I continue in my naivety. I have continued to hold some belief in people that deserve none. One people in particular. So ashamed of my contribution to the mess our 15 years had dissolved into I felt one people in particular deserved the chance to deliver his retribution, had somehow earned the right to set his demons on me and take his moment of glory as they shredded my heart. Passive and understanding, I so didn't want to cry out at the pain, knowing that he needed to do it to set himself free. No-one has heard my cries. Those cries have been silent and accepting. Until now.
Because I can't take anymore. Because my spirit is now crying out its refusal to be broken by such relentless devils as have driven him to such dark places, to such horrible depths. My strength to accept his pain is indefatigable and his demons will soon tire of me and return unsated to him. They will continue to shred a heart - but not mine. Mine is no longer his.
My heart is the most precious thing I have in my life and though bruised and bleeding it still beats. And it will heal because I will not have it otherwise. I will not let anyone destroy such a glorious gift as that which is the very life of me. These may seem to you like the words of a dreamer, a romantic, maybe even someone slightly unhinged or out of touch with reality. But they are the words of my reality and I am entitled to have them.
The life to me that is important is not the stuff of our external world but the sparkling, enigmatic, so very difficult to catch hold of but so delightful to connect with internal world. That which makes us shudder at the vastness of the universe, tremble in the face of our mortality and laughs as it dares us to to try and live without it.
And some people do dare. One people in particular dares because who dares wins. Only for me a Pyrrhic victory is one I can live without.
Yours in hope and fear, AJ x
Thursday, 29 July 2010
Saturday, 24 July 2010
Nipping the Wuther
OK. It's time to come clean. Having contemplated the issue for a few days now I have decided to spill the beans. Or rather, New Male Friend has decided I should spill them to prevent my moral dilemma developing into a full blown wuther. New Male Friend seems to have made a hobby out of stopping wuthers in their tracks and whilst I will put up a damn good defence for wuthers of a windswept moor standard he generally makes a good call by nipping them in the bud (or whatever you have to nip in a wuther to stop it).
It went a bit like this
Me: (back of right palm resting weakly on brow a la wuther) Should I spill all my beans in my blog? Or not? What if ... this. What if ... that. What if ... *sigh* ... the other. What if. What if. And ... oh *small whimper* I couldn't bear it if .... Dare I? Should I? (right palm falls from brow and head drops exhausted onto appropriately positioned pillow.)
New Male Friend: Yes.
That was that. The cause of such majestic wuthering is that I have been asked out on a date. And. I. Said. Yes. OMG. A frickin' date. With a man. However. That little yes, a teensy, weensy three lettered unfurling of damaged wings, made me feel that somehow I was betraying Project: Life Changing. That little yes had an air of fraternising with the enemy. Who needs a man? Who wants one? Surely Project: Life Changing is about us women sticking together and not letting those life support machines for penises (or is it penii?) fuck up our lives anymore...
New Male Friend: (Quietly) Ahem.
Ahem? Ah. Because it's not just men that fuck up women's lives and break hearts. Women fuck up and break hearts too. Project: Life Changing is helping me un-fuck my life after the mixed up sadness, guilt, bitterness, anger and self-loathing that ensued following Him Formerly's BUA. It is about recognising my mistakes and coming to terms with my fallibility. About accepting Him Formerly's mistakes and coming to terms with his fallibility. It is about thinking and laughing and crying and doing and teasing and joking. And realising that the world doesn't come to an end when a relationship does.
Project: Life Changing is not about denial. Not about denying myself life. Not about denying myself laughter. And, for a romantic, wuthering soul such as mine, it is certainly not about denying myself the right to love or be loved.
New Male Friend says Ahem to that.
Yours in hope & fear, AJ x
It went a bit like this
Me: (back of right palm resting weakly on brow a la wuther) Should I spill all my beans in my blog? Or not? What if ... this. What if ... that. What if ... *sigh* ... the other. What if. What if. And ... oh *small whimper* I couldn't bear it if .... Dare I? Should I? (right palm falls from brow and head drops exhausted onto appropriately positioned pillow.)
New Male Friend: Yes.
That was that. The cause of such majestic wuthering is that I have been asked out on a date. And. I. Said. Yes. OMG. A frickin' date. With a man. However. That little yes, a teensy, weensy three lettered unfurling of damaged wings, made me feel that somehow I was betraying Project: Life Changing. That little yes had an air of fraternising with the enemy. Who needs a man? Who wants one? Surely Project: Life Changing is about us women sticking together and not letting those life support machines for penises (or is it penii?) fuck up our lives anymore...
New Male Friend: (Quietly) Ahem.
Ahem? Ah. Because it's not just men that fuck up women's lives and break hearts. Women fuck up and break hearts too. Project: Life Changing is helping me un-fuck my life after the mixed up sadness, guilt, bitterness, anger and self-loathing that ensued following Him Formerly's BUA. It is about recognising my mistakes and coming to terms with my fallibility. About accepting Him Formerly's mistakes and coming to terms with his fallibility. It is about thinking and laughing and crying and doing and teasing and joking. And realising that the world doesn't come to an end when a relationship does.
Project: Life Changing is not about denial. Not about denying myself life. Not about denying myself laughter. And, for a romantic, wuthering soul such as mine, it is certainly not about denying myself the right to love or be loved.
New Male Friend says Ahem to that.
Yours in hope & fear, AJ x
Friday, 23 July 2010
Detail
I do believe I have received a complaint. I have been receiving complainettes, (i.e. little ones) but today my Facebook inbox definitely had a fully grown one stating last blog was high on philosophy and low on detail. From Big Cuz. Which makes it quite a serious complaint in my book.
It undoubtedly stems from the fact I had some blog free days. Even though the point of this exercise was to write daily. Because I haven't it is tempting to berate myself for being lazy/shallow/unfocused (most likely lazy) and give myself a damned good talking to, replete with personal insults and abuse.
However tempting it might be though, 'been there, done that', springs to mind. And the only thing that proved good for was nothing very much at all. The bottom line is that there is only so much of that kind of talking to I am prepared to accept. I've had my fill.
Project:Life Changing initially felt like the start of something that would culminate in change. It hadn't occurred to me there would be no culmination, no final reveal, no denouement. It never occurred to me that it was from the moment of inception, from the moment I posted those first words, that life would begin to change.
From that singular moment when I made up my mind to blog through the process and shed my sickness in words, my life took a new direction. Change began at the beginning and isn't waiting for the end. It has been changing ever since and at a rate more astonishing than I could have anticipated. A rate more swift that no amount of 'told you so's' could have predicted. A rate at which has demanded some contemplation.
So my silence of late is nothing to be ashamed of. It isn't a failing. It is the time I have needed to recover my senses and emerge from the strangeness of this changing life. I was not being lazy. I was just cautiously unfurling my wings and stretching out in the sun, timidly facing the world and its wonders with a quiet "Hello, I'm back".
Only this time I might just be back with a vengeance. And a 'phone call to Big Cuz with the details.
Yours in hope and fear, AJ x
It undoubtedly stems from the fact I had some blog free days. Even though the point of this exercise was to write daily. Because I haven't it is tempting to berate myself for being lazy/shallow/unfocused (most likely lazy) and give myself a damned good talking to, replete with personal insults and abuse.
However tempting it might be though, 'been there, done that', springs to mind. And the only thing that proved good for was nothing very much at all. The bottom line is that there is only so much of that kind of talking to I am prepared to accept. I've had my fill.
Project:Life Changing initially felt like the start of something that would culminate in change. It hadn't occurred to me there would be no culmination, no final reveal, no denouement. It never occurred to me that it was from the moment of inception, from the moment I posted those first words, that life would begin to change.
From that singular moment when I made up my mind to blog through the process and shed my sickness in words, my life took a new direction. Change began at the beginning and isn't waiting for the end. It has been changing ever since and at a rate more astonishing than I could have anticipated. A rate more swift that no amount of 'told you so's' could have predicted. A rate at which has demanded some contemplation.
So my silence of late is nothing to be ashamed of. It isn't a failing. It is the time I have needed to recover my senses and emerge from the strangeness of this changing life. I was not being lazy. I was just cautiously unfurling my wings and stretching out in the sun, timidly facing the world and its wonders with a quiet "Hello, I'm back".
Only this time I might just be back with a vengeance. And a 'phone call to Big Cuz with the details.
Yours in hope and fear, AJ x
Thursday, 22 July 2010
McLife
Whoever was responsible for wiring up the human brain needs a bloody good talking to. What use is it to anyone to some rather useful grey matter that can offer up good advice to the very same grey matter that refuses to accept it. Like, I knew I shouldn't have worn my white shoes to walk the BBGs, but I did anyway.
My brain is full of good advice that has been under-used, overlooked or sidelined, all rattling around in the hefty Told You So box that squabbles over the seating arrangements with Hindsight. Hindsight being another wonderful thing that is of no practical use to anyone.
What I actually need is some Foresight. The foresight to see that the choices I make are not going to hurt me or anyone else, the foresight to see that decisions I make are the right ones not the wrong ones, and the foresight to see what's coming as a result of my actions. So at the first opportunity I am heading off to McLife to order Big Foresight (easy on the ketchup) with a side of Always Knowing What to Do for the Best.
Am I heckers like.
Imagine really knowing what the future holds. Really knowing. It would be a life with no anticipation, no fear, no curiosity, no dreams, no worry, no surprises. There would be no nerves and no butterflies. No taking chances. There would be no hope.
Having recently experienced the nearest I ever want to get to complete hopelessness I know it is something not to be desired. Because even in the darkest hours of recent months, the white butterfly has flickered into view. Momentarily. Briefly. But still there. Just enough to help me understand that this is just another of life's lessons, designed to nourish my senses, feed my soul and draw me closer to a state of human grace.
A state where I can make decisions and accept my own choices, for better or for worse. A state where I know that I may not always do what is for the best but I know I do it with the best of intentions. In fact, a state so familiar to us all that it is only when it momentarily seems to falter that we become more acutely aware of it.
Life is about learning. Life is about human grace. Life is about hope. McLife can shuff off.
Yours in hope and fear, AJ x
My brain is full of good advice that has been under-used, overlooked or sidelined, all rattling around in the hefty Told You So box that squabbles over the seating arrangements with Hindsight. Hindsight being another wonderful thing that is of no practical use to anyone.
What I actually need is some Foresight. The foresight to see that the choices I make are not going to hurt me or anyone else, the foresight to see that decisions I make are the right ones not the wrong ones, and the foresight to see what's coming as a result of my actions. So at the first opportunity I am heading off to McLife to order Big Foresight (easy on the ketchup) with a side of Always Knowing What to Do for the Best.
Am I heckers like.
Imagine really knowing what the future holds. Really knowing. It would be a life with no anticipation, no fear, no curiosity, no dreams, no worry, no surprises. There would be no nerves and no butterflies. No taking chances. There would be no hope.
Having recently experienced the nearest I ever want to get to complete hopelessness I know it is something not to be desired. Because even in the darkest hours of recent months, the white butterfly has flickered into view. Momentarily. Briefly. But still there. Just enough to help me understand that this is just another of life's lessons, designed to nourish my senses, feed my soul and draw me closer to a state of human grace.
A state where I can make decisions and accept my own choices, for better or for worse. A state where I know that I may not always do what is for the best but I know I do it with the best of intentions. In fact, a state so familiar to us all that it is only when it momentarily seems to falter that we become more acutely aware of it.
Life is about learning. Life is about human grace. Life is about hope. McLife can shuff off.
Yours in hope and fear, AJ x
Thursday, 15 July 2010
Scales
I don't know what's happened to me but my maudlin capacity is not up to par. Under instruction from knowledgeable quarters I am 'spring cleaning' - literally. I have decided that seeing as Him Formerly has moved out then I don't have to put up with Him Formerly's stuff staring at me everyday. In its irritatingly smug way.
So, tonight, IKEA bags at the ready, I prepared to go through various shelves and sort the wheat from the chaff so to speak. Tissues were also at the ready as I was fully prepared for some nostalgic sentimental moments as I sifted through what was once a joint collection of CDs, DVDs and books.
IKEA bags played their role perfectly. I now have two large square blue bags sitting in the corner of the study awaiting their fate. Contents not looking so smug now. Tissues however remain untouched. Dolefully sitting on the desk, looking at me in disbelief that they are surplus to requirements. And I am looking right back at them thinking the same.
So I sat down and tried to maudle a bit. On purpose. Nothing. Not a hint of a maudle could be squeezed out and so I started playing around with windows media player, thinking a few sounds might get me more in the mood. They did. In the mood for dancing, so I laid down a few Northern Soul moves for 20 minutes or so and then returned to the desk. And the disconsolate tissues.
The lack of tears concerned me for a time. After all, in past weeks I have managed to shed them by the gallon per hour. But then it dawned on me. The scales have fallen from my eyes so they don't sting anymore.
I've put the tissues in the bin.
Yours in hope and fear, AJ x
So, tonight, IKEA bags at the ready, I prepared to go through various shelves and sort the wheat from the chaff so to speak. Tissues were also at the ready as I was fully prepared for some nostalgic sentimental moments as I sifted through what was once a joint collection of CDs, DVDs and books.
IKEA bags played their role perfectly. I now have two large square blue bags sitting in the corner of the study awaiting their fate. Contents not looking so smug now. Tissues however remain untouched. Dolefully sitting on the desk, looking at me in disbelief that they are surplus to requirements. And I am looking right back at them thinking the same.
So I sat down and tried to maudle a bit. On purpose. Nothing. Not a hint of a maudle could be squeezed out and so I started playing around with windows media player, thinking a few sounds might get me more in the mood. They did. In the mood for dancing, so I laid down a few Northern Soul moves for 20 minutes or so and then returned to the desk. And the disconsolate tissues.
The lack of tears concerned me for a time. After all, in past weeks I have managed to shed them by the gallon per hour. But then it dawned on me. The scales have fallen from my eyes so they don't sting anymore.
I've put the tissues in the bin.
Yours in hope and fear, AJ x
Wednesday, 14 July 2010
Learning Curve
Someone I was trying to get hold of - just to know all was ok and that I didn't need to worry about them, me, or anything else come to that - has been 'un' something to respond. 'Un' willing or 'un' able. And from the consternation and fretfulness the lack of communication has created I have embarked on a learning curve.
First thing I have learned is that I too need to respond if able, even if not really willing. I have been guilty of not responding when perfectly able. I have just been unwilling to engage. H will know what I mean as for many years she has persevered with her care and diligently stayed in touch while I have been hiding out in a cave with Him Formerly, ignoring just about everything and everyone else. I couldn't bring myself to respond regularly in case I got asked to go out and do something (see Talking Shop for expansion on that theme). Or in case I got asked if I was ok, which would make me think about things and perhaps face up to the fact I wasn't. Had I been able to talk and therefore face them sooner, perhaps I wouldn't be needing this blog right now.
The second thing I have learned is all the more painful to acknowledge - that my sense of self is so shattered that my reasoning abilities regularly go AWOL. Unable for example doesn't mean to me that they are busy, that their phone battery is dead, that they are in a meeting or that they have dropped their phone in a cup of tea (chat with Brother-in-Law for expansion on that theme). In my current world it is never any of those ordinary things that people experience every day which make them miss communications. Dear me no. No response in my world means an unable indicative of the stuff of nightmares and horror movies. Before you know it my whole future has been mapped out and turned over to a perpetual mourning and regret that if only I had called sooner things might have been ok.
Or perhaps they are unwilling. Because they hate me. Because they want to make me as miserable as possible. Because I have done something terribly wrong and they will never forgive me. Because they aren't in fact the person I thought they were, their soul has been invaded by an alien life form that has extracted their compassion and replaced it with a focused desire to drive me insane. Couldn't be they are unwilling because they just don't feel like communicating, because perhaps things are difficult and painful for them? That their unwilling is just a different kind of unable.
I have been in a place where everything is my fault, like some strange omnipotent being I am the cause of everything. What vanity to believe that if I was nicer/funnier/prettier/kinder/wittier/cleverer then their phone would run on tea and without battery and the alien life forms wouldn't stand a chance. At this point, thankfully, my reasoning abilities have returned. So, if you are able do so, do. If you are unable, try. And if that doesn't work just hope the one you can't communicate with is a lot more like H and a lot less like me. As I was. I am moving up the learning curve.
Oddly enough, I suspect I am not alone.
Yours in hope and fear, AJ x
First thing I have learned is that I too need to respond if able, even if not really willing. I have been guilty of not responding when perfectly able. I have just been unwilling to engage. H will know what I mean as for many years she has persevered with her care and diligently stayed in touch while I have been hiding out in a cave with Him Formerly, ignoring just about everything and everyone else. I couldn't bring myself to respond regularly in case I got asked to go out and do something (see Talking Shop for expansion on that theme). Or in case I got asked if I was ok, which would make me think about things and perhaps face up to the fact I wasn't. Had I been able to talk and therefore face them sooner, perhaps I wouldn't be needing this blog right now.
The second thing I have learned is all the more painful to acknowledge - that my sense of self is so shattered that my reasoning abilities regularly go AWOL. Unable for example doesn't mean to me that they are busy, that their phone battery is dead, that they are in a meeting or that they have dropped their phone in a cup of tea (chat with Brother-in-Law for expansion on that theme). In my current world it is never any of those ordinary things that people experience every day which make them miss communications. Dear me no. No response in my world means an unable indicative of the stuff of nightmares and horror movies. Before you know it my whole future has been mapped out and turned over to a perpetual mourning and regret that if only I had called sooner things might have been ok.
Or perhaps they are unwilling. Because they hate me. Because they want to make me as miserable as possible. Because I have done something terribly wrong and they will never forgive me. Because they aren't in fact the person I thought they were, their soul has been invaded by an alien life form that has extracted their compassion and replaced it with a focused desire to drive me insane. Couldn't be they are unwilling because they just don't feel like communicating, because perhaps things are difficult and painful for them? That their unwilling is just a different kind of unable.
I have been in a place where everything is my fault, like some strange omnipotent being I am the cause of everything. What vanity to believe that if I was nicer/funnier/prettier/kinder/wittier/cleverer then their phone would run on tea and without battery and the alien life forms wouldn't stand a chance. At this point, thankfully, my reasoning abilities have returned. So, if you are able do so, do. If you are unable, try. And if that doesn't work just hope the one you can't communicate with is a lot more like H and a lot less like me. As I was. I am moving up the learning curve.
Oddly enough, I suspect I am not alone.
Yours in hope and fear, AJ x
Tougher Than a Turnip - Part Two
Evidently I am not tougher than a turnip. Because as I am writing the screen is a little blurred by my tears following what feels like just about disastrous everything. So much for the last Progress Report.
Disastrous driving lesson during which Nice Man ran out of niceness and got cross with me. Which made me cry. Like a girl and not under my own instruction. The tears just trickled out of their own accord and, on reaching flood proportions, Nice Man handed me a tissue and offered to drive me home.
To my home where three beautiful BBGs were waiting to greet me and yet whose bounce and joy did nothing to stem the flow of tears. Because I have let them down too and today they missed out their morning walk. Because I was too tired to get up. Because despite going to sleep at 11:45 pm last night I was awake again at 1:45 am and unable to sleep again until 5 am. Because yesterday I spoke with Him Formerly. And because yesterday started off so promisingly and then just kind of drifted into questions I shouldn't be asking myself. Because I don't have any answers and now is not the time.
I tried to be calm with Him Formerly as I wanted some tech support (he is good with technology because computers don't have emotions). However, despite duck taping my temper I still couldn't resist letting him know that his rather inept IT colleagues clearly don't know how facebook works. If you post things on your wall they appear on friends feeds.
Now there are still a few children he works with who hadn't got round to deleting me as a friend. (After all, they couldn't possibly be my friend after what I have done to him could they???) And one 'friend' posted some charming pictures of the World Cup final party they attended, complete with (and I swear it was a soft focus, vaseline smeared over the lens sort of shot ) of Him Formerly cuddling up with Her on the sofa.
Just what I needed to see. Now don't get me wrong. Tears or no tears I am no longer overly bothered about him being with her per se; Her obviously worked hard to get him and Him Formerly clearly worked hard to enable her, perhaps they are good for each other. It is just the sickening feeling of seeing how easily Her has been accepted and allowed to slot so neatly into the space beside him as if I never existed.
The people who once knew us as a couple are just all round smiles and laughter. No qualms, no consciences pricked and no knowledge of what Him Formerly has said or done to me. Not one of those people who knew us both have sent me a kind word of sympathy. Neither those now just his friends, nor his family of which I was a part of for 15 years. I am now deleted. Just. Like. That.
And if that isn't enough, Him Formerly told me he wanted to come and collect a few things. Namely shoe brushes (fancy moving in with a woman who doesn't have shoe brushes. Maybe she has webbed feet and doesn't need them.) and a cheese slice. A frickin' cheese slice I ask you. I couldn't help but laugh and tell him to sod off and go and buy a new one at Tesco (about £1.50 I believe).
"But I was attached to the cheese slice." He said. "Funny that," I countered. "I was attached to lots of things from the past 15 years but Hey Ho. Shit happens." What a pity for Him Formerly (and if you ask me a worrying prospect for Her) - that he didn't manage to get attached to something a little more substantial.
So no. I am, thankfully, not tougher than a turnip. I am methinks more of a dragon fruit. Strange, colourful and with some almost dangerous looking features on the outside but yielding, soft and sweet and on the inside. Only it might take a little more than a cheese slice to find it.
Yours in hope and fear, AJ x
Disastrous driving lesson during which Nice Man ran out of niceness and got cross with me. Which made me cry. Like a girl and not under my own instruction. The tears just trickled out of their own accord and, on reaching flood proportions, Nice Man handed me a tissue and offered to drive me home.
To my home where three beautiful BBGs were waiting to greet me and yet whose bounce and joy did nothing to stem the flow of tears. Because I have let them down too and today they missed out their morning walk. Because I was too tired to get up. Because despite going to sleep at 11:45 pm last night I was awake again at 1:45 am and unable to sleep again until 5 am. Because yesterday I spoke with Him Formerly. And because yesterday started off so promisingly and then just kind of drifted into questions I shouldn't be asking myself. Because I don't have any answers and now is not the time.
I tried to be calm with Him Formerly as I wanted some tech support (he is good with technology because computers don't have emotions). However, despite duck taping my temper I still couldn't resist letting him know that his rather inept IT colleagues clearly don't know how facebook works. If you post things on your wall they appear on friends feeds.
Now there are still a few children he works with who hadn't got round to deleting me as a friend. (After all, they couldn't possibly be my friend after what I have done to him could they???) And one 'friend' posted some charming pictures of the World Cup final party they attended, complete with (and I swear it was a soft focus, vaseline smeared over the lens sort of shot ) of Him Formerly cuddling up with Her on the sofa.
Just what I needed to see. Now don't get me wrong. Tears or no tears I am no longer overly bothered about him being with her per se; Her obviously worked hard to get him and Him Formerly clearly worked hard to enable her, perhaps they are good for each other. It is just the sickening feeling of seeing how easily Her has been accepted and allowed to slot so neatly into the space beside him as if I never existed.
The people who once knew us as a couple are just all round smiles and laughter. No qualms, no consciences pricked and no knowledge of what Him Formerly has said or done to me. Not one of those people who knew us both have sent me a kind word of sympathy. Neither those now just his friends, nor his family of which I was a part of for 15 years. I am now deleted. Just. Like. That.
And if that isn't enough, Him Formerly told me he wanted to come and collect a few things. Namely shoe brushes (fancy moving in with a woman who doesn't have shoe brushes. Maybe she has webbed feet and doesn't need them.) and a cheese slice. A frickin' cheese slice I ask you. I couldn't help but laugh and tell him to sod off and go and buy a new one at Tesco (about £1.50 I believe).
"But I was attached to the cheese slice." He said. "Funny that," I countered. "I was attached to lots of things from the past 15 years but Hey Ho. Shit happens." What a pity for Him Formerly (and if you ask me a worrying prospect for Her) - that he didn't manage to get attached to something a little more substantial.
So no. I am, thankfully, not tougher than a turnip. I am methinks more of a dragon fruit. Strange, colourful and with some almost dangerous looking features on the outside but yielding, soft and sweet and on the inside. Only it might take a little more than a cheese slice to find it.
Yours in hope and fear, AJ x
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