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Really not sure what to do with this, so I’m doing this. I guess. Sigh.
We’re finally on vacation. We made it. After four misfires last year, four attempts to go out of town that got canceled, we have put all our karmic mojo into Mexico, and we made it. We are here. It is beautiful, the ocean is making colors on the horizon, the water is cool, and the breeze is lovely. We have successfully put ourselves in the terrarium and we are letting other people take care of us. It’s weird and kind of awkward sometimes, but it’s so good. So good to not have to cook or clean or do dishes. Sleep however long we want and whenever we want. Eat as much as we want without guilt or worrying about grocery shopping.
And water. There is water. I came to be immersed in water, and I am succeeding. Just floating in the pool is all I could have asked for. There is nothing else going on, and it is blissful.
Yesterday was absolutely brilliant.
Today, we went to breakfast, and Lisa almost couldn’t eat. She was sweating and dizzy and I was worried. I pumped cold water into her and took her back to our room. Closed the balcony door and cranked up the AC. I’ve seen heat exhaustion. I know what it looks like and it fucking sucks. I though she was going to faint. I got her onto the bed, made her lay down, and told her to nap in the cold. I rescheduled our massages, the only thing we have scheduled. I put on the single sweater I brought for the plane and laid down next to her, so she could see me, so I’d be right there if she needed me. Half an hour later, she sat up in an attempt to get to the bathroom, and threw up all over her side of the bed. Gross, but not unexpected. That’s how heat exhaustion works. You feel like shit, you puke, you feel better. It fucking sucks, but it’s how it goes. I called housekeeping, they’re remaking the bed as I type, and it’s fine.
And Lisa is hiding in the bathroom because she’s embarrassed. And I don’t know how to tell her there is no need to be embarrassed. That is not the feeling she needs right now. But she’s freaking out and she’s a mess and I keep waiting for her to cry, but she won’t. Because that’s embarrassing. She won’t stop apologizing. And I don’t know how to make her understand that there is nothing, nothing for her to apologize for.
This is something that happens. It sucks. We deal. Honestly, I’m happy it happened in Mexico and not at home. Means I didn’t have to clean it up!
But I know now that she’s going to be fragile for the rest of the trip. She’s going to be embarrassed and quiet and depressed for the rest of the time we’re here. She’s going to be anxious about it happening again. She’s going to be Worried that She’s Caused Problems, and her worrying is going to be the problem.
I’m not mad. It sucks, but it happens! But I was. Really, really looking forward to not having to do any emotional labor on this trip, and now I’m going to have to step carefully on her eggshells for the next several days.
Which is most of all what I didn’t want to do this week.
Genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, I would rather be here with Lisa feeling miserable than be here alone. But I’d just stopped feeling tired for the first time in three years. And now I’m exhausted again.
…
EDIT: whoops, there I go too. Must be something we ate? sigh.
We’re finally on vacation. We made it. After four misfires last year, four attempts to go out of town that got canceled, we have put all our karmic mojo into Mexico, and we made it. We are here. It is beautiful, the ocean is making colors on the horizon, the water is cool, and the breeze is lovely. We have successfully put ourselves in the terrarium and we are letting other people take care of us. It’s weird and kind of awkward sometimes, but it’s so good. So good to not have to cook or clean or do dishes. Sleep however long we want and whenever we want. Eat as much as we want without guilt or worrying about grocery shopping.
And water. There is water. I came to be immersed in water, and I am succeeding. Just floating in the pool is all I could have asked for. There is nothing else going on, and it is blissful.
Yesterday was absolutely brilliant.
Today, we went to breakfast, and Lisa almost couldn’t eat. She was sweating and dizzy and I was worried. I pumped cold water into her and took her back to our room. Closed the balcony door and cranked up the AC. I’ve seen heat exhaustion. I know what it looks like and it fucking sucks. I though she was going to faint. I got her onto the bed, made her lay down, and told her to nap in the cold. I rescheduled our massages, the only thing we have scheduled. I put on the single sweater I brought for the plane and laid down next to her, so she could see me, so I’d be right there if she needed me. Half an hour later, she sat up in an attempt to get to the bathroom, and threw up all over her side of the bed. Gross, but not unexpected. That’s how heat exhaustion works. You feel like shit, you puke, you feel better. It fucking sucks, but it’s how it goes. I called housekeeping, they’re remaking the bed as I type, and it’s fine.
And Lisa is hiding in the bathroom because she’s embarrassed. And I don’t know how to tell her there is no need to be embarrassed. That is not the feeling she needs right now. But she’s freaking out and she’s a mess and I keep waiting for her to cry, but she won’t. Because that’s embarrassing. She won’t stop apologizing. And I don’t know how to make her understand that there is nothing, nothing for her to apologize for.
This is something that happens. It sucks. We deal. Honestly, I’m happy it happened in Mexico and not at home. Means I didn’t have to clean it up!
But I know now that she’s going to be fragile for the rest of the trip. She’s going to be embarrassed and quiet and depressed for the rest of the time we’re here. She’s going to be anxious about it happening again. She’s going to be Worried that She’s Caused Problems, and her worrying is going to be the problem.
I’m not mad. It sucks, but it happens! But I was. Really, really looking forward to not having to do any emotional labor on this trip, and now I’m going to have to step carefully on her eggshells for the next several days.
Which is most of all what I didn’t want to do this week.
Genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, I would rather be here with Lisa feeling miserable than be here alone. But I’d just stopped feeling tired for the first time in three years. And now I’m exhausted again.
…
EDIT: whoops, there I go too. Must be something we ate? sigh.
