Pinball wizard

I feel like a pinball machine this morning. I can still feel the paddles smashing me about. The ricochet off the bumpers. Tilt.

Dreams. Remnants this morning. Actual memories. Not good ones. TV last night – I rarely watch it – but I did – and the images triggered too many forgotten memories.

I should have the song ‘Pinball Wizard’ in my head… but instead I have that old whining song ‘you left me… just when I needed you most…’ Another subliminal message, I’m sure.

Monday morning. Tongue is thick. Thank God it’s almost Christmas holidays.

Another trigger perhaps. I’m pretty sure he’s not coming home for Christmas – but he hasn’t told me. My ‘perfect’ world is shattering again… The others are clinging. A week! I don’t actually know what I will do. Six entire sleeps without any of them. Any at all.

Blergh. A less than pleasant day ahead….


I’ve been trying to work out what it is that bugs me about the engagement. About the whole relationship really. Yes, I’m annoyed that his life seems to be going well. Yes, I’m annoyed that he’s moved on so quickly. And this isn’t a sour grapes kind of annoyed. This is a guy who was still making our lives hell a year ago. A guy who, even a couple of months ago, was still trying to control any potential relationships I might have.

But this isn’t sour grapes. I expected mild irritation… but this is something different, and I’ve been trying to pinpoint it.

He wrote a checklist last year of all the things he could remember that I’d ever said – that he’d ‘done wrong’. You know the thing – every time you argue – every bitter sentence out of your mouth – every disappointment… He wrote a list. He was determined to right the wrongs. He couldn’t understand that it was too late.

He’s been working through the list with this new relationship. He even bought her the ring he thinks I wanted. Took her to dinner to ask properly (he never actually asked me – it was always a bone of contention). I’m expecting the wedding to be the one he thinks I wanted and the honeymoon to also be where he thinks i wanted it. We’ll see…

But I know he is doing this. So this is just mild irritation. The greatest anger regarding all this is the money he is throwing at her, when he hedges about every cent he has to pay towards his kids.

So, what is it that’s bugging me…

Then, after a bizarre sequence of events and conversations the other day… it hit me… and so did the sadness…

He’s showing her off.

He takes her place. He goes places with her. He blazons it all over social media. He tells the world. He’s doing it all ‘right’. He’s putting in the effort and he’s doing everything he never did with or for me… but really, at the crux of it all, is that he’s showing her off. And that’s what hurts. That’s what is getting to me. Because he told me over and over and over again, throughout the years, that he hated being seen with me. hated being associated with me. I was too fat, too ugly, too old, too stupid, too smart, too serious, too ‘city’, too whatever…. Never ever good enough. And he couldn’t stand my friends. they were too everything as well. So he didn’t come anywhere with me if he could avoid it. He even avoided funerals and weddings. Anything. Anything so he didn’t have to be seen with me.

He moved to the coast years ago – 6 months before the kids and I followed. I arrived, pregnant with the third child… and surprised everyone. No-one had any idea he even had a girlfriend…

Yes, I should have left… but when someone chips away at you… slowly… chips… you don’t even realise it’s happening… and then you don’t even realise you are in it…

But what I discovered the other day is a whole new well of hurt and anger. I thought I’d found them all. Delved deep. Ripped them out and examined them. But I found another… and with it… I realised that I am more walled in than ever. Because I don’t have the energy to tackle more hurt. I don’t have the inclination either. Some things just need to stay bottled. At least for a while….

Waking up grumpy

Blergh. That is my mood this morning. Hopefully, caffeine will fix it.

I’m not a morning person – although, I’ve been waking up early (or woken up) every single day for close to 16 years now. Still…

Last night, I had the joy of a child in my bed. So angelic. Peaceful. Gorgeous.

Until the feet found my back… and the hands my face… and the burrowing started (he actually burrows under me)… and then he was hot… and then he was cold… and another trip to the toilet was essential… and is it morning yet (at 5am)….


Then the next one came in… at least it was light by then… Mummy, I feel sick… still… really sick… I think I’m going to vomit….


Out of bed. She wants yoghurt… but I thought you wanted to vomit?… Yoghurt will make me feel better…


Can I have chocolate? Or a candy cane? It’s 7am!!! But….

Silent FFS….

Everything aches. I think he kicked every bone, muscle and whatever else there is in my body. My neck is cricked, my head is thumping. The kids are loud. They have found a whistle. Where the f&*% did they find a whistle???

Caffeine! Caffeine will solve all ills. And I might wake the teenager… the sadistic part of me thinks she should share in my misery… 😉

I want…

I seem to spend too much time wanting… it is a symptom of our society I suppose… our greed…

But I do want. I want someone to look at me in awe. That look from across the room that says – wow, why are they with me? That look that says they are constantly wondering how they can be so lucky. And I want to look that way too, of course.

I spent 15 years in a relationship where I actually told my husband, time and again, that he had never looked at me that way – that he should – and the fact that he didn’t, said something important… He kept convincing me I was wrong… but I wasn’t. And I want that. I want to be the most important person in someone’s life. I want them to want to be with me. I want to be their first choice. Their only choice. I want that.

And I really don’t want to be the only person looking like that… I really want that to be reciprocated…

Interestingly… I posted this then hopped on FB and the very first quote on my wall was a quote from one of my favourite poets, and a poet I had been talking about tonight…

“Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.” — Sylvia Plath.

An omen? A message? Something…. Perhaps I just haven’t realised that really, deep down, I am wanting nothing… and scarily, I fear that this is perhaps a little too close to the truth.

Last year, one of my closest friends told me – if people want to know, they’ll ask… Apparently, when people ask how you are or how was your weekend, they don’t actually want to know – not even your closest friends…

So, after the initial hurt dissipated, I gave his theory a whirl… I stopped telling people unless they actually asked, and asked twice in fact… People don’t want to know – he was right. People have absolutely no interest in what is actually happening in your life – well, except for those wanting gossip.

Sometimes, I forget this rule. Sometimes, I get so caught up in the friendship that I forget they don’t actually want to know… but then I remember and I find, once again, that he was right – people don’t actually want to know. If they do, they will ask. And they never, ever ask – at least, not twice… The first time is pure courtesy you see….

So, my phone has been playing up for quite a few weeks. My laptop has moments, too in fact. People keep asking when I will fix my phone…. I actually don’t think I will. I have a plan that goes til August unfortunately. I need my phone for my teenager to contact me – but that is it. It was necessary when driving on country roads, but that is so rare now.

I decided to examine the uses of my phone… Very little actual communication. I use it for news, books, music, Internet, Pinterest (my true addiction), work, social media, etc…. But, realistically, almost no actual conversation. When I looked at the texts and phone calls from the past few weeks, almost all of them were from friends of my teenager!

So why fix my phone? Why have my phone? Why pay ridiculous costs for a phone i don’t actually use or need?

Which then led me to my next thought… Why spend so much time on the computer? That one is easy – because I’m often working on my laptop. As a result, people expect me to be online and to answer them pretty much straight away. I love technology. I am always using it – for work as well as personal use. But, I am over it. I hate to admit this. But I truly am. I am tired of the neediness of it. I use my social media, partly to keep people happy with standard updates, and partly as a study… It’s trivia, banalities…. a photo of the christmas tree, kids at the beach, a whinge about work… nothing of substance…. but people feel they are up to date with your life. They feel they have had a connection. Met their obligations. Touched base. It fits with the busy-ness of life. The glorification of busy-ness in fact.

So, will I fix my phone? It’s unlikely. Will I still be attached to technology in a week when work ends? I seriously doubt it. Will I return to it next year when work resumes? Unlikely. So… I suppose therefore that my year will culminate where it has been heading. Perfectly timed. A new year will dawn and I will see where that takes me… but I highly doubt it will involve many of the things that have followed my path til now…. because, those things require energy I do not have, and those people will need to expend energy they do not have….

Perhaps I am simply tired. But I wonder at that, too. Is it simply tiredness and the inability to think clearly? Or is it that when I have slept, I have more patience and tolerance?

Salt in the air and sand in my hair. A few weeks on the beach and we will see where the next adventure leads.

What do you do when they reinvent history? When they create a reality so defined that they believe it themselves… and even worse, convince others of the truth.

I would give almost anything for my children. ‘Almost’ because I wouldn’t give the life of one for another… or swap one happiness for another… that kind of thing… but I can’t think of much else I wouldn’t give…

But what do you do when it’s just not enough for one of them?

A part of me is so exhausted by the whole thing, and by the long, long road ahead…. that I just want to call it quits. Acknowledge this one as a loss. But this is my little boy… or he was? Not so long ago… and i still see glimpses…

I can psychoanalyse til the end of time. I can write an easy thesis on this child. Tomes in fact. The story is long and complicated, as they all are. It begins at his birth, or perhaps before… No-one can ever truly understand it who hasn’t lived it.

People judge. It seems to be the easiest recourse. Either him, or me. He’s a wild child. He just needs discipline. He’s a psychopath. She’s a negligent mother. It’s always the parent. He blames the mother… Have you heard what he says? Maybe it’s true…

Do I confront him, yet again, with the latest? He’ll deny it… then he’ll admit it… but swear it is true… and I won’t be able to convince him it is not. Then, as he tells and retells the story inside his own head, or to anyone who will listen, it will be bigger and better (or worse) until he has convinced himself of one more story he will resign to his personal history.

But they’re not true! Actually not true. I have never punched him. Or picked him up and thrown him into a wall. I don’t think I could actually lift him? I have never told him I hate him or that I wish he wasn’t born. I have never told him he is ‘dumb’, ‘stupid’, ‘useless’, etc. I have never done any of these things….

But don’t get me wrong – earlier this year, I became a parent that I never thought I was capable of becoming… It devastates me to remember how low I went… and I take complete responsibility for my actions… although, as I have said to him, he does need to take some ownership as he was determined to achieve an outcome, and ultimately, anyone will crack under enough pressure… especially when there was no ‘out’ of the situation….

But I have still never committed the acts he is recounting. I never would. Wrong parent. Distorted memory.

I’m told to stick to the facts – I didn’t do that. I didn’t say that. That wasn’t me…. But he just insists that it was. And tells others. I don’t actually care what people I don’t know think, but I do care if it affects me as a mother or if it affects my career. And ultimately, it bothers me greatly that he is creating a history in which he despises me… this is my little boy. This is the baby I carried in my womb, nursed when he was sick, attended every amazing moment as well as all the bad ones. I was there for every moment in hospital. I was there for the tears. I was there for the smiles. A year ago, he couldn’t handle spending even a night away from me. A year ago, he was terrified to be left too long with his father. And now… And people can’t convince me he will realise in the end… because, what if he doesn’t??? What if, as he grows, these memories cement and he remembers the traumatic times with me as the perpetrator? What if he hates me and fears me for the rest of his life?

I want the crystal ball. I want to know the right path. I want this particular nightmare to end. I want my little boy back. I want to go back in time and undo every moment when I screwed it up for him. I want to make it right somehow. And I can’t have that….And no-one, absolutely no-one, has any clue how it feels to love a child with every part of your being, but to have that ripped apart every hour of every day, knowing he hates and despises you with every part of his own….

I miss….

Ugh… I’m far too emotional when I am over tired…

But I do miss having someone who cares about me. That one person who wants to know about you – wants to know all the bits – the good and the bad. That person who cares when you’re tired and sad and grumpy… not just wanting to be around for the good times. Someone to tell your woes to and know they will listen, even when you are being ridiculous. And, at the end of the day, someone to curl up in bed with and know that no matter what, it will all be okay in the end… That is what I miss… but then again, it’s been so many years since i have had that, I’m not even sure I’d cope if someone offered it :p