I feel so gross. Just run down, overwhelmed, and defeated. 
Not fun.
First there was the ever-fun interaction I had with a doctor last week. When asking for a prescription for a patient, the doctor thumbed through his files and says “oh I know that patient, he’s GAY”. I didn’t know this, but didn’t really think it was relevant either, so I shrugged and said “okay?”. “Well, he’s raising SONS.” the doctor said with a mesh of moral superiority and revulsion. I shrugged again, but couldn’t manage the same “okay?” since suddenly my synapses were frozen. “I don’t want to deal with him right now” the doctor said and I stumbled off all jumbled up and breathing heavy and stinging all over. After all, *I’M* gay! And *I* want to raise children! And here I was being slapped in the face with the very attitudes and words and intolerance that I live in such fear of. It was horrifying. With my first baby-doctor appointment coming up in what? 33 days? all my fears were coming true. Yes, there are doctors out there who are intolerant. Yes, there are doctors out there who will refuse to treat on moral indignation grounds. Yes, there are doctors out there that will make their gay patients the gossip of the hospital. And this is what I have to go out and face in order to get pregnant? I don’t want to!! I want to hide in the house and never go out and never deal with a*sholes who think they’re so much better that they get to judge and criticize and put others down. I don’t want to risk the hurt and the pain. After that interaction with the doctor at work, I snuck off to the employee locker room and sobbed, you know the kind of sobs where you can barely catch your breath, for about an hour. Then I picked myself up and went out and faked normalcy for the next six hours while I took care of sick patients. And it sucked. Even now I’m tearing up again reliving it. Some deep part of me was really, really injured that day.
So then I’m at home and the past couple of days S and I do nothing but argue. Same old argument as always… we have too much stuff. I think some of it should go. I have this philosophy that everything should have a place where it can be put away, so that the house can occasionally be cleaned and look presentable. S has the philosophy that clutter happens, and the more stuff she owns/collects the better. She gets some kind of joy out of owning just about everything under the sun, even though the books and movies are never read or viewed. They collect dust on the back of a bookshelf or in a pile on the floor and it drives me batshite craaaaaaaaaaaaazy!!! The thrill seems to be just in the buying, not in the enjoying. I don’t want to change her, or take away her enjoyment of movies and comics and books, I just think some of the older ones that have been in boxes for the past two years could be dumped out while the new ones are being bought. S seems to think that a bigger house is the solution, as if we can just buy a bigger one every ten years when she inevitably fills that one up!?!? Plus, what about the KIDS that we are supposed to be having? They’ll live under the bed? Behind a bookshelf? They won’t have a ton of stuff of their own to clutter up the house? Where will their stuff go? Sigh. Meanwhile I live in this house of piles that because of my ocd personality leaves me continually stressed out and grumpy.
So all of this gets me thinking, is it all really worth it? Is being with S worth the ridicule and pain that I encounter out in the world because we’re gay? Is it worth living in constant financial struggle? Is it worth giving up my deep seated beliefs and desires to be a stay-at-home mom and having to work and use daycare which I’ve been against my whole life? Is this relationship worth living in clutter and stress for the next 50 years? Is it supposed to be this hard? I know, commitment, long term relationships are hard. But really, are they supposed to be *this* hard? Does everyone go through phases where it just seems easier to bail? Some of my friends talk in such gooey shmoopy glowing terms of their significant others/ spouses and I wonder are some relationships that great? Should I be holding out for that shmoopy glow? Or is this real life, reality, and I’m supposed to stay and fight and do the hard work to make it through?
So today I just stayed in bed all day and felt like crap. It doesn’t help that we ate out last night and the food made me sick, or that it’s over 100 degrees out. Maybe tomorrow will be better. Hopefully tomorrow will be better…
