You were my black, when everything was white.
You stole my days from under me and turned them all to nights.
You tore me down by starting them but never finishing fights,
And holding my heart in your hands was all that felt alright.
This pain isn't new; I'm struggling to breathe,
But down here on my knees...
I find my religion, and pray for release.
Your words are just air, and your lungs are too tight,
Something has cracked and there's a flickering of white.
But sadness consumes me, as it does in its way,
It protects me and warms me on the coldest of days.
I choose to survive, to be happy and 'fine',
I tell sadness to leave, "Today's only mine."
I offer my soul, as tired as it is,
But you turn it away with a bite and a hiss.
No, "Sorry" isn't enough, you know this by now,
Yet the games continue, as the pain makes me howl.
The howls turn to 'why?'s, the questions to cries,
The pain, still as sharp, is lessened by your lies.
The memories aren't balanced, bad wins every time...
You're a wild cat, untameable,
An anchor-less yacht.
And as I prayed for love, for me, tonight; for you I simply forgot.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Saturday, October 20, 2012
After a While
“After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and letting go of self,
Between holding a hand and letting go of self,
And you learn that it’s okay to lean on others
And sometimes you need the security of companionship.
And sometimes you need the security of companionship.
And you begin to learn that some kisses are meant as contracts
And, sometimes, a present is a promise of friendship and fidelity,
And, sometimes, a present is a promise of friendship and fidelity,
And you begin to accept that you are successful
With your head up and your eyes open
With the confidence of a woman, not the insecurity of a child,
With your head up and your eyes open
With the confidence of a woman, not the insecurity of a child,
And you learn to build your roads towards tomorrow
Because today is just a path towards where you want to be
And your future is what you choose to make of it.
Because today is just a path towards where you want to be
And your future is what you choose to make of it.
After a while you learn…
That the bright light of day helps a soul grow and flourish.
So you plant your garden and decorate your soul,
But you love and appreciate the people who bring you flowers.
But you love and appreciate the people who bring you flowers.
You learn that you really can be loved…
That you really are strong
And you really do have worth…
And you learn and learn…
With every hello,
With every goodbye,
With every day you live,
With every goodbye,
With every day you live,
You learn.”
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Splash
Basically, you spend roughly 23 hours a day not wanting to do it, then an hour or so wanting to die, then the next 23 hours walking and moaning like the Tin Man. It's great fun.
Hopefully in another 26 days I'll be able to type with my elbows off the wood, it's not very comfortable.
I don't get to go out and see friends, and no one really comes to see me; so this is my main distraction from things at the moment and it's a good way to get out the pain I'm feeling inside.
You know when you're competing with another girl, for a guy? Well, if you don't know, it hurts more than labour (it's like giving birth not knowing whether you're having a doll or a baby, there's no guarantee the end is worth all the pain). Your heart constantly races and you feel like you've got to be on your best behaviour not only so you don't lose said 'guy', but also because you don't want the other girl to have him- he is yours. You want to say something, you need to open your heart and say you don't want to live without him but you can't because it will scare him off... But if you don't tell him, he won't want you because you don't want him?! Oh hell.
Anyway- I've been there done that for a long time now, sometimes without knowing there was another girl competing too...
So I haven't always been on my 'best' behaviour, because I have been busy raising my child and keeping us alive... And here we are.
My point to this post, I will eventually get to, but right now it's all a bit of a mess. I just get these "Oh, that'll make a good blog entry" ideas but I sort of forget to take the 'first left' and have to go all the way up the blogging motorway and do an illegal u-turn...
Damn just went past it again. Here we go. Good thing I've got petrol. (Well actually I don't, thanks Jillian)
There may be another girl or 5. But if there isn't, then there is two of him. And I'm competing with him, for him.
Isn't that ridiculous? How said 'guy' can be standing in his own way?!
Spent 4 years climbing the ladder to get to a diving board- 4 years of climbing is not so fun when you're swatting off zombies and mosquito's at your feet... Well 4 years of climbing isn't fun no matter what...
4 years climbing to the top- view is pretty damn good and the water looks mighty inviting all the way down there, but, lots of people are saying "Pfft, they won't jump". One of you does. And the other just can't. They were half right, as per usual.
Halfway down to the water, I realise am smiling. I am high on adrenalin and I throw out my hand, expecting him to grab it, to say "Yes I'm here, I wasn't behind you for the climb but I'm here now" and to bask in the craziness with me.
But he's not there.
I've committed to this bloody jump now haven't I.. I've got to hit that water on my own, there's no one there to take the pain away, nothing to soothe the harsh slap of water, and then I'll be submerged and then I'll have to climb out, humiliated I'm alone... It's not worth it any more and 4 years worth of climbing is 4 years worth of falling... Falling back through the 9am-outside-school-pool (that the teachers never got in, funny that!) icey blue water, falling through the heartache again. But my body is in a ball by the time I realise I'm in the water. I did it subconsciously to protect myself from the harshness, the pain, the cold.
I protected myself, like all those other times.
I'm still shivering, a bit, but I'm almost dry. Almost...
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Sweet Nothing (Calvin Harris and Florence)
You took my heart and you held it in your mouth
And, with a word all my love came rushing out
And, every whisper, it's the worst, emptied out by a single word
There is a hollow in me now
So I put my faith in something unknown
I'm living on such sweet nothing
But I'm trying to hope with nothing to hold
I'm living on such sweet nothing
And it's hard to learn
And it's hard to love
When you're giving me such sweet nothing
Sweet nothing, sweet nothing
You're giving me such sweet nothing
It isn't easy for me to let it go
Cause
I've swallowed every single word
And
Every whisper, every sigh
Eats away at this heart of mine
And there is a hollow in me now
So I put my faith in something unknown
I'm living on such sweet nothing
But I'm trying to hope with nothing to hold
I'm living on such sweet nothing
And it's hard to learn
And it's hard to love
When you're giving me such sweet nothing
Sweet nothing, sweet nothing
You're giving me such sweet nothing
And it's not enough
To tell me that you care
When, we both know the words are empty air
You give me nothing
THIS.
Climbing
"You cannot push anyone up the ladder unless he is willing to climb."
Almost want to say "Enough Said.", but there's so much more I need to say.
I haven't spoken to my mum in almost a week. Which is a ridiculously long time when we usually speak for a good hour on the phone each day. We live 5 minutes from each other.
She has MS- google it. I'm not going to delve into that because I'd be here all night, but basically, it not only effects (or affects?!) her body but her mental state as well. I've kind of always been the mother, and she's kind of always been the daughter. It's just the way it's kind-of-always been!
For the past couple of years, I've not only been raising my daughter but also been my mums main support person. Her 'friends' seem to come and go, there's always two sides to a story, I guess. She did have a boyfriend (2003-2007), who she moved to the other side of the country for.. But he ended up taking all her money, emotionally manipulating her against me and physically abusing me- which I still don't think anyone believes me over, because I didn't want to get CYF's involved (I knew I'd get even more hurt/cause my mum more strife).
Being the 'main support person', it means most days I have to endure the side effects of her M.S- sometimes it's abuse about my brother (whom she lives with, and his girlfriend) or his girlfriend, sometimes it's about my dad (they divorced when I was 2), sometimes about her own brothers or deceased parents... And sometimes it's about me. Well most times it's about me, or comes back to me.
Long story short, with my mum, I have to bite my tongue. I can't justify anything, I can't defend myself or my own family because then she loses it or hangs up- or both. I'm always "defensive" and there's always sarcasm thrown at me.
One of the last conversations we had, she was talking about my brother. He is now 28, owns his own home, has a steady job/income, is self-sufficient and looks after my mum/his girlfriend. He is a brilliant man, very clever, calm and collected- oh and plays the guitar (many types) excellently. Anyway, mum likes to go back to the past, and by past I mean 1993 when my parents divorced. My brother is not my dad's son, and his dad lives in Australia.
Mum likes to go back there and trawl through every memory (which I have no doubt is painful for her), and remind me how much better I've had it than my brother. I'll just say quickly that my dad worked fulltime (Marine Surveyor) and raised me mostly on his own as mum was too sick. So, no, I didn't have 'a mother and a father', and neither did my brother. There's no competition or jealousy between my brother and I- we love each other dearly and he is a fantastic uncle to my daughter. I have to let things slide- I have to calm her down and tell her "That's how you feel, rightfully, but S (my brother) is fine. He is happy, he is fine. He's doing well... He's okay now.". Meanwhile I'm thinking "Oh dear god shut up or I will throw this phone at the wall. I know it was hard, all divorces are. It's not my fault his dad lives in Australia, it's not my fault my dad looked after me, if he didn't you couldn't have!!!". I have caused my tongue to bleed from biting it, many times.
Her reply was "Yes he is, and I have myself to thank for who he is. I raised him on my own without my parents help, without a fairy godmother and with no help from anyone. I did it ON MY OWN.". This was very much a dig at me, I don't know why. Someone is always jealous/envious of my life and it baffles me, it kills me that most days its my own mother. Apparently my grandparents did help her financially and in no way was she alone- but she pushed away all support that was offered; I haven't.
My dad has money, he's not rolling in it but he's able to feed and clothe himself easily. I've never had money thrown at me. I've had to beg or work for mostly everything I've been given. Dad and I weren't close during my teenage years and before I had my daughter- he didn't want me to have her but when she was born he changed completely (typical!). My "Fairy Godmother" is a very close friend of mine, who my mum knew before I did (she worked at the MS Society) but mum ofcourse ruined that relationship- for too many reasons to write. But yes, I do have (emotional, a little financial and also child-minding) support now, none of which is taken for granted. I appreciate all the help I'm given but I do know I could do it on my own if I had to. I've had my dads wealth used against me my whole life, mostly by my mother, but also people think I'm spoilt- I wish I was sometimes!!!! I have to laugh it off but it does hurt that people don't think I've worked for anything I own, or have achieved.
When someone has a mental illness, or illness, you have to loosen the lead. You have to cut all expectations. You have to bite your tongue until it bleeds. You have to forgive and forget the things said- of course it makes a difference when they actually apologise though (which never happens here). You have to put yourself in their shoes, as best as you can, and empathise.
Sometimes you have to show up on their doorstep with chocolate. Sometimes you have to save for that perfume they cry over not being able to afford, just so they stop crying- you'd do almost anything to see them happy because of the times they made you happy.
But sometimes, after all those other sometimes, you have to ask yourself "What are *they* doing to help themselves?"...
My mum pushes away any support people offer her, or accepts it and ends up ruining it somehow- and blames it on the other person. I know a few people who don't like taking responsibility for their actions...!
Yeah, anyway. There comes a point, when being someone's support person becomes too much. When it effects your life, your own moods, your sleep... I'm a mother too!!! I can't put myself first, it's my girls position on the leaderboard, and when someone ELSE wants to come second instead of me- not gonna happen.
I've currently got two people fighting to come after my girl on the board, and that'd mean I come fourth.
No way.
I've always loved people 'unconditionally' and done what they wanted, just to please them. I still do love these two people dearly, it'll never go away, but right now I need to come second- not fourth.
I'm trying to plan my 'fresh start' and it's a huge thing to make life-changing decisions, so I need a clear head.
The two people I'm talking about, well it's pretty obvious one is my mum. The other one knows who he is. All these blog posts are about him.
I can't pour all my energy into people who not only don't appreciate it, but don't want it and don't want to change.
Be the victim, but let me move on with my life.
I can't give anymore than I've given. Years and years wasted on trying to help him change, not his clothes or haircut or weight- his behaviour which is breaking him apart, and our family which has been broken for a long time. Hours and hours on the phone, listening to abuse, trying to calm her down... I don't have the time anymore and it never did her any good.
I'm done. I'm moving the hell on whether they want me to or not.
And it's funny- they both think the other is an awful person.
They are exactly the same.
Almost want to say "Enough Said.", but there's so much more I need to say.
I haven't spoken to my mum in almost a week. Which is a ridiculously long time when we usually speak for a good hour on the phone each day. We live 5 minutes from each other.
She has MS- google it. I'm not going to delve into that because I'd be here all night, but basically, it not only effects (or affects?!) her body but her mental state as well. I've kind of always been the mother, and she's kind of always been the daughter. It's just the way it's kind-of-always been!
For the past couple of years, I've not only been raising my daughter but also been my mums main support person. Her 'friends' seem to come and go, there's always two sides to a story, I guess. She did have a boyfriend (2003-2007), who she moved to the other side of the country for.. But he ended up taking all her money, emotionally manipulating her against me and physically abusing me- which I still don't think anyone believes me over, because I didn't want to get CYF's involved (I knew I'd get even more hurt/cause my mum more strife).
Being the 'main support person', it means most days I have to endure the side effects of her M.S- sometimes it's abuse about my brother (whom she lives with, and his girlfriend) or his girlfriend, sometimes it's about my dad (they divorced when I was 2), sometimes about her own brothers or deceased parents... And sometimes it's about me. Well most times it's about me, or comes back to me.
Long story short, with my mum, I have to bite my tongue. I can't justify anything, I can't defend myself or my own family because then she loses it or hangs up- or both. I'm always "defensive" and there's always sarcasm thrown at me.
One of the last conversations we had, she was talking about my brother. He is now 28, owns his own home, has a steady job/income, is self-sufficient and looks after my mum/his girlfriend. He is a brilliant man, very clever, calm and collected- oh and plays the guitar (many types) excellently. Anyway, mum likes to go back to the past, and by past I mean 1993 when my parents divorced. My brother is not my dad's son, and his dad lives in Australia.
Mum likes to go back there and trawl through every memory (which I have no doubt is painful for her), and remind me how much better I've had it than my brother. I'll just say quickly that my dad worked fulltime (Marine Surveyor) and raised me mostly on his own as mum was too sick. So, no, I didn't have 'a mother and a father', and neither did my brother. There's no competition or jealousy between my brother and I- we love each other dearly and he is a fantastic uncle to my daughter. I have to let things slide- I have to calm her down and tell her "That's how you feel, rightfully, but S (my brother) is fine. He is happy, he is fine. He's doing well... He's okay now.". Meanwhile I'm thinking "Oh dear god shut up or I will throw this phone at the wall. I know it was hard, all divorces are. It's not my fault his dad lives in Australia, it's not my fault my dad looked after me, if he didn't you couldn't have!!!". I have caused my tongue to bleed from biting it, many times.
Her reply was "Yes he is, and I have myself to thank for who he is. I raised him on my own without my parents help, without a fairy godmother and with no help from anyone. I did it ON MY OWN.". This was very much a dig at me, I don't know why. Someone is always jealous/envious of my life and it baffles me, it kills me that most days its my own mother. Apparently my grandparents did help her financially and in no way was she alone- but she pushed away all support that was offered; I haven't.
My dad has money, he's not rolling in it but he's able to feed and clothe himself easily. I've never had money thrown at me. I've had to beg or work for mostly everything I've been given. Dad and I weren't close during my teenage years and before I had my daughter- he didn't want me to have her but when she was born he changed completely (typical!). My "Fairy Godmother" is a very close friend of mine, who my mum knew before I did (she worked at the MS Society) but mum ofcourse ruined that relationship- for too many reasons to write. But yes, I do have (emotional, a little financial and also child-minding) support now, none of which is taken for granted. I appreciate all the help I'm given but I do know I could do it on my own if I had to. I've had my dads wealth used against me my whole life, mostly by my mother, but also people think I'm spoilt- I wish I was sometimes!!!! I have to laugh it off but it does hurt that people don't think I've worked for anything I own, or have achieved.
When someone has a mental illness, or illness, you have to loosen the lead. You have to cut all expectations. You have to bite your tongue until it bleeds. You have to forgive and forget the things said- of course it makes a difference when they actually apologise though (which never happens here). You have to put yourself in their shoes, as best as you can, and empathise.
Sometimes you have to show up on their doorstep with chocolate. Sometimes you have to save for that perfume they cry over not being able to afford, just so they stop crying- you'd do almost anything to see them happy because of the times they made you happy.
But sometimes, after all those other sometimes, you have to ask yourself "What are *they* doing to help themselves?"...
My mum pushes away any support people offer her, or accepts it and ends up ruining it somehow- and blames it on the other person. I know a few people who don't like taking responsibility for their actions...!
Yeah, anyway. There comes a point, when being someone's support person becomes too much. When it effects your life, your own moods, your sleep... I'm a mother too!!! I can't put myself first, it's my girls position on the leaderboard, and when someone ELSE wants to come second instead of me- not gonna happen.
I've currently got two people fighting to come after my girl on the board, and that'd mean I come fourth.
No way.
I've always loved people 'unconditionally' and done what they wanted, just to please them. I still do love these two people dearly, it'll never go away, but right now I need to come second- not fourth.
I'm trying to plan my 'fresh start' and it's a huge thing to make life-changing decisions, so I need a clear head.
The two people I'm talking about, well it's pretty obvious one is my mum. The other one knows who he is. All these blog posts are about him.
I can't pour all my energy into people who not only don't appreciate it, but don't want it and don't want to change.
Be the victim, but let me move on with my life.
I can't give anymore than I've given. Years and years wasted on trying to help him change, not his clothes or haircut or weight- his behaviour which is breaking him apart, and our family which has been broken for a long time. Hours and hours on the phone, listening to abuse, trying to calm her down... I don't have the time anymore and it never did her any good.
I'm done. I'm moving the hell on whether they want me to or not.
And it's funny- they both think the other is an awful person.
They are exactly the same.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Stop tearing your hair out.
My friend told me, earlier this evening, that "maybe I should blog" tonight.
Today has been rough...
The last few days haven't been much better.
Don't get me started on the weeks and months.
I don't really know where to start, but I look at the past few lines I've written and realise I started just fine; it's been done without even noticing.
Sometimes I guess life is a bit like that - it just 'happens while we're busy making plans', right?
Days don't stop. The Earth doesn't really care whether we've had a good/bad/wonderful/awful day. It keeps on spinning.- Which I used to think was a bad thing, but today, it feels like the best thing. Something has to stay the same, please, anything, just some small drop of normality...
I seem to be in a better mood when the Sun is out; but in an even better mood once the stars prick the night sky with light. There's something about the stars, they make me feel hopeful and safe, they bring a bit of magic to the darkness. Just imagine how I feel about the moon! haha..
I know that for the past couple of months, I've lost what small control I had of my emotions. They're "all over the place like a mad woman's shit" as my mum would say. For a good week (well, not sure, read my last post "Green Bird") I lost myself. I continued parenting, because I had to, no one was going to 'take over'. And then in the times I was alone (if my girl wasn't there, or was asleep), I would lose track of time. I would cry so hard I couldn't breathe- all air was gone. I thought I was going to die and I will be honest, I wasn't scared.
I opened up, I was trampled on and then I saw the back of him.
There are a lot of painful memories from the past 4 years but what is most painful, I think, is when I finally give him what he wants; and it's not enough. This has not been the first time.
It's like tearing your hair out because the person wants a bald girlfriend. You tear it out, to prove a point- to prove how much pain you're going through for them; you pull out each hair one by one.
You feel ugly, you feel disgusting when you're bald. You liked your hair, you had body issues but you were OKAY with your hair. And now it's gone.
And now he's cheating on you with a girl who's hair is down to her ass.*
I think that's me done for the night.
Just listened to this song and bawled my eyes out (first time in a few hours, I'm proud!), it even talks about stars haha... (I thought of it when I wrote "tearing your hair out")
This.
* perhaps not actually cheating this time, but it doesn't make any difference any more.
Today has been rough...
The last few days haven't been much better.
Don't get me started on the weeks and months.
I don't really know where to start, but I look at the past few lines I've written and realise I started just fine; it's been done without even noticing.
Sometimes I guess life is a bit like that - it just 'happens while we're busy making plans', right?
Days don't stop. The Earth doesn't really care whether we've had a good/bad/wonderful/awful day. It keeps on spinning.- Which I used to think was a bad thing, but today, it feels like the best thing. Something has to stay the same, please, anything, just some small drop of normality...
I seem to be in a better mood when the Sun is out; but in an even better mood once the stars prick the night sky with light. There's something about the stars, they make me feel hopeful and safe, they bring a bit of magic to the darkness. Just imagine how I feel about the moon! haha..
I know that for the past couple of months, I've lost what small control I had of my emotions. They're "all over the place like a mad woman's shit" as my mum would say. For a good week (well, not sure, read my last post "Green Bird") I lost myself. I continued parenting, because I had to, no one was going to 'take over'. And then in the times I was alone (if my girl wasn't there, or was asleep), I would lose track of time. I would cry so hard I couldn't breathe- all air was gone. I thought I was going to die and I will be honest, I wasn't scared.
I opened up, I was trampled on and then I saw the back of him.
There are a lot of painful memories from the past 4 years but what is most painful, I think, is when I finally give him what he wants; and it's not enough. This has not been the first time.
It's like tearing your hair out because the person wants a bald girlfriend. You tear it out, to prove a point- to prove how much pain you're going through for them; you pull out each hair one by one.
You feel ugly, you feel disgusting when you're bald. You liked your hair, you had body issues but you were OKAY with your hair. And now it's gone.
And now he's cheating on you with a girl who's hair is down to her ass.*
I think that's me done for the night.
Just listened to this song and bawled my eyes out (first time in a few hours, I'm proud!), it even talks about stars haha... (I thought of it when I wrote "tearing your hair out")
This.
* perhaps not actually cheating this time, but it doesn't make any difference any more.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Green Bird
My mind is wavering between "It's okay, I can't make him happy any more, I have to accept it and move on with my life" and "I finally let him break the walls down again for the first time in years, and he says he's ready and loves me, then rejects me. Why?! How can I be willing to forgive him for his mistakes, and love him again, yet he can't do the same for me...".
My heart? It's hiding under the bed, I think.
In short (which won't be short at all); I've been stuck to this man since the day we met- 19th September 2008. He has set up shop in the back of my mind, heart- the back of everything. Sometimes he ventures out and clogs my vision- sometimes he is all there is. Someone may as well have handcuffed us together that first night. Although we have never lived together, we have been very close.
We have a beautiful daughter together who arrived almost 2 years to the day we met. She has brought me back to life and I will never forget that; the day she was born, I was re-born.
At the beginning of the year, after what- 3 years on and off-, I began to really fall out of love with him. I realised my needs (as a mother, a partner and a woman) weren't being met. I needed wholehearted commitment and I needed support (financial but mostly emotional). We weren't right for each other even though we considered ourselves to be each others 'soulmate'. For months on end he has begged me to go back to him; but I've felt nothing. I turned myself off from him because I knew we wouldn't work and he wasn't ready to settle down with his family.
To me, a soulmate is a best friend on a level previously untouched. A soulmate is someone who doesn't necessarily make your stomach jump with excitement, but they comfort your whole body with a smile. They are that puzzle piece you could never find; you know the one I mean- you put together a 1000 piece puzzle and you go to click that last piece in but low and behold it has grown legs and buggered off. Let's say I started this puzzle in 2003 and in 2008 I found the missing piece. After 5 years I was beginning to lose hope- I thought maybe it'd been vacuumed up or the cat had eaten it. But no, this puzzle piece stepped out (I guess it did grow legs) of a white Caldina in a fur-rimmed hooded jacket, jeans and skate shoes at 8pm on a cold Friday evening.
It was about August this year when things went really 'belly up' for us. For all those months that had passed, while he was begging to have me back (on his terms, not mine), he was skiving around with other women. I don't really want to go into the whole story but it was nothing new. What hurt the most was that he had not only been lying to me, but himself too. He told me that he had changed and there was no one else; that it was only me he wanted, I was enough, etc etc blah blah blah. It was very painful but the anger took over my hurt and tears. I was running on adrenalin for weeks.
A few days after our blow up; after I found out about what had been going on, and I confronted him, I decided to see a lawyer. I needed a parenting order (set hours and times, written in a signed contract) because I knew our communication was going to break down many times in the future- not just now. I knew what our wee girls routine was, and what she was/wasn't ready for. He fought it, because he thought I was trying to take her away from him- which I'd never do unless her safety was being compromised. Eventually things got really out of hand and I made contact with him to try and talk him down from wherever the hell he was going with all of this, as he was threatening 'court'.
For the first time in our 4 year 'relationship', we connected. I apologised to him for letting our relationship fall apart although I knew/know it was nowhere near my fault- we were both to blame. I apologised for not being there for him, but it was his lack of being able to communicate with me, that caused the lying and sneaking around etc. If only he had told me that he loved me but was going to move on; the lies would never have happened, the hurt could have been saved.
We decided, after a few days and a meeting with both our lawyers, that we would try and make it work properly. I bought the shower gel, the stupid shampoo and the toothbrush. He bought himself a coffee machine. We were going to finally commit; with truths being said every day to each other and honesty at every corner- even FORCING ourselves (maybe just myself) to admit to how we were feeling instead of just saying "F U" over text. I cooked him dinners again. We woke up with our wee girl running into the bedroom, she squeezed herself between us and said "MUM! DAD!" over and over with a huge smile. I was over the moon; not just to feel loved/love him again but to see her so happy from something so simple. I grew up with my parents divorced so never really felt that 'love', I suppose. I always missed my mum when I was at dads, and my dad when I was at mums. It was horrible.
Then, he stopped staying. He owns his own business (works from home) and over-commits to that. Always has, always will probably. I know why he has to but what frustrates me is that he doesn't work set hours, so can't be here to get our girl into bed/have dinner with us etc.. It's just barbaric to me as I grew up having dinner with my dad every night I was there, he was and IS a workaholic but always made sure he was there for me until I went to bed (then he'd work some more!). From my perspective, he takes on too much work and can't make the deadlines anyway. He likes to hide behind his desk- not even working all the time. Not ONCE in the 4 years I've known him, have we ever spent a weekend together without him working/going home to work. We went to Akaroa in April for my 21st and the second we got home he went back to his house to work. Again, I grew up like that, always waiting for my dad to say "Right, better go work"- I always felt I had to try and compete for his attention and it did destroy a bit of me I don't think I'll ever get back.
Anyway so he stopped staying. I felt I was losing him. I told him he was either going to have to step up, commit, support, work certain hours/be here certain times for our daughter- or to simply stay away, if he couldn't do those things for us to work. He said he didn't know what to do. As soon as I start 'pressuring' him (this is why I switched off from him earlier in the year and decided to give up) he backs up- but tells me it's my fault for pushing him away. As soon as I need him (I don't ever want to relive my 31 hour labour again) he's gone, or here, but completely distant and uncomfortable. It was July 2010 when he first stayed with me for a night- after nearly 2 yrs.
It's been a week or two since I gave him that ultimatum. I don't know the exact quantity of tears I have cried- it must be a lot because the skin around my eyes has literally burnt away (see attached picture below, it hurts a lot!). I don't know how many prayers I've said- I'm not religious. I don't know how many times my mum has told me to walk away. I don't know how much weight I've lost or gained- I've not eaten much but have drunk a lot of wine (not too much, I'm a responsible parent!!!). I don't really know how many headaches, how many stomach aches, how many 'WHY ME''s have been asked to no one in particular... I don't know much any more. But I do know this is worse than 31 hours of labour. I would rather birth 20 babies than this (no it's not an invitation!). I broke my toe a few weekends ago and I would rather do that one hundred times more than deal with this pain. For a long time I have known that if I were to 'try again' with him, if it went wrong, no one would care- they all think I'm stupid for letting him back in, they think that I bring on my own problems... So I haven't really told anyone about what I've been going through, in fear of being stomped on even more than he has done to me.
A gorgeous little green bird has been locked in a cage for a very long time, eating the bits she's been given-sometimes really nice birdseed, sometimes a bloody good cracker... Then she decides she doesn't want to live like that; having great food every now and again, waiting for it, loving it, then not knowing when it's coming back- sometimes she doesn't get fed for days. So she gives up on the food. She just perches, with her eyes closed, hoping for some sort of 'great warrior bird' to rescue her. Days, months and what seem like the longest nights in her life, seem to drag on by. Suddenly, she is moved into a sunnier area of the house. She is fed by a new hand, some pretty good birdseed comes every day now. She is beginning to feel things might be good for longer than she thought. She is let out of her cage for the first time. She feels the wind under her emerald wings and hops from chair to chair. She lets the new man pick her up, even though she is wary because no one has ever been this nice to her; she lets him. The new man is gentle and caring, he strokes her head and feathers- she buries into his neck and feels safe for once. Then one morning she wakes up and it's dark again. Someone throws her a cracker. She's not fed for days and her water turns as green as her feathers. Her hope is gone. She closes her eyes and tries to forget that things were perfect for such a short time- maybe it wasn't real at all.
Now, tell me (or don't), do you get where I'm coming from...?
I'm closing my eyes now.
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