Mourning

My psychiatrist advised me to take time out, especially when I am not feeling so well, to mourn the death of an idealised relationship. Today I have decided to do so publicly in my blog, because I feel it might help if I write a few things down rather than just keeping them all in my head. I have no one here to talk to about it, and this, for me, is the next best thing.

I did have an idealised relationship. I thought that it could be perfect as long as I kept working at it. I thought that my marriage was going to be the last relationship I would ever have. I was so happy on my wedding day, marrying the man I loved beyond reason and looking forward to a life together with him.

I idealised things to the point where I said no wrong about him. I kept his nasty little secret to myself, not telling anyone other than those I most trusted, and I never told them more than one incident until I finally left. Then the truth came out.

In the time together however, I did what I could to make him notice me, to get him as part of my ideal. I went from playing Stepford wife and doing everything for him with a smile to returning his ignoring. Nothing seemed to make any difference to him at all. I forgave his little strays with the online girl and with a friend, simply because I did not want to leave the relationship. Part of me was happy despite the reality, simply because I was with the man who meant so much to me. I could ignore his flaws and faults as long as he was there.

Now I sit here deeply sad and miserable because the ideal is no more. It died the minute I had my eyes opened to the truth of the monster I lived with, the one that inhabited the body of the man I wanted to devote my life to. I feel lost and lonely without him, yet know that the "him" I miss is the idealised one, the loving, caring husband that disappeared some years back.

I wish that I could speak to him, to have him tell me that everything will be fine, that the past can be erased and he will be my ideal husband, but that is just wishful thinking. My ideal husband doesn't exist and I wear widow's weeds on the inside for the man I lost. I don't think I will ever get over the loss of my husband. I still cry in the night wanting his arms around me, then nightmare about his hands round my neck. The hardest part is knowing the physical man is still there, still alive, still breathing but not the man I married. That man is dead and gone and the warmth and affection I had from him that made me love him is no more.

Sometimes I just want him to tell me he is sorry for what he did, to have him care, but the man that would do that is long gone. My husband, my friend, is gone. I miss him, but there is nothing left for me to do other than try and live every day without him.

Very unsettling...

That was tonight's experience. One minute I'm quietly messing about, tickling the bear while he kept slapping my hand away, the next he play-punched in my direction, not even coming close to connecting, and I was a total wreck. I burst into tears and had to curl up into his arms for big cuddles for a good 20 minutes before I could settle down enough to try and think rationally about what had just happened.

Paul never actually punched me. Slapped me, yes, but never punched me, and it's usually only things that have happened that will trigger a response. If someone gets too close to my neck for instance, I can have a bit of a freak-out. That's why I didn't understand my reaction.

I think part of it was the instant reminder of someone I cared for doing something as horrible as being violent towards me. Someone I trusted and someone I would have done anything for suddenly turning into something to be feared.

Rationally I know that the Bear would never intentionally do anything to hurt me. I know how placid and gentle he is with me, especially avoiding doing things he knows will trigger a response. He has put his hands near my neck on a couple of occasions to show proffessionals what my reaction is, even when he says beforehand what he is going to do. It's almost Pavlovian the way I react to certain things.

On top of that, something has upset my stomach and I feel rather sick. It started last night, so hopefully it will sort itself out soon. Mouse was sick last night too, but that was just a huge hairball. He seems ok today.

Tomorrow I hope to be better so I can get on with the sewing project and a couple of alterations that need finishing off for someone.

Project pics...

Latest project under construction...

What happened next...

I got a letter from my solicitor yesterday. This is a good thing, because it means the divorce is finally on its way to happening. Paul has finally agreed to go with my divorce petition and has said he doesn't want to contest it, although makes no admissions regarding the contents of my particulars. I plain English that means he hasn't denied that there was domestic violence and abuse. He's just not admitting to it on a legal document.

Moving on to other news...

I just started a new sewing project, although I do have a little bit of work waiting for me. I just needed something to challenge my brain a bit and to get me concentrating. This new project is certainly doing that! So far I have the skirt and sleeves of the dress pinned to my mannequin, but the neckline and the bodice shape is currently evading me. The material is a fantastic shot gold/turquoise with a crinkle finish that has the most amazing embroidery detail on it. It's a sari I bought recently but discovered a couple of tiny rips in the material, so it went for dressmaking instead of wearing. I'm not making the dress in my size though. It's going to be one of the ones I make to sell.

Because I don't use patterns, it means my dresses are all one-offs. I can't make another exactly the same, only similar in shape and so on. I estimate skirt lengths on the waistband, don't measure where pleats go, and cut hems by eye. My mother can't work out how I do it, since she has to use patterns. I suppose it's a talent I have: mum sews, knits, embroiders and paints, where I have channeled most of my creativity into the sewing.

I recently had a friend over to visit, and she bought material for an Asian suit. I made it the same afternoon, just laying the material out on the floor, cutting the shape, and then running it all up on the machine. She was well chuffed about it too, so that made me rather happy.

Oh well... Off to pin some material to my mannequin and see if there's any neckline style I fancy...

Reverse Karma?

I feel like I'm the one being punished for what went on in that house.

First it was Beltring, then Kelmarsh and the poorly cat. Now my October cruise has been scrapped, the roof leaks in my flat and my meds are playing merry hell because of the side effects.

So, no holidays for me this year and I am going to have to speak to the landlord about the roof. I don't know how long it has been leaking, and I will have to investigate that soon. It's been dripping into a box of my stuff, and only spotted it because I had to go into the loft space to get something for my mate when it was raining. So, some of my things may well be ruined by the leaky roof.

I have to wonder what's coming next.

Walking under ladders...

At the moment it feels like I'm spending my life walking under ladders while smashing mirrors...

First I couldn't go to Beltring because of the Idiot being there...

Now I can't go to Kelmarsh Hall, all of 30 miles from me, for a 17th Century event, because I'm totally skint. The Bear and I were supposed to be going there a week today, but given the current financial state of the pair of us, it's not happening.

Add to that the fact that I have to be up early tomorrow to take the cat to the vets as he is rather poorly, and it's all kind of getting a bit much.

OK, so the cat probably doesn't want to be sick, and it's not his fault. He does have a genetic condition that means he has problems with his bladder and crystals forming in his urine, and it now looks like there's crystals stopping him from having a proper pee. If it blocks completely, his kidneys will back up and poison him, and frankly, I don't want to lose my baby. Fortunately he's still able to pee a little, so the vet said it would be ok to leave till the morning. Even more fortunately, I qualify for free vet treatment, although I would pawn my soul if it meant making Mouse better. He may have to go on a prescription diet, which probably isn't going to be cheap... I will work out my finances to cope with that though, as it's an essential. People may think I'm mad for caring so much for my moggy, but he's my only family here, my best friend and he loves me. I'd be rather lost without him around.

I am annoyed however that once again I am unable to do something and go see my friends because of lack of finances while the Idiot is living it up in Beltring for a fortnight. No doubt he has plenty of food and alcohol to keep him going as well as probably buying lots of unneccessary, expensive crap. Perhaps I should send a message to him saying I want some cash. Bet I don't get any if I do tho.

Ah well. I'm trying to keep my chin up, but frankly, the only thing stopping me going completely nuts right now is the fact I have a house-guest.

Bitter and Twisted

Exactly how I feel today. I am angry enough to want to go to Kent just to say in a loud voice about how pissed off I am that Paul gets to hang out with my friends and I don't. I am angry enough to want to go up to his girlfriend and tell her exactly what her current beau is like. I am angry enough to not care if my friends think badly of me for causing a scene. I am angry because I am the one who has to still suffer for what he has done while he gets away with it. I am angry because I am jealous that he has a life and I have very little.

I'm sick of having to phone helplines every time I get too depressed to want to carry on. I've had enough of living like this in constant fear of what I might do next. I've come to the end of my tether. I want to scream and shout at him and make him see what he has done.

I want him to care that he has ruined my life, not ignore it and have a life himself, enjoying himself while I sit here broken and hating myself. He is a selfish prick who cares nothing for those he hurts, those whose lives he destroys

And yet I still care...

If he meant nothing to me, I could have moved on by now. If he had managed to make me really hate him, I would not be sitting here day after day, taking tablets to keep my depression in check. I sometimes wish he had killed me when he nearly broke my neck that night. He would have lied his way out of it, or done his best to anyway, but at least then I would not have had to continue with this hell inside my head. I wouldn't have had to admit that I had lied to everyone about the state of the marriage. I wouldn't have had to find the courage to tell my parents that I sometimes wish myself dead and wouldn't have had to hurt them by them seeing the scars of what I do to myself. They may never have had to learn the truth of my marriage and what that man did to their little girl for years.

Even if it had been discovered that he had been my killer, the truth of years of abuse would never have had to come out. As it is, I survived and the survival has been worse than I could possibly have imagined. It still hurts. He still harms me mentally. The things he has done haunt me, and the fact that he doesn't care makes it worse.

If there had been some remorse on his part, perhaps things would be easier. If he had been bothered about my wellbeing, perhaps I wouldn't currently be fighting the urge to go down there and tell him exactly what he has done in front of all his so-called friends. It's another form of self-destruction, as I am sure those friends would not appreciate me making a scene, and a few would probably decide it would be better not to have me as a friend because I am unstable and disruptive.

I don't even want him to be sorry now. He had his chance to do all that, but he was obviously too busy to care about anyone but himself. If he came out now and got all "but I do care and want to make sure you're ok" I wouldn't believe him, simply because it's taken too long, and he's about to find out how much divorce will cost him. I don't want him being all caring now, because it would look so false in the face of the last god knows how long's ignoring me. I do wonder if it would make any difference, but that would only be if he meant it, and I doubt he has any real concern for anyone other than to worry about what people think of him. That's why he keeps having to play everyone's hero, so people will think he's wonderful.

Being honest, people think he's a twat. I know this because I heard it enough. I just didn't say anything, and frankly, joined in when people were slagging him off, because by that point, I'd had enough of trying to be the dutiful wife to a man who didn't care about me in the slightest.

I have worked out my anger I think. Now I'm just miserable again.

Sad day

Today I had to bury my little Charlie Jack Edward, youngest of my hamsters and a really friendly, active, happy little creature who was the runt of the litter and never really grew much in his short life. The Bear found him this morning after he passed away overnight. He is now buried in my lilies, a fitting grave for my wee man.

I also had the upset of going to my psychiatrists today and having to talk about things that bother me, triggers for my worst times and trying to find the words to explain how difficult it is for me sometimes to keep myself in check and not do something silly. On a good note though, I am getting my tablets changed, as I have been getting some excruciating headaches, probably caused by my most recent tablets, so we are changing them to see if there's any improvement.

I don't have much else to say really. I should be going to the vehicle show this week, but for obvious reasons I'm not. This has upset me somewhat, as it was a nice holiday seeing people I hadn't seen for quite some time. My condition has deteriorated now to the point where I am too ill to be anywhere near Mr B. Even thinking about him is bad, so I am going to go do something else for a while.

Writer's block

I came here with loads to say, and now I have no clue what it was I was going to write...

I think I might go back to bed and try getting up again in half an hour... see if that kicks the brain into working.

Don't hold your breath for it...

News...

And now for the news...

First of all, a good surprise last night: Got home from being out for the day to find a letter from my solicitor waiting for me. The husband has finally agreed to go with my divorce in Birmingham court. At bloody last! I have to go along with the request not to ask him to pay costs, but it's a small price to pay to get things moving. I'm just happy that things seem to be finally coming to some sort of conclusion.

Secondly, I was out with the Bear yesterday. He had to pick something up that he'd bought on e-bay, and since we were about 20 miles from one of my friends' houses, we went for a visit. I've not seen them for 5 years, so it was a fantastic afternoon. We even went to the beach before coming home, although the sea was so far out you couldn't see it. That wasn't really a problem though, as we were at the beach. It was a great day.

In other news... I have my own net connection finally. I also have a froody wee netbook which is practically pocket sized, but absolutely fantastic. It means I can actually get sorted out and perhaps even get some work done in the way of writing. I started a book ages ago, so perhaps now would be the time to write some more of it. I can also cut the phone bills somewhat with any luck and chat to people by mail or on facebook instead of phoning. It's going to be very useful!

Ah well, just a wee one, because it's too hot to be sat indoors under a hot battery... I'm going to go try doing something productive...