Like living with the worst boyfriend

Crohns is the worst boyfriend ever. It is always in your life, takes away any sex drive and just makes you pure miserable.

I am having a pretty shit time of it at the moment. I feel sick when I eat and then shit the whole lot out. My asshole is on fire and itching like mad (feels like thrush for your anus). I have lost weight but i look 6 month pregnant by the end of the day.

I literally cannot stop burping, I cannot risk farting unless I am on the loo, it will follow through.

Now my legs have been playing up, as has my lower back.

I need to get time off work but I need to pay my rent. The chronic fatigue is the bit that gets me probably the worst. It is quite isolating, living alone and being so tired that after work all I want to do is go home, but that doesn’t mean I want to go home and be alone. This is where an actual boyfriend would come in handy.

The sex thing. I still get horny but I feel so disgusting I cannot imagine actually doing anything. I mean when you go to the loo five times a day it is hard to feel sexy. My ex had a thing for ass. Obviously anal penetration was taken off the board quite soon after the symptoms started to show, but he was still mad for the ass. This made me so uncomfortable at times. How can you take something that someone likes so much away from them? Probably played a part in the breakup if I am honest.

I have not vacuumed in over two weeks. I have no energy to at all.

Advertisements

Heart

Readers, I don’t often address the readers of my blog. If I think about people reading it too much I think I would stop writing it.

But tonight, after chatting with my ex on the phone, I would love to know peoples. Thoughts on some things.

The first. How much is too much? How much can your heart take before it stops wanting to love again?

Which straw breaks the camals back?

How do you trust again?

At what point do you stop caring?

Why do people lie? And why do you seek the truth from people that lie? Why is their truth worth listening to? I gave my ex enough rope to hang himself with. He hung himself good. He knows I know he is lying yet still won’t come out and tell the truth. This was awful in our relationship. But even now I think it is worse. Before he could lose me with the truth. Now, he could just respect me by telling me the truth. Nothing to lose but maybe my respect. God knows he lost that long ago. I lost it for myself even longer ago. There are things that I know that I shouldn’t know. But when is it time to say enough is enough, I don’t care if you always lied and never respected me? 

He is so good at lying that you start to doubt the concrete evidence.

Something I wrote

I wrote this the other day. I sent it into an email to myself so I wouldn’t send it to him 

“I am in pain thanks to you. You shouldn’t have stayed because now all i want is for you to crawl into bed next to me and kiss my injuries better and kiss the sore bits from yesterdays sex better too. I slept so well with you in my. No our. Bed. 

One day you will want me back. I don’t know if i want to turn you down or to take you back. But the worse option is for you not to want me back. Not to try. Not to make me feel special for once. 

No more sex.”

Then I decided I wanted to have sex with him still. Now I am sending him emails about breaks to Berlin. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

He tells me he is happy. So much happier without me. But I didn’t even know he wasn’t happy. I know I should just accept and move on. I cancelled a date with a guy because I couldn’t even face seeing someone that wasn’t him sitting across the table from me. The thought of anyone else even holding my hand fills me with complete sickness and dread. 

I keep of thinking of these grand gestures that will prove my love and make him forgive me. But I keep on forgetting. He left me. It was never that he didn’t know I loved him. It was that he didn’t love me. I have no idea how to deal with this. 

All of this was sparked by two songs that came on in work. Damn you George Michael.