losing my tits and confirming abuse
Well today it's been confirmed for me. My BFF IS an abusive prick after all. I've been pretty suspicious lately. I really feel abused. Subtly, though, not out front kind of abuse. Well he posted a whine about how they put "abusive" in his permanent record at work. Saying how unfair it was, because the person with whom he had the interaction was the onebeing abusive to him. Yeah, right. Nope. Not necessarily. This guy is always seeing everything in the light of "but what about MY needs?"
Which is my seque to the tits. I had my consult for surgery this morning and it could come as early as three weeks! Well I was so thrilled with this news I posted twice via instagram (which also posts to facebook.) Wouldn't you know it, BFF comments on both posts how unfair it is that he has gone 20 years with tiny titties that cause him dysphoria because the surgeon wouldn't remove them.
I've gotten the deets. I've studied the medicine. I can tell you they CANT take what's left. they're his moobs because he's fat. It can't be excised. At best they'd leave him with weird hollow scoops that might never properly heal, might just get fat again, and would put his already unhealthy body through way too much trauma. I wouldn't cut his chest with what I've learned. But I've told him this. It doesn't suit his "poor me" narrative so the info was discarded. So I tried responding with "please don't hammer on my happiness with your unhappiness, besides, you had it done, just not well enough to suit you. I hope you are able to get it done the way you want." Nope, he comes right back instants later disagreeing that it was done, but nothing about "sorry for raining on your parade." And that's what pisses me off most about him. He fucking rains on my parade every goddamn time. Whether I want sympathy and get a tirade on his problems, or I want to celebrate, and still get a tirade on his problems. He comes over and dominates the conversation with... tirades of his problems. Enjoys my hospitality ungraciously, complaining about anything that isn't exactly to his liking. I'm fed up. Really am. I don't give a shit anymore. Good luck, asshole, on your slow slide into homeless insanity, seems to me you won't do the hard work of pulling up your emotional socks and learning not to be such a fucking baby.
So, do I hold him at arm's length on facebook? Do I ghost him and try and forget his existence? Do I tell him directly and ask him to fuck off forever? I honestly don't know. The latter is best for me, the former is best for him, and the middle is easiest.
I really don't need someone who's always got it so fucking hard that my needs are secondary to this week's crisis.
Which is my seque to the tits. I had my consult for surgery this morning and it could come as early as three weeks! Well I was so thrilled with this news I posted twice via instagram (which also posts to facebook.) Wouldn't you know it, BFF comments on both posts how unfair it is that he has gone 20 years with tiny titties that cause him dysphoria because the surgeon wouldn't remove them.
I've gotten the deets. I've studied the medicine. I can tell you they CANT take what's left. they're his moobs because he's fat. It can't be excised. At best they'd leave him with weird hollow scoops that might never properly heal, might just get fat again, and would put his already unhealthy body through way too much trauma. I wouldn't cut his chest with what I've learned. But I've told him this. It doesn't suit his "poor me" narrative so the info was discarded. So I tried responding with "please don't hammer on my happiness with your unhappiness, besides, you had it done, just not well enough to suit you. I hope you are able to get it done the way you want." Nope, he comes right back instants later disagreeing that it was done, but nothing about "sorry for raining on your parade." And that's what pisses me off most about him. He fucking rains on my parade every goddamn time. Whether I want sympathy and get a tirade on his problems, or I want to celebrate, and still get a tirade on his problems. He comes over and dominates the conversation with... tirades of his problems. Enjoys my hospitality ungraciously, complaining about anything that isn't exactly to his liking. I'm fed up. Really am. I don't give a shit anymore. Good luck, asshole, on your slow slide into homeless insanity, seems to me you won't do the hard work of pulling up your emotional socks and learning not to be such a fucking baby.
So, do I hold him at arm's length on facebook? Do I ghost him and try and forget his existence? Do I tell him directly and ask him to fuck off forever? I honestly don't know. The latter is best for me, the former is best for him, and the middle is easiest.
I really don't need someone who's always got it so fucking hard that my needs are secondary to this week's crisis.