I guess I am disappointed. Yeah, I'm disappointed. Just when you think someone's finally got it they really don't. I'm alone in this fight called life.
Yes, we should be able to handle our own battles, to an extent, I was just hoping that he finally realized what I go through but I keep on going. I was wrong.
I don't love him any less I just know that he can't deal with it. He can't. That's ok. It has to be because I love him. I'm used to being alone in things.
People say they are there but when it comes to crunch time they will do the backstroke and I find out who I can really count on, only myself.
I hate with every being in my body being chemically sensitive. I'm losing my spontaneity because things have to be planned. I hate knowing my symptoms won't get any better. My reactions are more severe. I try things that can make me better or react to and then I don't feel very well. I'm afraid to eat, go for a walk, see my husband or leave the house.
I hate being alone.
Oh the scroundrels I have had in my life. A couple not scroundrels at all, just stereotyped.
