Hi, this is my first post. It's been seven weeks since my surgery. I was an unpaid full-time carer for my same-sex male partner who had autism, ADHD, learning disabilities, and a difficult background of having been in care with a horrible abusive family. I have ADHD and so-called 'mild' autism. We were going to get married at the end of August. They were a lot of work at times, and I had to cope with difficult behaviors. I fought hard to find them social groups and get them social services support and personal assistants through the local authority. I told their social worker they'd struggle while I was in the hospital and needed more help for a while. I didn't get it, other than two more hours a week for the PAs.
Initially, my partner was supportive emotionally and said they would always love me; having a stoma made no difference. They helped me while I got to grips with changing my bag. And then they stopped doing the things I couldn't do anymore in the house. While I was at my most vulnerable and could do nothing for myself, they left me ignored for two days. A friend popped by, and my then-catheter bag was full to bursting. I'd had no food, drink, or meds; I'd called for my partner repeatedly, and they'd been sitting ignoring me in the living room, drinking and eating for themselves. They were away in their head, kind of shut down. They came out of this state, and for the next week, they did come back to being the person I knew. But then, one day, they told me that they were going out to see their PA. They left and never came back. No goodbye to me or our cats.
I got a call from the social worker after several days that my now ex had decided they wanted a place of their own, and they'd help them get it. My ex won't face me or speak to me. It's occasional texts and PAs coming over for stuff for them. I was left to cancel the wedding, separate our benefits, and notify the housing as I'd made them a co-tenant... everything.
I've done nothing wrong, but I've realized I did too much for them and forgot about me until I was forced to think about me by the surgery. It feels like when I became unable to care for them, they just didn't want to care for me. I'm left doing stuff I shouldn't be doing at the moment, like feeding the cats and doing cat trays, keeping the house clean as best I can because I don't want to live in a muckheap. They've got support; I have none. They have the socials; I had my friends driven away by my ex's behavior around them and so have no one close by.
I've come into full awareness of the impact of what I thought was unintended emotional abuse (now I think it was) that I suffered over the past three years. I dismissed it as due to their disabilities and background; I tried to work with them, encourage them to be better, to appreciate the good life they now had. By the time of my surgery, I knew but didn't acknowledge to myself that I gave but never got back for a long time. My compassion and love gave them an easy ride. I'm still unwell and struggling, trying to keep my house together, dealing with a huge surgical trauma and now the trauma of abandonment and realization that I'm isolated and was isolated on purpose as well as by my focus never being on myself and my needs. I'm not angry. I just feel like a fool here having to deal with so much vulnerability on my own. So I found the forum here where I hope it's okay to let it out like this. My GP has me on antidepressants now for nonstop anxiety.
I love my stoma because it saved my life, but now I'm wondering what's the point of it anymore. I didn't expect to be 58, single, with a bag. The cats I love keep me here, but they're hard work, and when I have leaks and am having to change the bedding, or I've got deliveries I have to shunt with my foot because I can't lift, I cry. I cry a lot. This is not who I am. I'm a strong, independent gay male counselor with no family since my parents died - whom I cared for in their later years - and I fell in love three years ago and thought I'd made it through to happiness. But here I am, sad and alone. I really hope finding this forum will help me find my way back up because, right now, it feels like the only way is down, and I don't want that. I'm struggling with finances, and the car was my ex-partner's arranged through disability benefits, but they don't drive. Still, it'll go soon, and I'm in a village without even enough to get buses out of here until I can resume enough of my self-employment to have a decent income. For now, I'm on Universal Credit with PIP not for IBD but for my fibromyalgia. Thank you to anyone who may read this. I don't know where to turn. I was always there to care for others, and now nobody cares for me. Trust and confidence shattered, I think I'll always be on my own now that I've got a bag. Not that I'm thinking of relationships at all right now, if ever.
