The Narcolepsy, Not the Man

So I had a conversation with my mother today that left me feeling pretty guilty. Although we only spoke for a few minutes, by the time we hung up, I felt as if I'd spent hours railing against my husband. In retrospect, maybe I did. I often think that I confuse the two: my husband and Narcolepsy. Over the years, I've come to think of myself as being married to two different people: my husband - whom I chose to marry, and Narcolepsy - who tricked me into marriage.

It's the Narcolepsy that I think is lazy and unmotivated, careless and forgetful, annoying and dull. My husband is none of those things. Instead, he's funny and interesting, smart and resourceful, motivated and hard-working. Those are some of the reasons why I fell in love with him.

Narcolepsy is such a betrayal of who you really are. It literally transforms my husband into a different person - a person that I sometimes don't recognize, and sometimes barely tolerate.

But I don't think I conveyed any of that to my mother. That's what left me feeling guilty. I am just barely beginning to understand this illness, so I'm pretty sure my mother doesn't fully comprehend it. I think that I will make a vow: I will only vent about my husband's condition to those I'm confident will understand the extenuating circumstances.