“All tied up, no more love and I'd hate to see you waiting...”

In late spring of last year, I was diagnosed with an infection. This has been happening more because Hashimoto's is an auto-immune disorder and so infections aren't just a quick fix for me. Regrettably, the drug they gave me to fight off the infection required me to suspend a number of my other medications to avoid issues. Further, the medication prescribed ruined my sleep schedule. After a weekend where I managed to piss everyone off that I communicated with, I shut down and hauled my ass into my doctor on Monday morning because I felt near psychosis.

The doctor changed my meds and I felt better with a day or two. I apologized to everyone and tried to explain. With one notable exception, everyone was very understanding and told me that they hoped I would get better soon. I didn't and that was the summer of pain and awful until s physical medicine doctor figured out what was wrong.

This past Friday I received an e-mail from my doctor. As SOP, the hospital had taken all the samples and tested them for everything but the kitchen sink.  The lab was able grow a culture and it came up with the same damn infection as I had six months ago. I hadn't even noticed. I was feeling tired and unlike myself, but I chalked it up to end of the year frustrations and stress.

There was no fucking around this time. I didn't just get a different antibiotic, I got the full spectrum, kick your ass for 7 days straight, good shit. I got the stuff that makes superbugs. (I am sorry about that, but I graduated from the 'cillians a long time ago.) I also did not have suspend my regular meds, just watch the timing of when taking them carefully.

I went from feeling a bit tired and grumpy to being in pain and feeling crazy. That is how I spent my weekend. I knew better what to expect this time; so I didn't contact people or text anyone more than necessary. I left LT alone for the weekend. I knew Rope Guy wanted to see me Sunday, but I tried to wiggle out of it. I tried to leave my husband alone as much as possible.

Rope Guy was just the right amount of insistent. I couldn't deal with it, so I asked my husband to make the plans. It all worked out well. Rope Guy kept me company and we watched Wall-E together. Then RG made dinner for me and the whole family. He also poked at me about why I had been so reluctant to have him come over. This is what I came up with:

Two years ago I had trusted my boyfriend to come over when I wasn't feeling well. He had insisted even after I had said that his other partner wouldn't appreciate it. Taking care of me consisted of doing his own laundry and then leaving the next morning when his other girlfriend threatened to break up with him if he didn't show up. There was a whole lot going on behind the scenes that I didn't know about. All I know is that a person that promised I could depend on them instead abandoned me.

A year later was the bad weekend of medications. As I said, most people understood and forgave me. One person refused to do so, saying that we had fallen into a bad pattern again. This is despite the number of times I forgave them similar issues and helped them through. (For example, when they took too much pot, I sat with them in the bathroom for hours. They said some really horrible things, but I didn't take it personally.)

It’s not the fault of one person. These are things that were imprinted as I was growing up. I believe that women of a certain age were taught that we were expected to make excuses for men who were emotionally unavailable or lacked compassion. It was somehow our job to teach them them how to treat the loved ones with care. When they didn't do so, we were to blame.

I know I bought into this idea. I can’t think of how many of my former partners benefited from my ability to explain things in “engineer” speak. There are some exes who I believe owe me a debt of gratitude for putting up with their crap and teaching them how to be a partner. They wouldn't be in the successful relationships they are in now if it hadn't been for me and women like me.

But I can’t blame them; I am responsible for allowing myself to be taken advantage of. The first time someone I’m involved with fucks up, they get an explanation as to why, a chance to apologize and make it right. The second time, I’m gone. They can figure their own shit out. (This is unlikely to happen, but I can try.)

I deserve better than being abandoned or not being forgiven for a perfectly understandable set of behaviors (pattern or not).

The song for this entry was played at today’s assembly and it seemed pretty apropos.

Today's Song - High Hopes by Panic at the Disco