Thursday, September 18, 2014

Sometimes I feel invisible

I was going to say "sometimes I feel dead", but that sounds way more frightening than I want to sound.  Too dramatic.

Anyone who has spent any time with me has heard me say how much I enjoy a clean house.  Bathrooms.   Kitchens.  Refrigerators.   Floors.  Tables.  Counter tops.    I even like doing the cleaning myself.  But not so much when there are always people around who don't notice.  Or don't care.  Or just don't get it.   Most people I know are more casual about these things I guess.  

And even though I look fine, and seem to have energy, I am still recovering from brain surgery.  BRAIN SURGERY!  Holy cow!  I tire easily.  I get sad easily.   I feel overwhelmed easily.

I occasionally ask for help.  Somehow it feels like asking for a birthday gift.  It means so much more when it is given just because it will make me happy that as an answer to an order or request.

Am I being passive aggressive?  I don't honestly know.  

I feel like if I were to vanish.  Just poof and be gone, nobody would really notice.  No, I don't mean if I die necessarily.   I just mean if I decided that I didn't want to live here, in this life, in this house, life would go on.   Nobody would clean the toilets, but it would be alright because nobody would notice.  And there wouldn't be a nag telling them.    The bills would go unpaid and the electricity, gas and water would all be turned off.  The trash would stop being picked up.  

I feel like I am having a bit of a pity party.  And I feel I have earned it.  

Last week I put up a list of goals for the week.  A sort of chore list.  But, since it did not specifically say that they were chores, just things I would like to see getting done, nobody even looked at the list.  

Am I doing something wrong?   yes, I am.  I know that I can ask for certain things, chores if you will, to be done.  But if they are not done, and I ask again, I am nagging.  I get told that "I do a lot around here". 

One day last week, when I was upstairs resting, I heard the vacuum cleaner being run.  I thought someone had sent their cleaning service to the wrong house or there were dirt thieves in the family room.  No, it was Nick.  he decided that it would be nice to clean up without asking.  Nick, it was nice.  It was thoughtful.  It was a kind and wonderful thing to do.   And I didn't feel so invisible that day.

On another subject, before the thought leaves me:   I have been saying that I don't feel anything had been really all that life changing since the surgery.  I am just the same old me.   It's funny because I was reading what I wrote a couple of weeks after surgery.  Back then I said that I was changed forever because my brain had been handled and muddled about.     So, maybe something profound has happened and I have just integrated it into all the rest of the jumbled up stuff in my attic

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