Sometimes The Disease Is Worse Than The Cure

So--I'm into day 2 of having this cold, and I'm actually feeling slightly better. I still have a tendency to look at any sort of project (emptying the dishwasher, for example, or sorting the cases and cases of Girl Scout cookies for delivery) and feel what little energy I have go whooshing out of my body, leaving me feeling like an old balloon. And, yes, I find myself muttering "Oh God!" under my breath when I have to remain vertical for more that about three minutes.

But! I am not coughing! And I am not so congested! Now it's just my brain that feels like it's been replaced with cotton batting, and not my entire head and sinus cavity that are packed! This is improvement!

Also, Mr. Sweetie and I had a bit of a disagreement this morning. Not a hissed fight, where you yell at each other like snakes, in the misguided hopes of not alarming the children. Not a full volume holler and stomp argument. Not, this was a civilized disagreement, where Mr. Sweetie pointed out to me that I had failed to hold up my end of the social contract in getting the kidlets ready for school. He smiled--a brilliant and shiny smile--and ended with "I need your help."

Okay, so Mr. Sweetie did not have a disagreement--I did. But did I say anything? NO! OF COURSE NOT! Because I can never articulate my thoughts at a time like that. So instead, I SMILED and NODDED MY HEAD! Okay, it probably wasn't anything like a pleasant smile--more a smile of clenched jaw and gritted teeth. My nod wasn't so much agreement, as it was sullen and grumpy! Yes! The most adult way of resolving conflict! Passive aggression is such a healthy way to participate in a relationship!

Shakespeare said it: "One may smile, and smile, and be a villain."

But---but---I'm sick, right? And by rights, I should have still been in bed, right? The fact that I was even up and had done ANYTHING AT ALL to forward the progress to school should have earned me mucho parental award points. Yes, while Mr. Sweetie needed me to help get the kidlets organized and fed and medicined and hair-brushed and backpack packed---which I usually do--

Well, today, I needed him. I needed Mr. Sweetie to organize himself AND the kidlets today. I felt scolded for not doing my job, when I was doing all that I could--and more than I should have been doing. I should have been in bed. I should have been resting and healing so that I could get well. I should not have been the party responsible for making sure that kidlets were ready for school.

But--you know what? I learned something about myself. I learned something good--that I am emotionally stronger and healthier than I have been in the past. Not so long ago, I'd have responded to Mr. Sweetie's (usually reasonable) request with an explosion of the pain and anger that was simmering inside me. Depression is not just sadness, after all, but is sometimes fury and hurt that lashes out at people--like, "how DARE you ask me to change anything when I'm doing the best that I can! You should just feel a little bit of the pain I'm feeling so I'm going to show you!"

I didn't do that! How pacifistic of me!

Nor did I feel that "kicked in the solar plexus" feeling that was also quite common. The deflating sense that no matter how hard I tried, I was just a failure. That I was incapable of doing any better than I was doing, and that I had no way of communicating that--I was just going to keep failing and disappointing everyone I cared about. Feeling like that used to put me to bed for at least 24 hours, just to rebuild a little bit of ego to try again.

I didn't do that either! How non-"conflict averse" of me!

Instead, I just realized that we each had a different understanding of how much I was going to be able to do this morning. Mr. Sweetie had gotten started late, and was running late, and I wasn't able to keep track of time and what needed to be done. So, he had needed my help at the EXACT SAME TIME I needed him to take over for me. Plus, while a cold will knock me flat on my ass for three days, they never even slow him down--no wonder he didn't realize that he was dealing with a virtual zombie this morning.

I'm so proud of myself! Okay, not so proud of the passive-aggressive thing--but I'm working on it!