Posts Tagged ‘relationships’

Taking Time

This feels too hard, already.

I’m not sure what to say, except I am going through some stuff right now, and I just need a bit of time. I am doing what I have to, and that feels too hard.

Apologies to all my ‘blog-friends’, I know I haven’t been commenting etc, I will be right back with you when life settles ūüôā Thankyou so much to those of you who have offered me support, guidance and empathy this year. The genuine warmth I feel from virtual strangers, mostly on the other side of the world never fails to give me hope for society.

To the very few ‘real-life friends’ who read this, thankyou for hanging in there with me this year.¬† I’m sorry I have fallen a little off the radar lately, my brain is just fried and I am struggling.¬†I’m sorry if I said I’d call you back, email you and then didn’t.¬† I’m sorry if I haven’t seemed interested, have forgotten your birthday, or just been uncaring.¬†I do care, and of course I’d pull myself together if anyone really needed me.¬† It’s just….hard….right now, to even follow a conversation.¬† Small talk, idle chit chat¬†just feels so distant and unrelatable.¬† I feel like I have nothing to say to anyone, and smiling and nodding is about the best I can do, until someone presses a little harder, digs deeper, and I just want to spew out a barrage of emotions and fears and information that is best left for therapy, not that I say much there, either.

I want to be back to myself, and I am trying, but please don’t be too disappointed¬†in me if I fail.¬† And if you are, maybe keep it to yourself.¬† I know I have disappointed a few people this year who have told me so, and I’m sure there are a few more who haven’t told me so. And there are the few who have pretty much cut me off completely, but that happens, and¬†really it’s preferable to being told ‘pull your socks up’, ‘get it together’ or ‘I thought you were better/stronger/tougher than this’.¬† And I’m not going to start with the ‘you should’ statements.

Theres not much anyone could say that I haven’t said to myself a thousand times over, but it still hurts.¬† And I do know how frustrating it can be watching someone seemingly¬†make alot of painful choices, but you never really know how they’re feeling, the entire circumstances,¬†and the effect you could have.

Anyway, now I’m just rambling.¬† Long story short, anything that has been said or done with the right intent I have appreciated immensely, even if I haven’t shown it.¬†Anything said with a layer of judgement, condescension, selfishness or superiority I haven’t ūüôā

If nothing else, I know who my true friends are now.¬† And I’m grateful ūüôā


So Craig said he wanted to come home, pretty much as soon as I completely gave up.

Life is funny like that.

I feel like I’m the one who needs some time now.¬† How does 8 fucking months sound to start with, while he tries to come up to my impossible standards?

It’s what I wanted, not in the way I wanted, and maybe too late….

Of course I’ll end up trying, I’m such a fucking optimist like that.

Or maybe I’m not, anymore….


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I’m going to tell Craig that I’m done with this pretending to be married when it suits him only, done with him treating me however he likes, done with rewarding his passivity by welcoming him back when he decides to rock up and throw a few relationship crumbs my way.

I’m not totally giving up on the relationship, just leaving it with him.¬† And I know I’ve been here before, but I’m stronger now, I hope.¬† And I don’t have anyone waiting in the wings to catch me for probably the first time in my life.

I’m not going to lie. Well, not here anyway.¬† I hope like hell he has some kind of epiphany on how to treat people, realises what he has put me through, does something awesome to make up for it and then we live happily ever after.

I know the chances are about 1736.562 trillion to 1, but hope floats.

I love him, but I need to love myself too.

And this is bullshit.

And I’m not coping, and have told him that.¬† Clearly didn’t mean too much to him, because here we are.¬† At the end of my fucking tether, with my brain about to explode out of my ears.

I have made myself sick over this, I have tried every approach from just waiting, to making ultimatums, to counselling to sort all my issues out, to being so fucking nice I make myself sick (because he can’t handle arguments) no matter how uncaring he is, to telling him straight exactly what I/ we need, to begging¬†asking¬†him to come back, to telling him I need a decision.¬† If there’s a method I haven’t tried, I’d love to hear it.

And he still won’t treat me how I need, he still won’t choose to be with me and Bailey fully, and that sucks.

Sure, he has done alot of lovely things for me, always buys me things, and is basically nice.

He also left me to go through cancer alone, and then pretty much had a tanty when my lovely daycare lady inadvertently mentioned that Bailey had spent a couple of extra days in her care, and that she was going to apply for a special grant for me.

He lied to me about another woman texting him, while I was having a miscarriage. I mean, when I was literally sitting on the couch, still bleeding, trying not to cry.

During the first conversation about said woman, we got onto talking about what we say about each other, and I said that I still say nice things about him, and asked if he’d said one nice thing about me to her, and he replied with ” I can’t really tell people what I like about you, I don’t kiss and tell”.¬† I was stupid enough to continue the conversation and he ended up saying “What? You’re a good fuck. It’s a compliment.” And then got annoyed at me for being pissed off, because he was obviously joking.

And he never used to be like this, I swear. That is where the guilt comes from, because what if he is sick, really sick, and I am just walking away? 

I’m sick, I get help, because I don’t want to inflict it on my family. I know it is not always that simple though.

I’ve begged him to get counselling.¬† It’s been 8 months.¬† I’ve begged him to see a decent Dr, and to be honest with them.¬† I don’t know what else to do.

Sounds awful, but if it’s me or him, I have to choose me. And that is what this is coming down to.¬† To be crude, I have more balls at my worst that he does at his best, and my son needs a parent, not someone who’s fun to play with when he feels like it, and who buys him cool toys.

¬†Fuck, I feel sick writing this, but if I publish it, plus tell some friends, maybe I won’t back out.

*deep breath, squeeze your eyes shut, and jump*


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If you let it.


This ‘thing’ with Craig, has been burning me for so long. This month is 8 months since we ‘separated’, 11 months since we got married.

But it was burning me long before that, if I’m honest with myself.¬† Which I’m starting to be.¬†

I still want him.

But as I just wrote, relationships take 2, not 1.

And I’ve just about had enough of feeling like a fucking doormat.¬† I’m starting to feel a bit over it, which I think is a good sign, because until now, I’ve just felt sad, dead and tired.¬†

Things have been better between us, lately.¬† I don’t think he realises it’s because I’ve just stopped expecting anything.

When you have no expectations, everything is a bonus.

He generally stays up for the weekend, and sometimes one night during the week.¬† He comes in on a Friday, I’m lucky if I get a hello.¬† No chance of a kiss or hug.¬† The last two weeks, I asked him to grab Bailey from daycare so I could have one night where I can go to work a bit later and not have to worry about coordinating daycare pickup, work hours and trying not to bring the horses in when it’s still really hot.

He sighs, says he’s tired from work.

I say, but he’s expecting you, he gets excited on Fridays because he knows you’re picking him up.

Alright, whatever.

Bailey loves his Daddy, idolises him, and that breaks my heart.



Having said all that, things usually pick up on the Saturday.  And I enjoy his company, and we have fun together.

I don’t know if what I feel is love anymore.

I think I want to stop fighting, let it fade, and see what happens.

Either he’ll pick up the slack, or he wont.

He won’t, I already know that.¬† But I want him to.

‘and I’m weeping, warm honey and milk’

¬†He won’t, and it’ll fade out, and that’s ok.

I’ll be ok.


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Dum, dum, du-dum.

Well, it was supposed to be Saturday…

Yes, I’m already married, but that was an impulsive Vegas wedding.¬† We had a nice family and friends wedding planned too, that we were still going to go through with…

Just a simple beach ceremony, and then dinner and dancing at a beach restaurant.¬† A dress made with material from my grandmothers wedding gown, an archway filled with flowers to match the ones in my hair.¬† A small wedding party, just us, Bailey as the ‘best man‘ and my best friend as bridesmaid.

Does this ever stop sucking?


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wrote about, is making my head spin.

And it’s making my breasts hurt, giving me stupid cravings, making me feel nauseas and dizzy…but I wouldn’t trade it.

Even though I was actively trying not to be in this situation, now that I am, I’d do anything to stay this way.¬†

This way = starts with a pr, ends in egnant.

And that’s awesome.¬† Not a fantastic time for me health-wise, at all. Or relationship-wise.

And I know there’s a decent chance I won’t stay this way, and that’s terrifying.

I have so many feelings about this.

Disbelief is a big one.  Because, yeah, I was trying not to, and used protection every. single. time.  And why now? Why not when I actually was trying?

I’m not complaining.¬† Just wondering about the chances.

I’m excited too, and trying not to be.¬† In my head ‘it’s’ already a baby, and I love babies, and I love being a mummy.

I’ll be heartbroken if anything goes wrong, that’s really the reason we stopped trying, because I wasn’t coping with miscarrying, and Bailey is a beautiful gift.

It felt greedy to keep asking.

But here I am.


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So, I have a


Well, sort of.

It’s my husband.¬† We’re seeing each other again….

So messy.¬† But I just can’t give up on us.¬† I’m praying he doesn’t rip my heart out this time around.¬†

I feel….ok. Like maybe I’ve turned some sort of corner.¬† And I know a few people are going to think I’m fucking stupid, blah, blah, blah, but I don’t care about other people’s opinions on my life¬†as much¬†anymore.¬†

Don’t want to speak too soon though.

Maybe being in remission is starting to set in properly, it has taken a while this time. 

I feel like I’m handling myself a bit better.

Last night I had….maybe one of the worst nightmares I’ve ever had.¬† The type where I wake up crying and shaking¬†and drenched in sweat.

It was about him of course, and me finding him, except he was alive, half alive and it was just graphic and awful and disgusting.

BUT I handled it and still managed to have an ok, stable day.

Might not sound like much to you, but it’s fairly big to me ūüôā


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about everything. Obviously.

Same as I don’t talk about everything.¬† I don’t think anyone does.¬†

What I do write, though, is painfully honest.¬† And yeah, it’s self-centered drivel, but I don’t care, my blog.¬† And I don’t like to put up alot of other people’s lives up here; just because I find it liberating to write whatever where anyone can see it, doesn’t mean I should impose that on others.

And some stuff is too confronting, too boring, too traumatising, too whatever.

People still judge though, on what they read, or in ‘real life’ on what they see.

And my god, it pisses me off.¬† But I’ll write more about that later.¬† I just seem to be copping it a bit lately, from people who have not much idea of what is going on with me.

No-one has asked if I’m ok.¬† If I need a hand.¬† If theres something I’m not telling them.

It’s like people just assume I’m acting screwy for the hell of it.¬† And that hurts.

I’m past feeling like I owe anyone an explanation at least.

So far past it, I’m just about at WHITE HOT MOTHERFUCKING RAGE.¬† Really, where the HELL do people get off assuming my life is easy, just because I can (usually) keep my shit together just enough for public appearances, look after B-man and go to my very part-time job.

I just…can’t seem to get to what I’m trying to say…

I’m sick of being judged, but I know nothing I do is going to stop it.¬† I never thought me seeming sick, would make people assume pretty much everything and anything other than that I’M ACTUALLY SICK.¬† I must be a pill junkie, or an alcoholic, or just awfully selfish and lazy.

I shouldn’t have to explain myself.¬† And if one of my friends or a family member started acting not like themselves, I’d be worried, ask what’s up.

I certainly wouldn’t totally invade their privacy, for example by looking through their house and sheds while they’re at work, even going as far as looking through the medicine cabinet, and STEALING the most incriminating items I could find.

Which, by the way, was half a bottle of vodka and ONE cigarette. For emergencies.

HOLY SHIT I am a badass, get me to rehab!

I hope they feel like MORONS.  Because I have absolutely NOTHING to hide.  There is nothing on this whole property I could get in trouble for.

‘We’ve just been worried, you haven’t seemed yourself’

“OH, I haven’t SEEMED MYSELF after my life falling apart?? Imagine that!¬†How about ASKING me about it?”

“Don’t take it so personally, you can’t blame us for looking into the situation, there’s Bailey to consider, and he hasn’t seemed that well on the odd occasion you bring him down, and he’s a bit thin”

“My child is fine. Thanks for your concern.¬† I feel really able to come to you if I start having a hard time handling life”

And that’s that, I’d say.

The concern over Bailey, that hurts though.¬† Because I fucking DOTE on that kid.¬† I’m not the most natural mother, hell, I was told I would never have kids so he’s kind of the surprise of my life but I LOVE him. I can honestly say he has never ever gone without.¬† For anything.¬† Anything within my control that is, of course he misses Daddy.

I looked at 4 different schools for him because I knew our local public wouldn’t suit.¬† I hate cooking, but I do it because I hate feeding him processed shit.¬† I love hanging out with him, and he is the sort of kid you can take anywhere and know he’ll behave.¬† He comes to work with me, and loves ‘helping’ put the horses to bed.

I love being a parent.  And I hate how defensive one comment has made me.



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