Growing pains
Is what I'm having right now.
Yesterday night Vanilla came to bed and confessed to having found a lump besides her cervix. It freaked me out (mum, cancer, remember?). I asked if she wanted to make an appointment to see the doctor herself or if I should do it. She asked me to do it.
So I did, and got her an appointment at the early afternoon. So I called her and told her when her appointment woul be (four hours later at that point). I called her again two hours prior to the doctor to make sure she had woken up and taken a shower and was getting ready.
20 mins before we had scheduled to meet, I had already left work to be there on time. She texts me that she was late from the bus and will only make it there at the precise time her appointment was supposed to start. I call her and ask what the heck. She offers a variety of excuses -the next bus was five minutes late, she was only 30 seconds late for the bus she was supposed to take, she thought the appointment was five minutes later, she couldn't take the taxi because she had no money, the money I gave her was needed for food, she hadn't yet gone to the store but would go later today...
(Turns out the lump was NORMAL

. We weren't the first ladies to come to the doctor all freaked about our cervixes, which are naturally pourous and lumpy around the opening. We both have HPV and cellular abnormalities, plus it was two years since Vanilla's last smear test, so I was worried. Thank God it's alright.)
After we get out of the doctor's office, Vanilla claims that I was overreacting and that she knew all the time it wasn't serious. Excuses, justifications, defences. She's been living off the money I give her lately, because she lost her wallet. It's inside the house. Why hasn't she found it? Because the house is such a mess, and she's too tired and achy to look for it. (Today she did manage to go to the bank to get some money for herself, which was unexpected and gave me some hope).
We have an ongoing discussion on my contribution to our household. I feel I can't work two jobs and be expected to carry out half the housework, especially since I'm barely there and she's at home all day every day. I don't have the time to make a mess! When she cooks, eats, does thing x, she can't move a single item to the trash. Empty wrappers and left-overs just end up on the floor, where the cats make a mess of them. I cleaned what remained of her several day old pizza left-overs that the cats had a field-day with, and my reward was that she complained that I don't even do the one thing that's supposed to be all my responsibility - the dishes.
She has known Chip for two weeks, and sees him more than she does me and communicates with him constantly, while I shouldn't bother her time with him by texting, since he gets upset. She cries how I don't understand how much she enjoys her bruises and how I don't accept her as she is, but although I have tried to initiate sex (by saying "I want to have sex tonight"), she hasn't been interested. She herself freaked about her bruising but now it has been turned upside down and it is me who has insisted she give up pain for a month. Her previous abusive dom Goblin, with whom she remains in close contact, convinced her that I am unreasonable to ask her to respect her own limits and boundaries by taking a break from intensive BDSM exploration and that as a masochist, pain is her basic need and no one, not even her, should try to control it.
Yesterday our sex attempt ended in tears because she was so upset about my recent hair cut. She sees me as controlling, impossible to please and demanding, and herself as a totally helpless victim of pain and impossible, incomprehensible demands. I listen to her and all I hear is how nothing is ever her fault, it's me or bus timetables or her evil psychiatrist or whatnot. Chip of course is above reproach, the only one who really understands her, he cannot be burdened by the day to day struggle of taking care of her, and his needs must be catered to at all times. He freaked out when he heard that Vanilla has HSV, and went on about how she had lead him on by saying that her test results were 'clean' (which they were, they don't test for HSV up here), which to his mind they were not. While he has around five gfs and is obviously to me a giant dick (not literally, he is quite small) who should be worried about how safe a partner he is, Vanilla is just worried that he is afraid of love, a delusion he is happy to cater to. BLARGH!!!11
I'm living and letting live. From now on I'll get my own food, do my own laundry, take care of my own appointments and live my own life. Vanilla doesn't want to be parented or nurtured or taken care of. Fine.