-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
flubadoo
I asked my husband to bring me back a glass pipe or a stone for my rock collection, but all he brought back from his vacation for me was influenza. I have been sick for over two weeks now. I was beginning to wonder if I might die. I never had the flu before, and I hope I never get it again.
His entire vacation was selfish. I am sorry he had such a shit time, but that's what comes out of being so completely selfish. And part of why I didn't want to travel was because I've been so sick in the past few months. And ironically, I get sicker than I have ever been in my life and I don't even get the fucking vacay.
I had a shit year too. I could have used a real vacation too.
He acted like he had to go on a mental health vacation because 2018 was so stressful. That most of why it was stressful was because I was depressed and angry. Whatever. More selfishness.
He acted like getting away from me was part of the vacation, but after one and a half days of being gone, all I heard from him was how sick he was, how he wished he was back home, how he missed me.
He doesn't realize he gets psychotic and just wanders off, can't find his way home. He doesn't realize how often he has seizures. He gets to live in this little bubble where he doesn't have to fully deal with his illnesses, but I do. I have to worry and try to keep him safe and deal with the reactions of someone who doesn't fully understand what is going on in this reality. He doesn't realize how I am constantly working to keep him safe and sane.
He's lucky he made it home. He's lucky he didn't have to go to a Colorado hospital. He's lucky he didn't pass out on the street from his 103 degree fever and get mugged or worse.
I don't get a real vacation. I don't get away. Not really. So fuck it. I'm not going to work this year. I don't care if I spend all my money. I am going to try to enjoy this year. Make this entire year my selfish fucking vacation.
Last year I was constantly sick. I was constantly battling a psycho husband. I was battling myself after the death of both my parents. I did nothing. NOTHING. I may not have had to work at a shit job, but I wouldn't say that I had fun.
I'm going to have fun this year if it fucking kills me.
9:03 PM - Thursday, Jan. 24, 2019
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------