So how does a chronic condition affect my immediate family? In a variety of ways. The summary statement would be: When it is good, it is very, very good. When it is bad, it is horrid.
By definition of my immediate family, they are defined as those I live with daily or raised from birth. Each have approached the situation differently, and differently at diffferent stages in their own lives.
At the time of diagnosis, there were younger children involved. I don’t even recall how the situation was explained to them, in part because it was barely explained to me. I didn’t have much of an understanding of what I was up against, so how do I explain what I don’t know?
Teenage years? Tough. At times, hell. Medical treatments brought side effects that were difficult for anyone to understand. Me, my family, everyone. The mother they knew was, I am guessing, gone. Unable to be like the other moms. How many of their classmates could describe the experience of coming home from school to a note that your mother has been unexpectedly admitted to the hospital again?
Medical bills won out over things that were once available to them: random trips to McDonald’s, vacations now reduced to a weekend getaway on a good year, paying for their own attire at the first sign of employment eligibility. . .soon paying for everything they needed except for their meals.
Adding to that was a severely depressed SO (the significant other). He had been offered a reprieve from the relationship the night after my diagnosis. I acknowledged that he hadn’t signed up for this and gave him a ‘get out of jail free’ pass. He declined. Sort of. He was there physically, but little else. As years go by, I still know that if a setback lasts more than a short amount of time the deep, deep, deep drowning depression will set in with him. Then I am dealing with two illnesses: mine, and his. He agreed finally to be treated for it. That lasted for maybe a year or so, then he decided of his own accord one day that he was healed. Anyone who knows anything about antidepressants knows you do not simply stop taking them. But he did.
Things remained calm for a long time. Why? Because my health did. Now every bit of it is rearing its ugly head again. I am told in front of other family members what an inconvenience I am, what expensive upkeep I am, how everyone goes without their own needs and desires because all of the household income goes to my medical bills. So did he agree to stick it out in the relationship?
Of course, there are two sides to every story, and you are hearing my side of the story.
The baby of the family? The biggest blessing of all. Always willing to help out, cheerfully and immediately. But eventually, as time wore on, the SO reminded that family member as well of all they had given up. It was always done with me right in the room. In private, we would have ‘conversations’ about how destructive this was not only for our own relationship but also for their future relationships. We would agree that this was not good for anyone, and to call a truce. And then, it would happen again.
Several years ago, I learned that the SO was seeing this as a contest of sorts. Someone would win, and someone would lose. I just wanted to be heald and get my life back. I hadn’t signed up for this. Soon, the family members closest to me were privately pulled into the matter. It was disclosed that I was ‘perhaps suffering a midl mental breakdown’. Things that were perfectly explainable if given the full picture were veiled with suggestions and suspicion. I never suspected. Until one day when someone slipped something from a sentence. What? What was that you said? Hush, hush, hushhhh. . .
I had vowed that dirty laundry stayed in your own house. You don’t take it over to your mama’s house to wash clean. Apparently our dirty laundry was being washed at her house for a long time without my knowledge. I filled in the dots. Have relationships been the same since then? No. Am I glad I spoke up? Yes.
We may be working on things for years. There is forgiveness, then it is taken back. New issues crop up. Old ones refuse to die. Where would we be if this had not been part of the relationship? I think we would still be in the same place. The difficulties came long before the diagnosis.
leave of absence
