If I have to be so sick, I sure wish I could do it somewhere else. This is a terrible place for me to be sick. Two of the three children got sick. They are both well now. The husband is sick. I think he might be even sicker than I am. He is passed out cold on the couch trying to sleep it off. It'll work if he's lucky. For some reason, that never works for me. I just have to wait for it to pass. I tried the typical stuff that usually helps to some degree, but it's not doing much. I think, more than anything, I just long for comfort. There isn't any to be had here. There isn't any because I am the provider of comfort and I am too sick to provide. To top it all, I had a bad run of things before I even caught the cold, so I was set up to be extra miserable before I was even ill. I have a hard time keeping things up to reasonable standards when I have a lot of difficulty with my problems. The distress makes me unable to function well enough to take good care. I try really hard, but it's just not good enough.

I suppose I should just be glad that I am able to take care of the children. I helped S with her math project, cooked the frozen pizzas they like, and started putting away a load of laundry that has been sitting around since my shit hit the fan. I guess it's easier to ignore sickness than it is to ignore nightmares, flashbacks, and emotional pain. Still, I wouldn't exactly say that I am totally 'ignoring' this. I'm tired and weak, I'm stuffy, the pressure in my face and ears hurts terribly, and I really long for comfort. Maybe if I could sink into a bath, or make something to eat for myself, or pamper myself in some way. The problem is that I would first have to wash the gross bathtub and I don't feel good enough to do that, I would first have to wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen, etc, etc, etc.

Things were already falling into disarray before I got sick because I ran into my own problems. I told myself I was doing alright trying to keep doing a few things. I really did try, I kept moving, but it wasn't good enough because there are five people in this house and only one is equipped and willing to take responsibility to keep things going. That's not enough when trouble hits. It's enough to keep bare necessities - the children are still fed and listened to, they are still supervised, I still remind them to brush their teeth and things like that if a reminder is needed, and they are all old enough to bathe themselves, but... If I'm bad enough off, not much else happens. The really sad thing is that I did not really realize clearly that my function had slipped as bad as it did. I was too busy trying to Be Okay, too busy trying to keep my body moving, trying to recover, make sure my head stayed above water. Now I am sick and I see. I see that I can't take a bath without first washing the nasty bathtub, that I can't eat without washing the dishes first...

If my husband could read this (and wasn't too sick to care), he would be upset. He would say, "I helped. You asked me to wash the dishes and I did." Yes, he did. And they were very greasy and still had food on them. Now I feel like I probably caught the cold because of gross things like that and it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't fallen down on the job. I just want comfort. Why is that so wrong? It feels like it must be wrong somehow or it wouldn't be so unattainable. I'll try to figure it out while I wash the dishes.