no thank you in Each Day

The last week was pretty much dominated by starting my new job and dodging M’s mood throughout the week. And then the weekend arrived and we settled into our usual, happier, pattern. Happier being relative when you’re dealing with two depressed people.

I know I’ve improved a lot. And I’m trying to have sympathy for M, I know he’s trying, both to manage what he’s going through AND to get help. But neither is really working. He’s been waiting for over 2 months to get a proper therapy appointment, even having been identified as “Priority 1” (likely because he’s a threat to others), and it’s still taken this long… Disgusting, pathetic, problematic.

But when we aren’t working and we can slip into our own little world, we’re great.

On Monday we were making dinner and somehow my middle finger ended up under the knife I was using to chop broccoli. Enthusiastically. With a very sharp knife. I called to M, who’d walked into another room, to say I cut myself, likely badly. But I couldn’t look at it because it makes me woozy and pukey. M got me paper towel to staunch the bleeding, and I had to sit down because I was getting light headed. I don’t know why but I was holding my breath. He wrapped my finger, and I worked on breathing consistently. Eventually I felt a little better, so I walked into the kitchen. And then I had to sit down at the kitchen table cause I felt AWFUL. I asked M to get me a bowl cause I was going to puke, and he was like, “just go to the bathroom, puke in the sink”. Except I couldn’t make it to the bathroom, the lightheadedness had come back with a vengeance. Somehow, spitting into this bowl and breathing intentionally I managed to struggle through the nausea. I didn’t puke, and I didn’t pass out. Win.
We briefly discussed going to the hospital. I has zero interest. We had come home and tried some hash (turns out I like hash!) so we were in no state to drive. Even if I had been sober I wouldn’t have been driving.
The next day I went to the gym, babied my finger and somehow made it through the class. I got an appointment to get my finger looked at, and as soon as the guy saw it he was like, nope, that can’t stay like that. He said the best chance I had for recovery before my test on the 14th was taking what remained of the nail off and stitching the whole thing shut. Frustrated and scared, I hesitated to agree, but eventually came around. He froze my finger, and I was done in about 30 minutes. He gave me the rest of the day and the next off to recover. I return to work tomorrow. And the gym.
Remember when I said nothing was going to stop me from doing this test? Yeah, seems like the universe is trying REALLY HARD to make a liar of me.
I had therapy today, until I arrived and found out I didn’t. So that was annoying. I guess Tina had some sort of emergency and she left abruptly during lunch. Reception didn’t bother to call me.
So I went to Reds and we hung out on her couch and watched American Horror Story: New York City until we headed to craft night.
One of Reds antagonists was there, so things got weird until she left. And then we who remained got into a really depressing conversation about politics and the military (a member (me), a spouse, and a contractor). And on that note we parted ways.

M and I have been surfing in separate rooms. We’re getting out Christmas tree tomorrow. :)