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My Disappearing Act

As you may (or may not) have noticed, I have been a little…absent shall we say from most things internety. Aside from some mildly ambiguous tweets, I have sorta fallen off the grid…for a whole week. Which in blogger time, is like a fucking eternity. The super good news is that my ass is still functioning all fine. So is my heart, and eye balls, and well everything on my bod is still in good working order. But I guess I did sorta just lie, my heart is hurting. Not my real heart that pumps blood all over and is squishy and red and important to keep me alive, but rather my figurative heart that is directly connected to my vagina because I’m a women. Speaking of which, why are lady hearts so obnoxious? The figurative ones I mean, not the real ones. The real ones are good and useful. Can you tell I’m trying not to piss of my real heart?

Anyway, Internet. Last week I broke up my boyfriend. I know for most of you this is anticlimactic, but for me its a big deal and my lady heart/vagina is really sad about it. Also, if you’re a member of said boyfriend’s family, I’m sorry you have to read about this on my blog along with the rest of the internet. At least its not Christmas and you’re trying to figure out why I blew off your family party (which we both know I wouldn’t do)…because I’m sure he’s not going to go out of his way to tell you.

So I’ve been trying to navigate these post break up waters, because I have no fucking idea what I’m doing. I have literally been in one relationship or another since I was about 14 (and by one or another I literally mean two). The last breakup I had was so dramatic that it could have beat out Mad Men for drama of the year and it was awful and painful and I was like 22 so I’m sure I cried an extra 25 tears for every second we were together because thats what young people do. Also, about a minute later I was dating my current (and now ex) boyfriend. I didn’t really do this on purpose, but it happened and it was a really pleasant thing at the time. Fast forward now, 4 and a half years later and our relationship was anything but pleasant and a break up has been long overdue, just ask me. Don’t ask him, he doesn’t agree.

Since this blog isn’t titled “Blood, Poop, Tears and Jackie’s Love Life”, I don’t spend a lot of time on here talking about said love life. I also got to the point where even I didn’t want to hear about the mind fuck that was my relationship, so I stopped talking about it to anyone and everyone. Don’t take it personal internet. It has also taken me a a long time to realize how vital a relationship with someone you love can be during your sickness. I SHOULD have been writing about him. I SHOULD have been able to talk about how supportive and helpful he was. But I couldn’t, because he wasn’t, so I didn’t.

Call me weak, call me stupid, call me whatever you want, but this is what I’m trying to figure out with my brand spankin’ new therapist. Because when anything gets hard in my life I go running to therapy, and don’t you judge me because the world would be a much better fucking place if we all sat around and talked about our feelings with strangers. I mean….yea I guess that I do that on this blog, its different because when I explain ridiculous things that happened in my relationship I can actually SEE my therapist roll his eyes.

So I may or may not be talking about this more, I can’t decide. I don’t want this blog to become a “Dear Diary” for my broken heart. Mostly because thats not the point, and also those kind of diaries are really only useful when they belong to your sister and she hides them under her pillow and it has one of those shitty “locks” on it. I say “locks” because I’m pretty sure you could just breathe on it and it opened. Maybe it was a magic lock, that didn’t take a key, but just some air. Thats some Harry Potter shit right there. Also, I’m sorry sister of mine, but I read the shit out of your diary when I was little. I’m sure this is no real surprise to you.

Well friends that about it. I’m really sad but I know this was what is best for me. And that is really shitty. So feel free to send me chocolates, or french fries. This is definitely a “get fat” breakup and not a “get skinny” one. Which is a serious deterrent to my ability to find a new mate. I have also been living on grilled cheese for about 3 days. I ran out of bread AND cheese yesterday and I almost had a melt down. Or not a melt down, I mean, I didn’t have any cheese to melt. My pant size is growing, and my blankets might be covered in snot, but I think my writing is better. So we all win. Mostly. Not really.

The Uncaring Partner

I am in a fabulous mood right now, so I figured because I am happy and peppy now would be a good time to write about what its like to go through UC and surgery with an “uncaring partner”. This topic is generally pretty depressing for me, so this is why I’ve chosen now to discuss it.

I tend to share everything with you Internet, and I do mean everything. The one thing that I don’t really talk about is that I am dating a robot. Think less C-3PO (he has a personality and talks) and more R2D2. He functions as a human but is missing human characteristics like emotions, sympathy, regret…etc. The robot’s number one mission is to keep itself running.

Boyfriend and I have been together 4 and a half years and 3 of those years I was sick. When I tell most people that, I get a lot of “oh he must really love you”, or essentially telling me how amazing he is for not leaving me during that time. I will say that from the outside, it may seem as though that is the case, however, that isn’t really what happened. To put it all really bluntly Boyfriend didn’t care when I was sick, having surgeries, dying from the inside out, or when I was suicidal. And not in the its-so-sweet-it-doesn’t-bother-him not care kind of way, but more in the “I literally just don’t give a fuck” kind of way.

In the beginning when IBD was new and we still didn’t know what was really wrong, he cared more. I remember him sleeping on the floor of my tiny ICU room in a hospital that was almost 2 hours away from his job. I remember not thinking anything of it, because I thought “this is how it’s supposed to be”. Once my condition was more clear, and later as it got worse Boyfriend also began to care less. Some people said, “He just doesn’t know how to handle you being sick.” If you knew Boyfriend, I think you’d know that wasn’t the case.

Boyfriend isn’t what you’d call supportive. In fact, he had no interest in my doctor’s appointments, my surgeries, my setbacks or my progress. Boyfriend doesn’t care about this blog and has never read it. Boyfriend doesn’t understand why I volunteer a week of my life for Camp Oasis. More than likely he can’t tell you that what I had is called Ulcerative Colitis, and that I have Multiple Sclerosis. These are just not things that matter in Boyfriend’s life.

Now that you’ve gotten a glimpse into my very private relationship, you may understand slightly what its been like dating Boyfriend, the robot, while I was very sick. I looked to my family, who in turn were amazing and gave more support than I probably deserved. I learned not to expect support from Boyfriend and just go to the places where I KNEW I could get it…..family, other friends, and you guys here at my blog.

Since I’m laying this all out here, I know that you’re all going to judge me. I know some of you may be thinking “you deserve better”, “he’s an asshole”, or my favorite “you are a dumbass”. Chances are if you were me, I would be thinking the same thing about you too. I am, in fact, not dumb. I know how it looks, I know how it feels, and I’m not blissfully ignoring how things are/were and pretending like it’s all ok.

There may be some of you out there who have people in your life who are like this. Maybe its your spouse or parents. But here is where I tell you how to deal with it.

You make a choice. You choose to deal with it, or you don’t. Easier said than done…trust me…I know.

But if you choose to deal with it you’ll need to develop a source of support somewhere else. Hopefully you have other family members who will stand by you, or friends who care deeply for you. You find other people who understand, like on blog or facebook sites. Most importantly you learn to be self-sufficient. If you don’t need that person, then it won’t hurt as much when they choose not to help you. Is this a depressing way to look at it? Sure. Is it wrong? No. No one can tell you what your relationship is supposed to be like, or look like, or act like. You know the reasons why you stay (and if you don’t, you better figure them out). I will say that I would have liked for Boyfriend to have been more caring and supportive through all of this but because he wasn’t I learned to be much more self-sufficient. I am baffled when I read that other people have their spouses change their ostomy appliances or give them their shots. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I depend on no one. I think that there are a lot of people out there who could learn a little independence.

Am I jaded by Boyfriend and our relationship? Yes. Aren’t we all jaded by someone at one point or another? At the end of the day here is what you need to know about Boyfriend and myself. He has irrefutably let me down in the hardest time of my life. Due to that I have learned to depend on myself almost to a fault. I also don’t know if I can ever “forgive” for that, but frankly he’s never shown any interest in my forgiveness. Boyfriend still makes me laugh, and I still have a good time when I am with him. We have shockingly similar interests aside from health issues. If anything he has been a constant in my life during the ups and downs. You guys know how I feel about marriage and babies and Boyfriend feels the same way. So for right now…Boyfriend works. He provides me with what I need from him right now. What may be hard to understand for many is that what I need from Boyfriend is not what most people need from their significant other. I do not depend on him for my emotional or physical health and well-being. I don’t depend on him financially. I don’t depend on him. Period.

Current Music: The Postal Service…all of it. On repeat.
(I’ve decided to list my music when I post because I just want to. And I do what I want.)

 

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