There's reasons for that. Asking for help and getting slapped down. With Ron, asking for help and getting abused for it; having it used against me long term.
Who could forget my depression of 2006 - it was horrible. I wrote a poem, which I've lost, about being on a ship in flames in the middle of the sea and that's how it was. I told Ron I was battling suicide. He said "I couldn't".
Meaning, he needed me and I wasn't allowed to have my own needs. I gave him the things I could use, like knives, medication, etc. He turned that around one day, he wanted me to "play" be active and happy and bubbly to him because after all I had the honor of being his wife...I couldn't play the game.
He went in the other room, came back, handed me a knife, screamed "Why don't you do it?!"
That's pretty much how it's gone in my life asking for help.
Now, I'm fine. I'm living my life. I am sick today and I wish I had someone to fuss over me but I'm not likely to get it.
It's progressing into a headache so I'm going to call it a migraine. I ate and took some Excedrin hopefully that will help, and i'll lie down again with the cats.
Biscuit and Cleo have been real naptime companion champs. You saw I got my loving from Spotty.
I can't call in tomorrow so whatever this is has to pass tonight. Ugh.
No comments:
Post a Comment