This thread is about you. No need to apologize for talking about yourself. My heart hurts for you because I know that pain. You feel like you're sucking oxygen out of the air and aren't contributing anything. Every morning I wake up without pain or vomiting is a good one, and I've learned to not take any period of good health for granted. This stretch of "normal" will end eventually and it'll be back to the hubby flushing port lines and bathing me so I don't pass out in the shower (again).
As for my ex... We met before I got sick, but it was an unhealthy codependent relationship from day one. He had a history of doing coke, but he never touched drugs while we were together. He was my fixer-upper, the one I saved from himself. He went to a trade school and got a good job, all thanks to me. *snort* That's what I believed back then. I also believed his threats of self-harm if I left him. When I got sick he was great. And then came the C word: chronic. I guess one hospitalization when the disease tried to kill me was ok, but he wasn't up to doing more than that. I guess he figured nobody else would, either, because he proposed and I stupidly accepted. It was then that he started getting a lot more abusive, and one night it turned physical. I left and never looked back. For the longest time though, o thought I had made a mistake because who would want me? I carried a diaper bag for myself in the trunk of my car, spent a good half an hour in the bathroom, and used enemas every night at bedtime. Nobody wants to deal with that.
It took a few years and one failed marriage, but I found someone who deals with that. He hates hospitals and doesn't like seeing me plugged into all the blinky things, but he does it because he loves me, and that's what you do when you love somebody. Training him to give me shots and flush lines was difficult, but now he's a pro. Is it always kittens and rainbows here? No. Does he get frustrated sometimes? Yes. So I get whiny and mean sometimes? Yes. But that's where a lot of my Al-Anon work has benefited me outside of my relationship with my alcoholic mother. It really does work of you work it.
I hear ya on the pills. My last count was 34 a day. Only one of those is my antidepressant, and it's not a heavy-hitting dose. Like I said, doesn't have to be permanent. Just a boost to help you get the energy to pick yourself up and on your feet. I will pm you tomorrow sometime and we can talk illness and meds andcoping sstrategies. I've been doing this for ten years now.