The Downside of Care-Taking

All relationships have their ups and downs.  Heaven knows that DSB and I have had our share.  For the past two months, things have been very tense because DSB has been laid up and I have been caretaking, working, and running a household.  All by myself.  Did I mention the waiting on hand and foot part of it?  Stressful.  Miserable.  Made all the more miserable by his miserable attitude.

I understand being in pain.  I understand not feeling good.  What I don’t understand is taking frustration with that out on your partner.  I really don’t.  I can forgive a lot of it, but sometimes it’s just like, “Really?  Seriously?”

DSB came home from the hospital on Thursday evening.  He was in good humor, we had a crap dinner from McDonald’s, and pretty much went to bed.  I worked Friday and he called, asking where his truck keys were.  Well, I really didn’t know off the top of my head and couldn’t really see why it was so urgent that I find them, so I told him I would find them when I got home from work.

When I was leaving work, I found them in my glove box.  I texted this to DSB and he replied about how he never should have left something “so important” with me and he should have taken care of it himself.  Whatever.  They weren’t lost and it wasn’t like he was getting ready to take his non-running truck on a joyride.

When I got home, we almost immediately left for his doctor’s appointment and there were a lot of sighs and moans on the way, as he criticized my driving, claiming I was taking rough roads just to cause him pain.  Sure, that’s what I’m doing.  Makes total sense.  Then he was grumpy in the doctor’s office because I asked some questions.

By the time we got home, things were very tense.  DSB seemed to be oblivious, but I was reliving all of his little comments.  We ate dinner and went to bed.  We left the night off on a good note, so I was hopeful for the morning.

I woke up this morning and had breakfast and coffee.  I then went in to see DSB and he asked me to run out and get him biscuits and gravy.  I told him I didn’t want to leave twice in one day (because it is fracking cold out) and that we could combine the grocery shopping trip and his biscuits and gravy run into one trip.

I was then accused of not caring about him, not putting him number one, and being selfish.  Okay then.  Two can play this game.  I had no desire now to be in the same house as him the rest of the day, so I called my mom and told her I was coming into work and then I would hang out with her in the afternoon.

No, it’s not my scheduled day to work, but we have recently totally revamped the store and there are still many things that need to be put away and organized.  So, there is a valid excuse to go to work, other than to get away from the house.  I actually like all of the little organizing and putting things away into their place.

I told DSB my plan to go to work at 10:00am and then spend the afternoon with mom.  He grunted something at me, not sure what, other than I think it was just to say he heard me.  I told him that I’d run get him biscuits and gravy when I left and he said to just forget it.  He knew that he was not important to me.  That I only do things if they serve me.

So, my plan is to totally stop doing anything for DSB.  Maybe once that is taken away, he will see how much I do for him, and possibly apologize, although I doubt it.  I guess what I am saying is that, at this point, I am not willing to bend over backwards to help  him out as I have been doing for the past two months.

Want a drink of water?  A pillow?  Something fall on the floor?  Get it yourself.  He is supposed to be moving around because of the blood clots, so here’s his opportunity.  I think it will be beneficial for him to fend for himself for awhile.

That, and I’m just pissed and fed up.  I don’t think I’m wrong in feeling that, and even so, I don’t really care at the moment.