Entry 2 – October 27, 2024

I should start from the beginning, shouldn’t I?

My mental health has been slowly deteriorating for the past year or so, along with Ryan’s. As much as anyone told me I should speak to them, or call them, or tell them anything pertinent to my life. I just couldn’t. Since my last relationship, I have found it hard to trust my small circle of friends and chosen family with anything, let alone my feelings.

Simply put, I was starting to think that he and I were no longer on the same page, but I didn’t know who to talk to about it. He has been struggling to find purpose for the last few years, and it started to wear on me. I never blamed him for my feelings – I simply thought that it was an internal struggle and that I would get over it. The more I blamed myself, however, the less interested in life I became. The less interested in my life I became, I should say. 

Counting the same number of ceiling tiles in a hospital room for days on end really makes you consider what matters to you. (There are 46, by the way.) Although, I can’t say I ever thought Ryan didn’t matter to me, only that I wasn’t sure what I was doing anymore. I knew I loved him, but I started to question if my love was enough.

Let’s go back to a year ago when I was confronted by the idea that my goals were not aligned with where I was physically or financially. It’s all I could think about, and I wanted to focus on training more while building a business. Although I mentioned this to Ryan, he was struggling with his own goals and mine (from my perspective) didn’t seem to be as important. The perspective is important here, because that was not at all true. 

I was overthinking.

Now look at me, I’m telling strangers on the internet about all my deep dark thoughts regarding my relationship with my favorite person. From overthinking to oversharing in T-1 year. 

Ryan is a scientist. He loves science and biochemistry. There are only two things that come before me in his mind. First, his precious kitty, Chance. Second, lifting heavy shit. For him, science and lifting are fundamental characteristics of his personality. If you take those away, he’s a shell. Today, he’s a shell of himself. He doesn’t have a job and now he doesn’t have physical activity. He’s sitting in a hospital bed nodding off from narcotics in the most agonizing pain I’ve ever seen. This is going to make us both insane and broke.

I thought his depressive state over the past year was simply him adjusting and preparing to pivot his career. I internalized his responses and actions as something I was doing. I was prepared to leave, because I thought I was bad for him. I thought I wasn’t doing enough and that he would be better off without me. I wanted to be better and I wanted him to be better, but I didn’t know what to do to fix whatever seemed to be broken.

We were both depressed and we each thought that the other one didn’t want to be with us anymore. Sometimes you lie to yourself and believe it without any evidence. 

My world suddenly stopped on September 28 for the second time in my life, and I was met with the harsh reminder that everything moves forward even if you don’t. Ryan was laying in his bed, drenched in cold sweats as I begged him to let me call an ambulance. He pushed it off for days because he doesn’t have health insurance. (Something I previously suggested he needed for emergencies.) He was septic with a 6 cm abscess on his glute. We spent 8 days in the hospital and they sent him home on 10 days of antibiotics. 4 days after the last dose of antibiotics, we returned to the hospital because the back pain he was experiencing had him bedridden. Neither of us wanted to be back here, especially so close to my birthday.

Now I’m sitting here, listening to the rhythmic sounds of him napping, hoping this infection is finally being treated correctly. Glad he’s finally getting some sleep, even if it’s not deep sleep.

I’m so scared I might lose him. 

Truthfully, I was scared to lose him a month ago, too. Not for the same reason, but a void would have been there. He is my best friend. I know a lot of people say that about their partner or spouse, but I mean that. Even believing I didn’t want to be married didn’t stop me from seeing him as the best person I know. Ryan will always be the person I want beside me through any fight I face. 

Fight with me, fight for me, and fight me. I didn’t know that’s what I was looking for in a partner, but that’s what I found on every level. 

He will make it out of this. We will make it out of this. Bruised, beaten and held together by duct tape and dreams. I have to believe that we’re strong enough to fight this. It’s what we were made to do.