CW: Strong language, emotional distress, chronic illness, bodily autonomy

What a moron you are! The instructions clearly say: take one antibiotic every 12 hours. How did you read it as one per day?

I don’t know! I’m tired. I got mauled by two cats. I slept like shit. I got a tetanus and rabies shot. I’m sore, chilly, and feverish. My period is tormenting me. And I feel very vulnerable and alone.

Excuses. Always excuses with you. I’m so tired of having to clean up after you. I’m convinced you’d die if I weren’t here.

Sometimes I think I’d rather we die than live with you. You are so mean. I’m barely holding on, and you’re criticizing me.

What the fuck am I supposed to do? I didn’t create the reality we live in. I’m just trying to follow the rules, trying to keep us healthy and safe. It’s very hard doing that with someone who prefers to live in fantasies.

You like my fantasies.

Yes, but there is a time and a place. Right now, I need you to take better care of yourself, be selfish. Mauled by cats! What the actual fuck was that??

I don’t know, I made a mistake. I wanted to grab it and give it up for adoption. I wanted to save the kitty.

But it obviously showed it didn’t want to be touched! You had to do it by surprise! And then, of course, it got scared. It bit you viciously. Did you let go immediately? No, you doubled down!

I know. It was a momentary lapse of reason.

No, dear, it was stupidity. This is what I’m talking about, your bleeding heart. You want to help, but always do it in selfish ways. You think you know what’s best for others. You say I’m mean, but at least I listen when people tell me what they want. You, with your big intellect and moral principles, you think you tower over others. That you can change reality and make others see what you see. I hate this about you.

I know. I don’t want to do this. My intentions are pure.

Are they, though? You refuse to see yourself as you are, only seeing who you want to be. You refuse to look into the shadows. And over and over, they swallow us. Here I am, picking up the pieces. How many times must we start over?

I’m sorry. I already feel like shit. I know I made a mistake, and you’re right. But must you be so cruel? Why can’t we be kind to each other? We share the same body! How can we be happy if we’re always at odds?

We can’t. I cannot collaborate with you. I see no points of compromise. All I see is chronic illness. I have to keep the house clean, the body fed, make sure we have health insurance. I have to find a job, keep a job, pay attention to all these material things. And you’re not helping. All I ask is for some peace and quiet. But you can’t just shut the fuck up, even for a moment!

I can’t help myself! I’m not doing this to hurt us. The thoughts keep coming. The stories keep coming. I never asked for this. The only reason I started writing was because I couldn’t get any respite from my brain. It just keeps going. Going. Going.

Yet you dream of being a big writer. You say you don’t want recognition, but you do. You’d like to be famous. Well, not you yourself, but you’d like your writing to be famous. You say you do it because you can’t stop the talking, and maybe, just maybe, it will help others. But that’s not true, is it? You want the fame and validation. You want Daddy to come and read and say Brava, my love! I was wrong, you are smart and amazing! You want to be as famous as he was. You want people to admire you like they did him.

I’m too tired for this. I’ve been in pain for the last five days. This is making it worse. I just want some peace. Can’t we please let it go for now? I washed the dishes. I took my pills. I’ll cook the salmon. I’ll prepare everything for tomorrow. I’ll clean the wounds. I’ll rest. Please, can you just be kind?

Kindness? No. But I’ll leave you alone with your delusions and lies. Don’t forget to change your tampon!

Well, that was unnecessary.

Was it, though?

Photo by Rosella Deby on Unsplash