Fucking "Illnesses"

MmmK... new post, new post, new post....

Uhhh... I seriously feel like I don't have shit to write. I used to love to blog. I used to feel like I had so much to say. Now... well, not-so-much.

It isn't that I don't have shit going on.. Because, boy, do I. But, I realized that when I blogged before I became completely consumed with diagnoses and symptoms... But, never recovery. I'd have good days, or even periods. But, never a real effort to be better.

This is not to say that I am "better." I am just less focused on how ill I am. And, this is not to say that I pretend I am not ill. I am just trying to live with my illnesses, instead of living as my illnesses. If that makes any damn sense.

I guess this comes to mind because of the tiniest incedent today. S was about to leave to pick up lunch when the maintenance man came. S bent over and kissed me goodbye. I looked at him with that what-the-fuck-do-you-think-you-are-doing look that only women can produce. He was dumbfounded... what did he do? I realized that my need for his presence in order to have someone in our home was not "normal." What's more is that I realized how many other "normal" things I am incapable of doing, alone at least. I was so used to P knowing and doing what I needed that I had forgotten how "abnormal" I can be. S was more than willing to stay and said that it made sense that I wouldn't want to be alone with a strange man. I tried to explain that there are many more things he will need to adapt to. He didn't flinch. Just said, "I'm fucked up, too. It will be fine." Huge sigh of relief.

S did mention this the other day:
"You change your mood like twenty times a day. Well, not twenty maybe, but A LOT of times every day. The smallest thing triggers you, and I have no clue what it is or how to react."

My response:
"I was completly honest with you regarding my illnesses. I didn't wait for an episode, I told you strait up...." And a bunch of other completly defensive comments like that.

His reply:
"No baby, I'm not bitching. I just want you to tell me what I should do when you do that, that's all. I don't know how to respond to you without making you upset. Just tell me how to deal with it."

Uhhhh..... He is being completly understanding and making huge efforts. And, you know what?
I had no answers. I have spent years and years researching my illnesses, and couldn't give him a single suggestion besides...

"Either you can deal with it, or you can't"

WTF, Shannin?!?!?! Gee, why aren't people more understanding and accomodating to mental illness? Perhaps they have had an experience with an ass like me? I can not believe myself sometimes! And, even still... I don't know how to articulate how he can best deal with me other than to just ignore me, which will likely set me off at some point too.
Am I going to have to get him a copy of "Don't Walk on Eggshells"(I think that's the title)... a book about "dealing" with BPD?