Email reply

I got an email back from A's dad. The email's tone was neutral and relatively harmless, but in essence he said A's mum has always been that way, and that I should adopt a different attitude and just get on with life.

I am getting on with life, just without them, temporarily. I don't think it's unreasonable to avoid people and situations that are going to make dealing with this illness more difficult than it already is.

What's more, yesterday, my doctor said that I'm a "difficult case", and that the situation between me and A's parents is what's prolonging my illness.

I don't think there's much else I can do. I've already tried everything. I've tried having them over, but A's mum couldn't resist saying things like "Why can't you just accept that you'll have it for the rest of your life, and stop complaining", and "Why can't you just go away for a year and come back when you're fine" and "Can't you be more independent". When people are down, you don't kick them in the guts.

Even when we were just at home, and they were over for lunch, she couldn't resist worstening the situation. I was feeling like shit, so I wasn't saying much. She could have just bit her tongue, but she said "What, so we're annoying you now? What do you want us to do, go outside?" How was I supposed to respond to something like that? You might think I'm exaggerating, but I am really repeating what she said word for word.

I don't expect them to do anything to help me. I just want them to not make it worse. I don't think it's too much to ask. It'd be so easy to just bite your tongue and be neutral, even if you didn't believe the illness exists or is that bad.

Email

I sent this email to A's dad this morning.

(I've replaced the names with the code names we're using, for privacy reasons.)

"Hi [A's dad],

How are things going up at the farm? Hope all's well.

I just wanted to say again that I'm sorry [A] missed lunch with you all. I really don't like disrupting his social life, and I would never want to make anyone feel like they're trapped. These are difficult times for me, and even though I have a lot of great friends who have been extremely supportive, I would be lost without [A's] help.

I realise that as his parents you're just looking out for your son. I'm eternally grateful to [A] for sticking around, because I know for sure that not every guy would have. And the thing I find the most unfair and regret most about this whole thing is that I'm putting him through it.

The reason I haven't seen you guys in ages is because I was really hurt by some things that [A's mum] said to me when we had dinner that weekend you (kindly) came down to the city with some furniture. I was just so afraid it might happen again.

If you have any questions about things about the situation that are bothering you, please just pop it in an email or something and I'll to my best to explain it to you. I realise it's a really difficult illness to understand.

I hope that clears up a few things, and I'm sorry that I haven't explained it earlier.

Best wishes,

[my name]"

I really it hope it helps. I hate being in a fight with people.

I think I'll feel better about the situation between me and them if at least one of them begins to understand this all a bit better.

Leaps and bounds

I've moved forward in leaps and bounds today, I think. I hope.

There have been ongoing problems between me and A's parents. From the moment they met me, they've had something against me.

I've tried so hard to fit in. I try to be polite, I try not to get in the way up at the farm, I go on lots of horse rides with A's mum (we're lucky in that horse riding's a passion for both of us), I help out at the farm in any way I can.

But nothing I do is ever good enough. Nearly every time I've visited the farm, A's mum has found a reason to have a go at me. And it's usually uncalled for.

The kind of rudeness I experience is difficult to explain without sounding like I'm exaggerating. It's also difficult to explain it in one sitting, much less over the Internet. So, I'll try, but it might be something you'll begin to understand over time.

Anyway, today, Al's mum rang and said she didn't think it's a good idea for us to get a car together. Somehow it spiralled into an argument about me and A staying in a relationship.

I figured A's mum didn't understand chronic fatigue very well, but I didn't realise just how uninformed she is. Apparently she said that other people with chronic fatigue still go out lots, and she can't see why I can't just accept that I'll have it for the rest of my life.

She doesn't realise that with chronic fatigue, the severity of the symptoms can vary from person to person. And at the moment, I have it pretty bad. At my worst, there were times when I had to crawl to get to the bathroom. Going out is difficult for me.

And I'm surprised that she thinks I should just accept that I'll have CFS for the rest of my life. How could I? As a strong-willed working woman, I don't think she would accept it either.

Anyway, they had their argument, and A rang his dad later to see where he stood in the argument. A's dad did ask if A felt trapped. A replied saying that he feels as though he always has the option to leave. I've always said that if A decides he can't handle it anymore, no one's going to think any less of him. He's already done way more than enough to help.

A also said to his dad that I'd spent the last two days in bed. And A's dad said he didn't realise it was that bad. I think A's dad could be beginning to understand the situation a little bit better. It might be a small step, but it's still a step forward.

But the thing I learnt most from this situation is that I started to see it from a parent's point of view. They're just looking out for their kid. I'm just disappointed that they jumped to the conclusion that I was just doing this for attention so I could "trap" A.

And I'm even more hurt that they managed to taint the views of A's brother, and one of my friends.

Two steps forward, one step back, I guess.