Get your lucky white heather here...

Irony...

So, I had a snotty cold. That was followed by a severe tweaking of my back, which was then followed by an infection following my minor surgery, and just as I was getting through the last of the antibiotics for that, I got knocked sideways by a D&V bug. I can't wait for whatever comes next.

Actually, what's next on the agenda is finishing a dress that I started making for a friend of mine on Thursday but couldn't finish because of being ill with this silly bug. I also have a visit to the solicitor to try and shove things along with regards the divorce, and a return to the theatre to do panto costumes for this year. I'm not sure which one of those two is going to be more of the comedy/farce than the other, but since we have now passed the two year mark on the divorce and the panto is in February, at least I have a pretty shrewd idea of which will come first.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I'm still on boiled water till my stomach decides to keep anything down, and with any luck I'll be fine by the time I have to go do forms with the solicitor. I really can't believe how patient he is being with this case given the length of time this has been going on now and the lack of communication from the other side of the dispute. I've done everything asked of me as quickly as possible to get things moving as fast as I can, since that seemed to be what was wanted in the first place, but everything has slowed to a crawl with the lack of response.

So, for the time being, it's back to waiting for this bug to clear, reading, playing silly games on the computer, watching DVDs and generally trying not to move too much. Oh what fun.

More delays

Well, I had a letter from my solicitor today. It appears my husband hasn't been speaking to his solicitors regarding the divorce proceedings and the Form E that was supposed to be exchanged by the end of September. As a result, nothing is happening yet again.

I'm beginning to wonder once more whether my husband really wants this divorce. He may just be stalling because of the financial side of things, but the more he stalls, the more it costs him, so it's not his best move really. If it's not the money, then I have no idea what's going on. All I know is that it's not doing me any favours healthwise.

Ho hum... I have made an appointment to go see my solicitor to try and get things sorted anyway, so I'll just have to wait and see what happens.

In the meantime I have a stinky cold that might be the start of flu, mostly brought on by lack of sleep and lack of looking after myself properly. Next plan is to take painkillers and go back to bed.

Little things

Why is it the little things in life that throw you?

I went to my friend's funeral yesterday. Everyone gathered at the house first, and while there, I went up to his room. The empty bed made me almost break down. I don't know why, but I expected him to be there.

Someone drove his favourite vehicle to the crematorium, and the sight of it, then realising he wasn't the one driving had me in bits.

The flowers... The people... Seeing his coffin... "Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust"...

Little things, but all so emotional.

Paul was there too. My first sight of him made my heart nearly stop. The small curl of hair at the nape of his neck that makes his hairline lopsided... The way he stands... The sound of his voice...

Little things, but reminders that pull me back to a place I thought I had left behind.

He didn't speak to me. I wanted to ask him if he was ok, but I couldn't go near him. If he had come to me, I could have spoken to him, but he didn't. He avoided me as much as possible, and for that I am partly grateful, but also partly upset.

I made sure people kept him in the loop with regards news of our friend, because I wanted to make sure he knew what was happening. I hope my friend's sister was the one to give him the sad news over the phone- she said she would ring him when I spoke to her on the day of Lala's death.

I care about how he is coping with the loss. I care about him full stop. It's part of my nature, but also because of how I feel about him. I can't change that or make it magically go away, much as it would help me get on with my own life. I can't hate him even though he did so many things that should never have hapened. He is still my husband and I still care. I'm aware that doesn't work both ways though, and that adds to my sadness- from July 2000 till November 2007 is a long time to be with someone and then not care. I wish I could do it, because it would make things so much easier.

I still miss him every day, but I am aware I need to learn to live without him and to cope with the times I will see him. Perhaps once everything is over and the last bit of paperwork is in I will be able to move on. Perhaps not, but I'm going to try anyway. I have to take care of myself in the meantime and try not to get too upset by everything. That just leads to a place I don't want to go back to- a place of dark thoughts and stupid actions.

I just said goodbye to my friend. For his sake, I will try to keep going and not give in.

Lala, I will miss you. Sleep peacefully.

Long time, no blog

I've not been blogging... I've been sucked into a set of forums that have been keeping me amused, but have slowed down a fair bit recently. Possibly the "back to school" thing, although the vast majority are over school age. Anyway...

Life is pretty damn crap right now.

My friend was diagnosed with terminal cancer. He was given chemo to try and extend his lifespan. I learned today that his body has rejected the chemo drugs, so he's now down to painkillers and waiting for the inevitable. It sucks. Hes a smashing bloke. I don't want him to die, but sadly, I don't get a say in that one. I have however promised him that there will be no unpleasantness between myself and Paul when the inevitable happens, as we will probably see each other at the funeral. I'm not going to be there for any other reason than to say goodbye to my friend and I doubt very much that I will have my mind on anything other than my friend.

In other news, I get the feeling that someone is having a laugh at my expense when it comes to the divorce. It is now stalled because his petition has not been recalled from Basingstoke court, and since it's still lodged, Birmingham cannot issue a Decree Nisi. I would have thought that his solicitors would have forseen this problem and recalled the petition when my solicitor agreed to make mention of it. Mind you, it means my solicitor has had to contact his solicitor, who will then have to contact Paul, who will have to instruct his solicitor to recall the petition, at which point his solicitors will have to recall the petition, then write to my solicitor to say it's been recalled. At that point I presume my petition will have to be resubmitted and join the queue again.

To say I'm feeling very defeated right now is an understatement. since I was told of this development, the nightmares have stepped up and I spent a good hour after reading the letter in tears of frustration that I am still tied to that man. It's like I am trapped. It's like I never left. It feels like he is still ruling my life, and the life I have because of this just keeps getting worse.

I can't sleep. I can't concentrate. I'm not eating properly because I have no appetite for proper food and snack on very little.

I'm getting to the point where I am failing to see a purpose in everything again if I am not going to be able to get away from Paul. I have no future as an independant person while I am legally bound to him, and that is dragging me down. I try to put a brave face on things, but to be honest, it's getting harder and harder to do that while my life is not under my own control. It is being determined by my husband still, and I am tired of living like this.

Paul B: Please sort it out. If you have any shred of decency left in you, please just get the divorce done with, because I cannot live like this any more. I can't work because of my health problems directly caused by the years of abuse and violence you subjected me to all coming to the fore in 2007. I have not been able to support myself for nearly two years. I am dependant on others for everything, and I don't want to live this way. You have a life, but I don't. Please. Let me have a life back before I don't have the will to keep on fighting.

Another step taken...

Well, today was very productive. The Bear and I went into the city centre and he took me to the courts to have my affidavit signed. The affidavit is to say that everything in my divorce submission is true and accurate, and to add one small amendment that his solicitors have insisted upon. This, along with my recent bank statements is now in the hands of my solicitor.

I now play the waiting game while my solicitor sorts the paperwork then applies to the courts for Special Procedures to get my decree nisi. The bank statements were so financial details can be exchanged as well so the settlement can be worked on. An application to the courts for the financial side of things will be made at the same time as the divorce submission. Hopefully it will mean things will start getting sorted fairly soon.

I did feel a slight case of the jitters when getting everything signed and sworn, because it feels like the last act of giving up on a marriage that I wanted to work, and one that I put a lot into. It is now 9 years and a month or so since we met, and for 7 of those years I put up with a lot. I did my best to ignore the little incidences of found-out-lies and to move on, but it was hard. It still is hard for me, because while part of me wants nothing more to do with him, there is still a small part that does still care. I wish there wasn't, because it would make things so much easier.

My depression would be easier to treat if I could hate him. My PTSD wouldn't be so severe if I could really see him completely as the monster he became. My dreams wouldn't turn into nightmares if I could just forget all about him and move on.

I can't.

I can't even contemplate sharing my house with anyone on a permanent basis ever again. I wouldn't trust anyone not to turn into another monster. I don't function well in crowds. I have difficulty trusting new people I meet. I have trouble even socialising with the Bear sometimes because I want to switch off and just be on my own. It's horrible for my Bear to have to be on the receiving end of my insecurities and mental illnesses because he is such a patient and understanding chap. It makes me feel guilty that I cannot be completely at ease with him all the time.

Well, we shall see how things progress once the divorce is out of the way.

In other news, while in the city, we went to the rag market. I now have material for a skirt and top that I have to make for a customer. I also have steel boning to re-do another top of hers that has really flimsy boning in and it won't stay put. I managed to get some hessian for corset lining too, as a lot of period corsets used hessian instead of canvas for stiffening. The Bear got some material for britches for his 17th century costume and I browsed possibles for a dress for me for next season. I also managed to pick up a lovely velvet remnant which should make a nice 17th century corset bodice. The Bear will be repaid once I have the first garment made and paid for.

I'm busy in a slow way. I am not churning out lots and lots of clothes and raking in the cash. I have so far managed to earn 45 quid for some alterations done, and that's over the last 6 months. Hardly call to order my personalised Bentley yet! I do have a few jobs pending though, and I should be able to keep busy over the winter. I have three dresses to make before Christmas and have been asked to make the soldiers' coats for the new 17th century regimental kit for our regiment. They supply the material and I just make it up. Simple really, but not a huge earner yet again. I have a couple more enquiries pending, so we shall see how it goes.

The slow pace of the work is actually quite suitable for me, since some days I know I can't go near the machine lest I make 16 million major fuck-ups in the first hour and spend the rest of the day unpicking things. Having such a long lead time on garments means I can go at my own pace to a certain extent and make sure I get everything done right. I can still do a decent turnaround if I need to: I know that, as most things will only take a day's worth of work to do, so if I say a week, I can get away with an hour or so a day working on it.

Ah well, I was going to bed an hour ago because of a stinky headache. I was hoping the painkillers I took would have kicked in by now, but brufen really aren't cutting it today. I may have to rummage and see if there is anything else in the house that might mean I can sleep tonight without lying awake wishing my headache would sod off...

One Life...

We only get one shot at life. We make friends, some casual, some good, some falling into the best category. We do our best for our friends and treat them as family.

I am feeling a bit numb at the moment. One of my best friends phoned me on Friday to tell me some very bad news. He has cancer. It is inoperable. The best he can hope for with medical intervention is to prolong his life by I don't know how long. Without the intervention, he possibly won't see this Christmas.

We spoke about it, and his view is that if the medical intervention will give him an extra 6 months of quality life, then he will take it. If it will mean six months of pain, humiliation and being confined to a hospital bed, he has decided not to bother. I agree with him completely. A selfish side of me wanted him to do whatever it takes to stay on this earth for as long as possible, but the compassionate side of me that cares so much about him says that I would rather he didn't have to suffer a prolonged life that had no quality to it.

He has been my friend for 9 years now, and it is difficult for me to contemplate that it will not be ten, then eleven and so on. I am trying to come to terms with the fact that in a while I will never be able to phone him up for a chat. I won't be able to hug him and be hugged back by him. I will never hear him calling me "Mother" again after he is gone.

Time now is precious. I won't treat him any differently because of his illness, but I will be offering to do whatever I can to help. If he had any other problems, I would be doing the same.

I can't even begin to contemplate how he must be feeling, knowing what is coming. I will just be there for him as his friend. It is all I can really do, and I will do it with a willingness because he is a wonderful person whose friendship I value.

We take so much for granted. So many times we don't know what we have until it is gone. My friend is someone I value, and I hope he knows it. I know what I have in his friendship, and I will miss him like hell when he is no longer around. In the meantime, I will be making the most of the time left to us.

If he lasts another four years, I will still count each day as a blessing. He currently has four months. Every day is precious. We have one life. We must live it and help others to live theirs too. We must be there for our friends and weather whatever life may throw at us.

One life. Live it.

An insight...

I thought I would share an insight into the debilitating effects of my illness. I have severe depression at the moment combined with PTSD. Today has not been a good day.

I had a nightmare last night. In it, I was here in my house, and then Paul turned up, came stright into my house as if he owned the place and would not leave. I told him to get out several times, and eventually he replied that I had not asked nicely enough. By this point, he was sitting comfortably in my living room. I asked him nicely if he would please leave, at which point, he smirked and said no. I was in a right state by this point, wanting him to get out of my house and as far away from me as possible, and his response to that was to grab me and slap me. Hard. At that point, I went out into my garden, waiting for the Bear. Paul followed and sat next to me on my bench. The Bear pulled up in his car and came up next-door's steps with a wire shopping basket with stuff in it. He didn't acknowledge me or Paul sitting in the garden, and at that point, I fell to pieces.

And then woke up.

All day (gradually getting worse until late afternoon and then falling off again) I have thad that "monsters under the bed" feeling. You know, the one you had as a kid when you KNEW something was going to reach out and grab you from underneath before you got into bed. The one that made you leap into bed from a distance, or hurry to get onto the bed and under the covers to be safe from the questing fingers of the monster.

I have had the feeling that I am going to go to the hall, and he will be there, standing in the middle of it. I have had the feeling that he will walk round the corner towards me when I am in my garden. I feel that I will turn round and he will be there. It makes me afraid of being in my own house. It makes me terrified of going outside. I get panicky and feel sick. I shake and have trouble thinking straight. I become paralysed with fear. I daren't even get undressed and have a shower, because I feel too vulnerable being naked.

On the plus side, it's cut down my smoking a hell of a lot, since I can't always step outside my front door and I refuse to smoke in the house because it smells awful.

I'm just hoping for a peaceful night tonight. If not, I shall be getting the Bear to accompany me to the doctors to get some more tranquilisers.