Monday is a holiday.
As such, I try to schedule my appointments w/the specialist on state holidays that his office happens to be open--to lessen my pissed-offed-ness about wasting a perfectly good sick day to take care of attending the appointments.
The husband found out today that Monday is a holiday. I suggested he come into the city with me, considering how many times he's asked me, after the fact, questions about my office visit, and about my health et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.
Of course he balked at the idea of him going into the city on a perfectly good day off. Of course! Which then just proves he pesters me about my weight and health etc just as LIP SERVICE, not out of actual concern. How is this not harrassment?
So on Monday, off I'll go, ALONE, to the doctor's appointment. Me and my defective pancreas and secondarily defective ovaries are left on our own. Alone. Like so many family functions I've attended... ALONE. Like I feel every night when I go to bed in my room and he goes in his--because MY snoring disrupts his sleep. Hell, my snoring disrupts my own sleep--leaving me in the morning feeling washed out, physically and emotionally depressed, and fancying simply not being "here" anymore. Not necessarily suicidal thoughts; however, if I were to die in my sleep, it wouldn't be a horrible thing.
Like last night, on the train ride home from the city. I got us tix to see MamaMia. Something I thought he'd appreciate (due to the catchy tunes). He sucked my joy right out of me, and when the joy was gone, I do believe some other things got sucked out too.
I sat on the train next to him, trying to keep it together. Trying not to cry. The tears started to trickle when I thought about how very alone I feel. And granted folks have other folks around them to deceive themselves into thinking they truly are not alone, and for some this works. For me, I just feel even more alone, even more vacant, even more... nonexistent.
And the reality for me is, if I am unable to have a child of my own (which I don't have a huge-ass burning compulsion for), there is a very real possibility that in my golden years, should I attain them, will no doubt be spent ALONE.
There are words on the tip of my tongue, begging to leap off, and yet, I bite my tongue. Pragmatism wins over emotionalism & egoism. And yet, he is oblivious or indifferent to my vulnerability to have my "head turned."
