Well, I haven’t written anything for a while. I haven’t really had anything I needed to get off my chest but I thought I’d write an update.

Chris has been fairly stable. It’s been lovely actually. He moved in June and I think it’s done him the world of good. Sadly it coincided with my weight loss surgery so I couldn’t help but it’s a great place. He’s a bit further along the coast and has natural light in abundance. He’s waking up in the morning (rather than afternoon) and gets tired about midnight.

My surgery has been a success. I’ve lost over five and a half stone now and I’m starting to look, well, normal. I feel taller and look better. The best thing about it is that my asthma has completely disappeared and taken with it my chronic back pain, acid reflux and high blood pressure. I can walk again! I feel like a new person. Sadly Chris hasn’t been particularly supportive but I can’t say I’m shocked. He appears to fancy me again, which is really not good. We are not going on that merry-go-round again.

Three weeks ago the new man ended it. He said he didn’t see a future with me as his girlfriend. I, of course, already knew this. I didn’t have a problem with it and would have told him if he’d actually spoken to me but, he didn’t. I woke up to a Dear John text message.

Oh well. Next victim please. 😉


Erratic thoughts

I can’t seem to hold on to any thought for longer than a few seconds at the moment. Surgery is a little over two weeks away. The new chap and I have decided we are in a relationship (after I plucked up the courage to ask). Chris is looking for a new home after being evicted by his new landlord, who wants to put the rent up by around 50%, and I’ve taken my flat off the market.

I’m quite happy currently with Tom. We have nice times together and we are sexually compatible. I see him a few times a week. Lately we have gone to his more than mine. I can’t sleep there and I have experienced a severe allergic reaction to his sofa. I had to ask him if I could replace it as I really can’t live covered in hundreds of itchy red blotches. He is struggling to find work, which is getting him down.

He’s also really worried about my surgery. I had made a conscious decision to not look for a new partner until it was over with as I didn’t want to put them through it. He came about at a lousy time and I feel terrible for him but he understands why. He says I’m gorgeous as I am, which is, of course, lovely to hear, even if I think he’s deluded. Chris, on the other hand, doesn’t want to see me during the pre-op diet (which I start on Monday), or for a few weeks after. Somehow this means he’s being supportive!

I’m nervous about it. I’m scared for the future as food has been so important throughout my life. My friends are taking me out for my last meals. I think they are more upset by it than I am. I think, in general, things are pretty good for me right now. I’m not used to that. I have been through hell to get here. It would be nice if I could relax and enjoy it, but I know that will never happen!

Erratic thoughts

It’s not over until it’s over

We had a row tonight. We haven’t had that many lately, so it was a bit out of the blue.

We were at a out of town shopping centre and after it closed, we got something to eat and started to drive home. Helpfully, they’d closed the bit of road I needed and hadn’t put up any diversion signs. I finally got going where I was going but I was tired and a bit under the weather and really didn’t need a 50 minute scrabble and diversion so we ended up picking at each other. The picking turned to fighting.

I’m aware that he’s not at his best either but sometimes these discussions just happen. In the six and a bit years I’ve known him, he has always threatened to leave. He means in a going missing kind of way. He asked me if I could cope with that better now. I started to cry and said that he was being stupid and that would never be ok. I said I would always look for him and it would never stop. I said it was a horrible, selfish, hurtful thing to do and it didn’t matter when, it would always be that. My mum’s first husband vanished and she still wonders, nearly 50 years later, what happened to him.

This disappearing thing is always his go to place. It’s always upset me and it feels like this threat being lorded over me. It’s one of the main reasons we broke up in the beginning. I couldn’t feel safe and secure knowing he just might go if he felt like it. I think you need to have some security in a relationship and he didn’t ever provide me with a single shred. My mum thinks it’s hot air and he’s just sounding off. It’s so hurtful and deeply distressing and it’s hard for me see past that. He says he’d tell me he was safe but that isn’t acceptable. I’ve known suicide but I haven’t had anyone just leave so I don’t know if they are similar but I expect so.

I keep telling him that he has to take himself with him, if he left. He wouldn’t suddenly stop being bipolar if he moved and changed his name. He wouldn’t miraculously be able to hold down a job or have a girlfriend. He said his biggest regret is that I know the real him. He said he wished that we’d never got close and that’s why he wants to leave. He wouldn’t then have our friendship anymore. That’s such an extremely hurtful thing to say. I’ve done everything I can to care and support him. I’ve loved him even when he’s cheated on me and always been there. It’s a shame he can’t be there for me in any way, ever.

It’s not over until it’s over


Chris is jealous. There isn’t anything I can do about it.

Thirteen years ago, just before I became a student, I had the presence of mind to buy a flat. It was a shitty hole but it was mine. As the years have gone on, I’ve improved it. Nothing is original now to when I bought it. I’ve just had it valued and it’s tripled in price. He is angry with me because I bought and he didn’t. I only met him six years ago! I’m not quite sure what he expects me to do. He jokes about me being loaded. Of course, it isn’t real money. I am going to sell it, but I have to buy something else. I’m not suddenly going to be wealthy. I have to buy a place smaller than this so I’m actually downsizing. Still, that isn’t good enough.

We had a fight tonight, in a supermarket car park, about my flat. He stayed here once and didn’t look after it. I told him that I was now having to put right his damage but he wouldn’t accept any responsibility. He just went on about draughty windows and an erratic boiler, both of which have now been replaced. He stormed off and got a taxi home, despite me offering an olive branch and staying in the car park. He has sent me the obligatory vile text(s). I haven’t read them and have turned my phone off. Always having to have the last word, he took to Facebook. I replied asking if he really wanted to air this in public. He usually deletes my comments. This time he’s deleted me.

I don’t really get it. He has had significantly more money than me in his life. His family had money and mine didn’t. This has turned out, in the end, to be a good choice but for the six or seven years my flat was in negative equity, it didn’t feel like a good choice. When I ended up in court for not being able to pay my service charge, it didn’t feel like a positive. I couldn’t afford to live in it then and the rent I got didn’t cover the mortgage and service charge. Around the same time I was almost declared bankrupt. My mortgage provider decided to try and recall the loan, twice, and it felt like a fucking millstone then. I had so many suicidal thoughts. I ended up in a psychiatric hospital a couple of times.

Why can’t he just be supportive for once? Why can’t he be pleased for me that it’s actually worked out?