Relationships with M.E.

It's official. I finally, definitively, officially, actually had a relationship end because I'm sick.
The funny thing is, I never planned on even dating this person, or anyone for that matter, for another year or so, ideally after getting my Disability money and improving the state of my health a little. It just seemed to overwhelming, too scary with risks like these. Too hard to even attempt. Intellectually, I know that there are plenty of chronically ill people, even people with FM & M.E. & even with all the things I have who have spouses. I like to joke that if some of the people on that TV show where they trade spouses can find spouses, then surely there's someone for me, out there, somewhere. I just didn't want to start looking, and potentially failing at it, now.

Things are bad enough now. Today, I had the first episode of generalized anxiety that I can attribute to my hearing coming up. Hate, hate, HATE it. To make things worse, I was too tired to take any anxiety medicine, which tends to make me sleepy, so I had to tough it out. Way too much to do, and was wayy too tired already. Eventually, I went to the gym and worked some of it off there, but I couldn't finish the full time that I set, and my kidneys were already feeling sore. (Recovering from a kidney infection.)

Anyhow. I met this person. Never intended to date him, so I told him all the gory details of my life; my current abode-ally challengedness, my family dysfunction, my illness & ensuing unemployment. I actually thought it might be amusing (in a sick sad sort of way) to see him run off scared. But something strange happened. He didn't. Nothing I said seemed to shock him, and he shared some of the "adventures" of his life as well. Then I started to realize he actually was kind of attractive. He was smart. He gets sarcasm. And we had so much fun, even if it meant I was pushing myself. It was so wonderful to feel alive and wanted again.

It's all so strange. One week he's telling me how much he likes me, can't get enough of me, the next I feel like I'm being avoided. I just am not up to games. To make a long story short, after much frustration and feeling like a crazy, needy, mess of a girl and hating myself for it, I ended it. Or I thought I did. It wasn't too hard after being questioned about what I thought our lives together would be like in 5 years, what would I be able to contribute. I can't work, I can't clean... I was blown away. The crazy thing is, I understood the logic. It's what I would think too. But I would think it a lot sooner, not after one or both of us is starting to fall for each other. Still, I was speechless. True, or not, it still seemed a bit heartless, and worse, completely unexpected, considering I'd laid it out on the table from thebeginning. I'm afraid I was too shocked to defend myself, so I said we should call it off.

Ironically, he would let me go. Right when I'm getting the wounds covered and healing, he starts sending me messages saying he misses me, and I melt.

Earlier today, I was wondering how I was going to get through the next week without having a nervous breakdown. Last hearing, I was anxious for days, and I usually don't stress over things like that till the last minute, when it's too late. Then afterwards, I just felt so exposed, fragile, I kept asking my poor Mother for copious amounts of hugs, and cuddling with the puppy.
Today, I felt so alone for awhile, in all this. And the guy kept texting, but was back to not answering mine...coming up with excuses not to see me. I decided I couldn't stand the confusion and anxiety anymore, so i asked him and it came down to this: If I can't work, and I can't clean house, I'm not a "fit" for him. Rationally, well, it's very rational. But to me, love is more than rational. He kept trying to corner me into saying I would work or clean. But really, I can't make those promises. If there's one thing this illness has taught me, is that sometimes, you can plan all you want, and well..."the best laid plans"...Life has other ideas. Besides, it seemed just too rigid, almost controlling.

I asked, So does this mean you don't believe I can't work and/or I'm not worthy of love because I can't do those things? The answer," no, it just means you're not a fit for me.'I suppose it's possible. And it hurts. But I half suspect it's just cowardice. Fear. An excuse, and a cruel on at that. (And where was this conclusion when I was spilling my guts?)

I could've just said I'd do it, but I don't know, and I don't lie easily. And I don't want to have to trick someone into falling in love with me. Not only don't I not know, what life with M.E. will bring,  but I've gotten to the point where it almost seems arrogant to be so rigid in planning that you really believe things will turn out some way because you planned it. I can't plan anything. Even with the case won, the money, medical care, there are no guarantees, although I have faith, believe it will happen, and believe I can recover at least part of my health and be productive again.
But life with M.E. is in constant flux. So I need someone who will take me as I am. Take all the love I have to give, the smiles I bring to your face, the food I'd love to prepare, my arms around you, my lips on yours. Take the love I have waiting for your children, the joy I bring to holidays I've long missed celebrating properly. Take my listening ear. Let me cheer you up when you're down, take everything I still have to give, I think it would be enough, but if you don't, if your fear and need to control doesn't allow it, I just ask to be left alone, once and for all, to nurse my wounds and steel myself for the week ahead. No more head games, false hope, rational words that cut me to the quick. I'll be fine. I can hardly believe this is happening, especially 6 weeks in to a relationship, it seems bizarre to be forced to plan our future 5 years from now, but I'll be fine. I have more important things to worry about and plenty to keep me busy. I'm so tired of stress. My kidneys are killing me now...
Oh well. I will survive, I will thrive, and I will rise again. And maybe the fear and cowardice of really loving someone will wear off him when I am doing as well as I hope, but it'll be too late...

"One day [I'] 'll have a beautiful life, one day, [I]'ll be the sun, in somebody, else's eyes..." Paraphrased from Black, by Pearl Jam