It's Always Something With You

I am lucky in that the majority of my family understand my problems.  They have taken the time to learn about them, and they are sympathetic to the pain that I live with every day of my life.  My husband lives with a chronic illness and he is very respectful, for the most part, of the things that I go through.  My two youngest children do every thing they can to help make my life easier.  Of course, there is always that exception to the rule, and my exception is my oldest son.

Today, I am not feeling well at all.  My back and legs are really hurting and my bursitis in my right shoulder is acting up.  I'm having a lot of pain, and my medication isn't doing a lot to relieve that pain.  Just a short while ago, I had to go pick Chris up at a friend's house.  While I was waiting for him to come out to the car, I took a few minutes to call my pharmacy to check on one of my medications.  I was still on the phone when he got in the car, and he asked me who I was talking to.  Since I was on hold, I told him what I was doing.  His response was to roll his eyes, and tell me that I take too much medicine.  I held my tongue and didn't respond, because this is Chris's normal response to me.

As we were driving, I made a turn and said "Ouch!".  The turn aggravated my shoulder, which is where I have bursitis.  Chris asked me what was wrong, and I told him that my bursitis was acting up.  Well, that did it.  Chris looked at me with disdain and said, "Geez!  It's always something with you!  First, you have a bad knee, then a bad back!  Now you have that stupid fibro and restless leg syndrome!  Why do you need to add on something else?"  My immediate response was to yell at him!  I said, "Do you think I enjoy this?  Do you really think I'm having fun, hurting all the time?  I can't help what's going on with my body, and I'm not making this up!"

Now, his opinion shouldn't bother me.  He's 19 years old, and as a general rule, most boys of this age are genetically stupid, and if we're lucky, they grow out of it.  I also know that my son is very judgmental,  and chooses to believe that most of my physical problems are products of my imagination.  I have tried to educate him about what's going on with me, but he chooses not to believe me.  And even though I know these things, my feelings are hurt every time he makes one of his snide comments.

I also had to make a stop on the way home to pick something up.  I told him this, and he demanded that I take him home before I made my stop.  I refused because it was out of my way.  Well, he complained the entire time!  Again, I wasn't surprised.  This stop took less than five minutes, and we were only another five minutes from the house.  Once we got home, I asked him to carry the bag into the house.  Well, this was another chance for my son to slam me.  He muttered that the only reason I insisted he go with me was to make him carry the bag into the house.  And he added something about me being lazy.  I tried to grab the bag out of his hand at this point.  Childish on my part, I know, but I had just had enough!

Chris kept the bag and carried it in the house.  I sat in the car for a few minutes, because I had started to cry and I didn't want to be crying when I went in.  Chris and his Dad are not getting along well at all, and I knew if I was crying when I walked in, it would start another huge argument between the two of them, and I just didn't feel like dealing with that on top of everything else.  I have to admit, as I sit here writing this, the tears are starting to come again.

It hurts to have someone you love so much have absolutely no compassion for what we are going through.  It hurts to be told that we are over exaggerating the pain that we live with day in and day out.  It hurts to be told that we are making these things up just to get more attention.  It hurts to be so completely dismissed.

Compared to some, I am lucky.  I only have to deal with one person feeling these things about me.  Many others get no compassion from the people in there lives.  They are living completely alone, even in a house full of people.  My heart goes out to each of you going through this.  I can't imagine not having anyone who will look at you and tell you that they are sorry that you are suffering.  And maybe, it is always something with me, but I didn't choose any of these things that I deal with each and every day.  I would give almost everything I have to live a normal, pain free life.  But unfortunately, that isn't the path I have been given.  I will keep trying to develop a thicker skin, but being told that it's always something with you just leaves one more scar on my soul.