I’d say I’m a care-taker, in that I take the care that others give now that I’m not totally self-sufficient anymore, but really the only thing I demand is grocery runs. Something my husband hates very much. Luckily, he hates my behavior even more when I’m hangry. When he fears I’ll tear his face off and eat it, he runs to the store with his tail between his legs. Poor fella.
His priorities for house and his own self-care outside of the hobby of the week are extremely low. If I want a clean house, I have to do it. If I want clean dishes, I have to do it. If he wants a burger instead of corndogs, he bats his eyelashes at me, and I char a cow for him. If I can no longer stand the smell emanating from his dirty clothes pile, I have to do it. It has been 3 weeks and I’ve yet to touch that nasty crap, so I hope you’re proud of me.
I take care of my own stuff as much as I can and ask for help if it’s needed. I don’t feel guilty about that anymore, and all of a sudden I don’t feel guilty about quitting my job as his maid.
He steps up when he needs to. There are times I’m so flogged I can’t get out of bed. He makes sure I stay fed and watered, and camps out in the room next to mine so he can hear me if I need him. He’s a good mate. Maybe a little lazy with adulting, but we’re both sort of against the dictated societal norms. Fuck curtains, lawn ornaments, and socializing with the annoying neighbors.
He has been depressed for quite a while, as I’ve mentioned before. The good news is that seems to be working through it and participating in more extracurriculars with his squadron. It’s a nice thing to witness.
Recently, he has been coming home and going straight to bed. He has green circles around his eyes, and he “just feels like complete ass.”
In the past two weeks he has had to leave work early several days because he feels too ill to stay until the end. In our 10 years together, he has never called off sick or ducked out early unless one of us had an appointment.
I’m worried. I wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t. He asked me to be his health guru and put together a magical combo of supplements to make him feel less ass’y. I told him to make an appointment with his doctor, and then we’ll talk.
I understand his apprehension after watching what I’ve been going through, but I reminded him he’s a dude. He’ll get better treatment. Sad for me, huge bonus for him.
Note to caregivers: don’t forget to take care of yourselves!