So I have once again tested the limits and flexibility of the man who loves me. I haven’t had a car in over a year. That may not seem like a big deal to you but that just means you don’t know where I live. I live in Effingham (yep, that’s real) and I live far away from everywhere, including my friends. I have also been unemployed since September so I don’t get out much. So basically when Marshall gets home from work I smother him with attention and can’t stop talking, asking him “What are we going to do tonight?” and being a general overwhelming nuisance. Obviously Marshall would crave some time of his own, with his friends and without his girlfriend. He is an amazing man and a great sport and sort of brings me along with him too pretty much every place he goes when he isn’t working. Well I’ve been trying to give him a little more “man time” lately but I admit, it makes me feel very left out and pretty lonely. So the other night when he headed out without me I was feeling pretty crummy about it. I moped around for a while and then curled up in bed for an early evening.
As I was curled up trying to sleep Judah began getting on and off the bed, bumping into me and being a general pain in the ass. I was grouchy and tired and wanted to lay in bed feeling sorry for myself, so I kept telling Judah to go lay down. He was pretty persistent and every few minutes would get up and ruffle my feathers a bit. Well by the time Marshall got home I was exceptionally grouchy and totally feeling even more upset that I had been left behind. So when he came upstairs and tried to snuggle up to me I instantly went into a hostile frenzy. When he reacted poorly to my hostile action I took that as a green light to go into battle mode.
A cranky and frustrated Emilie quickly turned to a hostile and angry Emilie who was calling the very relationship into question. As I began to wake up a bit more I realized how out of line I was being and actually had the thought to check my glucose, 60 mg/dl. “Well THAT’S why Judah was harassing me.” I stuck the straw in my juice and sucked it down quickly.
“I thought something must be going on, you totally flew off at me as soon as I got home!”
Too soon Marshall, too soon. I may have consumed the juice but my glucose is still low, poor Marshall. “You like that don’t you? You love that you can just blame my sugar and not take responsibility for anything. Off the hook. Well maybe you should stop blaming everything on me! God, I don’t even know what we are doing. You don’t even like me, you just stay with me because you feel bad for me.” Terrible isn’t it? That is such a small part of how cruel I can be. Now, keep in mind this whole fight is taking place at nearly midnight and every time Marshall would try to retreat and give me a chance to ‘come down’ I would pursue. I was totally viscous, totally.
When I finally regulated and Marshall felt that it was safe to return to the bedroom he had the pleasure of dealing with the other end of the spectrum. I was a mushy, crying, full of apologies, utter and complete mess. All I can say is I don’t think that I have ever met another man, never mind been in a relationship with one, that would put up with the extreme swings of emotion that I go through when I have a big swing in my glucose. He allowed me to climb into his lap, cry, apologize, cry some more, and tell him that I didn’t mean any of the mean things I said. I can’t imagine the emotional stress this places on Marshall when it happens because I know that I find it exhausting. It must be even worse when you are the target of all the hostility. I am a lucky woman to have him and it’s easy to forget that when things get hard.
All I can say is that when my tax return comes I am buying a car! Yipee, of course I still won’t have a job which means I won’t be able to put gas in the car… I have applied for a bunch of jobs in the past couple weeks though so maybe I’ll get lucky. I think I deserve a little luck and I know Marshall does.