I'm sitting here right now hearing that inner voice of my body sending me every available signal that I need to lay down. But that's not what I'm looking for, not what I want to do. Bedridden isn't living. I've managed to get out of that constant bedridden state, but it hasn't made standing, sitting, walking, or even being alive... easy. So now what?
I don't harbor any false hope of T ever obtaining the ability to be anything other than what he is, or what he chooses to be; lost in a non-compassionate state. He fully embraces indifference, and I believe he does so because, well, it's simply lazy and easier. A lot of men are like this. Too many. He knows he is too and doesn't seem to care that he is. But he rails against the truth even while he admits it, stating that he's very loving and compassionate. Okay. Maybe. But not to me. What this has done over time is make me pull away, and yes I've told him this. I know where this is heading where I'm concerned.
I long for that time when I wasn't dating, in a relationship, when I was fully myself even if my health was failing at that time. And it wasn't all that long ago, really. Time passes, months and years, and I've watched my health fail in a situation that lacks empathy. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?
Many nights I can't sleep because the growing anxiety has bullied it's way into the only respite I used to know---sleep. Dammit.
I wake up tired, spent, worn out, and unmotivated. This isn't going to help me heal and, in fact, will hurt me even more.
Will today, this weekend, be yet another failure on T's part? Will he insist yet again on buying food that hurts my health and ignoring ALL of my doctors' warnings? I can't say I'm optimistic about this.
I'm exhausted trying to be my own champion.
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