Ben is a perfectionist, and he married a perfectionist,
which is a recipe for marital harmony. I think. Except that I am a handicapped
perfectionist.
One trying aspect of living with me (for Ben, and myself) is the
floordrope. I began using this horizontal space in favour of the vertical 5
years ago, the first week that Energy walked out. Our dog took advantage of it and ate lots of
precious underwear. I’ve had to stash my pile of clothes under the doona when the realestate
agent came over unexpectedly, and we generally do house tours which exclude the
bedroom. Sometimes when the mound was dreadfully high I would lie in bed, and
Ben would hang, fold and wash the masses of items. That was love. I find a tidy bedroom absolutely delicious,
but the reality is that I can’t have it all. Ironically when most women talk
about having it all, they mean 'career and family'. I just mean tidy and well.
If I have energy this is where it goes:
1. On personal care – showering and eating, and
spending time with husband.
2. On
cleaning and tidying living area and bathroom, for sanity.
3. On life enrichment activities in the form of
social interaction and crafts/education.
4. Usually
I don’t enter into a fourth category. It is an AWFULLY rare occurrence. It
includes non-essential jobs, hospitality, paid employment, and meal preparation.
Anyway, clothes-putting-away is in Category 4. And the clothes
are currently away.
What I have come to realise is that being able to indulge
cleanliness desires is a luxury.
I am chuffed that
yesterday I put on a whites-load, and hung it out, and today I’m doing blacks. I volunteered for two hours today. I don’t have a floodrope at the moment. I
went to the supermarket yesterday – even though I walked past the corn chips
four times, and nearly called Ben to ask where on earth the olives were, it was
exhilarating.
Ben receives very excited, and terribly boring texts from
his me while he's at work:
“I cleaned the bathroom today! And now I’m practicing.”
“Just went to the supermarket J”
and his favourite of all:
“What’s for dinner tonight?”
Each day with this illness is such a tremendous struggle,
that I can scarce believe it is true when the burden is lifted a little. I am so thankful to be able to venture into Category 4.
The improvement in my quality of life is so delightful that
I struggle with insomnia because I am too hyped to fall asleep. I know, it’s
ridiculous. I find tears on my cheeks because this reprieve is excruciatingly nice after all the pain.
The excited, boring text Ben got today:
“It’s amazing to have the stamina.”
