The Child Stripper

I realize that this blog is supposed to be about fibroids, but it's turning into a release about all things that are
bothering me.

So, in the natural course of looking for something on the BF's computer, I discovered that he was SO fascinated with an ex-slamhound that he had to review 90+ of her pictures on FB.  And I'm not even exaggerating. I counted. Amazing.

Of course I brought it up, and of course he didn't want to talk about it.  Why?  Because there's shit he doesn't want to tell me and he NEVER wants to fucking talk about it.  He doesn't want to tell me what we both know is the truth.  Or he wants to leave me to my own devices to figure it out.  I'm very upset and extremely disappointed.

Here's the origin of this . . . 

I've never felt like the BF was attracted to me.  He told me some things in the beginning of our relationship that indicated that what he liked physically was WAY different than me, and it has stuck with me ever since.  This particular person -- the gangly Child Stripper (nicknamed such because she was 18 when they got together and eventually became a stripper in Vegas -- very classy girl.  Upon recent investigation, it appears that she's on the 10 year college plan.  Very smart girl) has always bothered me largely because he used her as a departure from his ex, and she's the one that I think he would fuck again in a heartbeat if the timing and geography were right.  In fact if she lived in the city, our relationship would likely not have stood a chance.  

And at this point?  He should just go ahead and get with her.  Because, really?  I'm tired of it.  He should go ahead and get back in contact with her, and on one of his trips, maybe they'll get together and maybe they'll hook up.  I'll figure it out, or I'll ask him and he'll have a striking moment of honesty, and it will be the end of our relationship. Either way, he should do what he wants.  Maybe I'll suggest that.

Honestly, I have enough going on in my life that's upsetting without having my relationship be upsetting too. I have a bad job situation, health situation, and I'm watching my father deteriorate before my eyes. This part is supposed to be my refuge, and the area of my life that's a welcomed departure from the other bullshit that I can't escape.  My relationship is supposed to be part of the solution.

I'm supposed to feel -- with surety -- that the person that I call my boyfriend is attracted to me.  I should feel it as strongly as I can smell the air when it's raining.  I should.  And it's not anything that can be coached or suggested -- not should it be.  It should be natural.  Everyone deserves that.  Perhaps I made a mistake in the beginning.  I'm sure there are a lot of mistakes that I've made.  

But what he's doing now . . . by not talking about this-- or knowing that I'm stewing about it, and not proactively bringing it up . . .is leaving me to my own devices to draw my own conclusions and figure it out.  If he's avoiding the topic, surely there's a reason.  If the situation were reversed and I thought HE had one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel, I would do everything in my power to get him back on solid ground and feeling good about our relationship.  So I guess I'm not worth it.

If we do break up, the question becomes whether it's before or after the surgery.  All I know is that I don't want to be unhappy going into surgery, so however that looks is what I need to do.  

The Universe Is Testing Me

My job situation is a bit tenuous.  It's the nature of what I do.  I'm a contract consultant, and although I'm on many long projects, I always run the risk that one of my clients will cut me, which they can do at a moment's notice without owing me anything except for a firm goodbye and a handshake.

I've been a contractor for several years, and I've somehow become comfortable with the instability of it all, which is strange, given the fact that I'm such a control freak.

All this to say that the client that I've been working almost exclusively with for over a year has now decided that they want me off of their books.  We thought about having me work for them full time, but we can't make the numbers and the levels work.  So, essentially, I'm working until the Friday before my surgery, and then I'm screwed.  It's the end of the year and I will be jobless, and cut wide open without the ability to interview for a new role.  I'm surprisingly calm about this, which only means that the severity of my situation hasn't yet sunk in.

I'm sure it will.  And soon.

Pre-Op Visit

I adore my doctor.

I had my pre-op visit the other day, and he answered the long list of questions that I asked, with the most important being whether or not the orientation of my incision could be changed.  He's informed me that he would have to do a vertical incision because of the huge size of my uterus.  He didn't seem optimistic about this shift, and said that the worse thing that could happen would be that he could try to give me a horizontal incision, but then decide that he still needed a vertical incision, leaving me with a T across my abdomen.  Naturally I gave in.  Although I'm not happy about the prospect of having a butt in the front AND the back.

Sigh!