANYWHERE, knowing I did not do 110% what I could to help him? That is really it in two sentences, why I stay.
I left a man who was abusing me that had bad diabetes. It's an anchor that keeps you tied to him. He's human scum. You are CHOOSING this life.
Never complain about him again, because you won't leave and want it.
Church story to illustrate I see why leaving is the only option some times. If it is bad enough the judge orders supervised visits it is time to go.
Heather, You can't fix him. 110% wouldn't even be enough. It would be kinder in the long run to put him in a nursing home where he can dry out, get proper medication for pain control and he could get some therapy. He has personal demons that are tormenting him. Out of love, we do the hard things that will help others. Out of love I had to call CPS on my only child to get her off drugs. I could have looked the other way, I could have pretended it wasn't happening and she couldn't keep a job. Out of love, I did the hardest thing in my life, to call the police on my only child. She was killing herself. I'd do it again in a heartbeat.
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