Things were going reasonably well this evening. I went to a happy hour gathering with some coworkers in the foreign language department. I got to talk about meeting my husband, which was lovely (and they loved it). I couldn’t really eat well, because the food there was bothering me, but I managed some cereal and bagel and cream cheese when I got home. Not ideal, but still decent. Especially so, considering how late I was out and about (after 6pm) after a school day, as well as how late I was up at home (it’s now close to 11pm).
I hung with my husband a bit in the backyard on the driveway. We even sat in the trailer together and chatted while I ate cereal and he drank a beer. It was lovely. Oh, and I got to watch him move a 500lb tire. That was cool.
But, when I got out of the trailer, I was rushing because my husband had started shaking the thing, forgetting that shaking makes me super nauseous. He had stopped for the moment, but the aftershock was still happening a touch, and I wasn’t sure he wouldn’t mess with it again and unintentionally make things worse for my stomach. I stepped over the edge without seeing that there was a piece sticking out on the outside of the trailer there, and the piece sticking out had two large bolts protruding from it. So, I nailed myself both underneath and on the side of the knee with one of those bolts. I ended up with two distinct circular red and swelling spots within minutes, one of them including two very swollen scratches. So, that sucked. Oh, and then I cried kind of she’d because it ended up hurting quite badly for a few minutes, once the pain set in.
But okay. Not terrible.
Then we go inside and hang together briefly, touching skin, so I can feel better as a whole. I go shower to get ready for bed finally, and he goes to the store.
And then, I have a total freak-out over the toilet after my shower. I won’t get into it, but OCD got me hard this time. I was washing and washing my hands, and even my arms and elbows. And it just kept getting progressively worse for me.
Just as I was wondering what I was going to do, from a very practical standpoint of solving the issue, I saw my phone light up to show that my husband was just arriving home.
Thank you, God.
I voiced a message over to him, asking for help, since I could t touch my phone without freaking. (Or anything, for that matter.) But no response.
I went and found him outside. He was weed-eating. When he finally paused long enough, I called to him and he said he could come help me with something.
He often gives me trouble when dealing with an OCD thing for me. He tends to see it as something that I can just power through, and all will be well. To degrees, I certainly can. But not on true panic stuff. And this was one of those things.
However, he truly listened when I told him how I was struggling with something and I both needed his help and I needed him not to be mens or make faces about it, and that I was so sorry to have gotten us into sick a situation. He accepted my words and my request to go clean the toilet bowl and then remove the towel hanging in the bathroom. He confirmed he understood details, and then got right to it.
I made as much noise as I could manage across the house, aiming to get it as out of mind as possible. When he had finished and I went back into the bedroom, all was well and I was able to operate again.
But it was a bad situation. I had been washing myself over a dozen of times already, and was on the brink of just getting back into the shower and starting again, after he had cleaned the toilet first, of course. I was very much not okay.
And I’m not sure I’ve had a situation like this in years, let alone with him around. I am so grateful for how he handled it without pressing me or guilting me.
Thank you, God, for my husband. Help us both be the best people we can be. Help us to pursue and fulfill your will with and through one another. Make me and the baby well and safe, please. Keep my husband safe. In your name, I pray. Amen.
hannah ananas 