Confusion

It's been a while since I wrote anything. I've thought about it, then decided not to, for whatever reasons. I'm only writing this now to try and get things straight in my mind, and perhaps let people understand what's going on in my head at the moment.

It's very simple and very complicated both at the same time.

First of all, I want to go home. Simple enough, till you take into account the reason I left. Home in this case is the house in Andover I shared with my husband. I suppose it is the familiarity of the place that makes me miss it, even though I have been in my current place for a year and a half. Perhaps it is because it is rented that it doesn't feel like my real home and maybe, if I can get my own place, things will get better. For the moment though, it doesn't take away the feelings I have of wanting to be back where I had friends, things to do, places to go, prospects of work and so on.

Secondly, and the more difficult thing to get my head round, is the fact that I want my husband. I miss him so very much and feel lonely without him. I married him because I loved him and wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. Sadly, his personality changed (or perhaps reverted) and he was no longer the sweetheart who swept me off my feet and asked me to marry him after only three weeks of us knowing each other. I had that for over a year- the loving, protective and wonderful man that I still wish I was with. I miss the feel of his skin, the touch of his hand, snuggling up to him in bed at night, the smell of his aftershave and his little habits that were so endearing.

I don't miss the arguments, the humiliation, the being ignored and the pain.

I can't live with him, but it's feeling increasingly difficult to live without him.

He's started haunting my dreams again. In my dreams I want to run to him and hold him, but can't. It's the fear that stops me, but I long for him. In my dreams he goes from loving to monster in an instant, something that happened in reality over time so I can't even tell you where it all started. It's like a beautiful tiger- you want to pet and cuddle it, but it's too dangerous. I want to love and care for my husband, but he is too dangerous for me.

I admit it- I still love him as much as I did when I married him. That's my problem. I can't stop loving him despite what he has done, and I know I can no longer face him. I have been able to face him, and I spoke to him once upon a time, but I later found out what he was saying behind my back and the cruelty of it crushed me to a point where I can no longer even think of him without pain.

My greatest difficulty now is to keep going every day. I don't feel like I am anyone's special someone. Friends are fantastic and keep telling me that I am not alone, but I look around my house and there is no one there. There is no one I can just drop round to have a cuppa with. There is no one just dropping by here and telling me to get the kettle on. People tell me I must go and visit them, but I don't have the finances to do it. I haven't had a holiday since Christmas 2008, although I have been to Wales a couple of times, and down to see another friend, but those were babysitting exercises, not holidays.

I don't know what I want. I think that's a lot of my problem. I'm confused and very tired, as the dreams wake me up in a panic. I still have problems going out, even when I know I have to, like today. I should be taking a repeat prescription request in to my doctor, but I know I can't go out just like that. I just feel like he is going to turn up and try and speak to me. I know in my sensible moments that he isn't actually that bothered, and wouldn't come all the way up here, but it doesn't stop the monsters under the bed.

All I want to do is sleep without dreams, go out without my anxiety making my life hell and to stop loving the man that no longer exists in the body of my husband. It would be easier if he was dead, but I wouldn't wish that on anyone other than myself. Today I would quite happily go to sleep without dreams and not wake up unless I could forget the last ten years.

I've always said I never regret anything in my life because it's brought me to where I am now, but I have changed my mind. I regret meeting the man who is still my husband simply because my mind is no longer stable enough to have any kind of normal life. The long-term prognosis is that I will be prone to the depression and anxiety for the rest of my life although there is a chance of recovery from the way I am now. There is no timescale for that and it could be months or years before I can function normally again.

Sometimes I'm just not sure I want to live like this any longer. I'm doing my best though and I'm still here for now.

More lucky white heather...

So just as I was getting over the D&V bug, I caught a cold. It persisted for over a week then decided to give me a chest infection. That is now just on its way out, but I am now having agoraphobia issues again. I am also skint.

The job centre have, in their infinite wisdom, asked for another medical certificate after telling me I didn't need any more. Because I haven't sent one in, they've stopped my benefit. I need to go and see the doctor to get a cert, but I can't even face going down my stairs, never mind out onto the street to walk to the surgery. I also have to pick up a scrit for my meds, am almost out of milk and the cat needs food. It's just rediculous. The sensible side of me knows there's nothing to worry about. The other side is being dominant at the moment and has monsters under my bed, nasty people lurking in corners and my husband waiting outside to have a go at me about the divorce and settlement. Sensible knows none of these things are true. Irrational thinks sensible should take a hike because it doesn't fancy being eaten by monsters or jumped out on by Paul in one of his less agreeable moods.

News on the divorce front is the same old. So olds rather than news I suppose.

I spoke to my solicitor last month and did all the form-filling and signing I needed to. The forms were supposed to be exchanged in September. My solicitor is now sick of banging his head on a brick wall and has decided the exchange is unlikely to happen, so is working on proceeding without it. The last contact he had from Paul's solicitor was in September. It is now December. I'm sure he has better things to be doing than writing letters that get ignored and trying to get blood out of a stone.

After seeing my solicitor, I sent an email to Paul. I used three of his email addresses and copied my solicitor in. I wasn't really wanting to mail him, but since we are getting nowhere, it was a task I had to undertake out of desperation to get on with things. I was polite, businesslike and to the point. I asked him to please at least sign the form that will remove his petition from the courts so mine can proceed as agreed. I told him that his lack of cooperation would result in my costs more than likely coming out of his wallet, and that would include the cost of my solicitor travelling to Hampshire to ask for his petition to be removed, since Paul can't sign one bit of paper. I asked him to let me be able to get well again, because the delays mean my psychiatrist and doctor are fighting a losing battle against my depression, which means the remainder of my problems can't be treated. I can't have treatment for the PTSD till the depression is under control. My shrink feels the depression won't be able to be controlled till I have some form of closure on the marriage. My marriage can't be dissolved until Paul actually takes some sort of active role in the proceedings.

I feel helpless. I have my parents coming for Christmas, but if I can't get to the doctors, I'll have no money, and the cupboards will be bare. I can't even think straight enough to work out any gifts for them, which will be hand-made with whatever I have in the house. I have an idea for mum, but no clue what to do for dad. It's really only the thought of them coming down that is keeping me going at this precise moment in time.

I hate days like these. I just wish that someone could tell Paul to stop being so selfish and let me have the opportunity to have some sort of enjoyment in life rather than having everything coloured grey by depression.

I'm tired of this life. I'm scared of what that might mean.

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...