alice

I’ve loved this quote since I can remember… it just sums up my days so well at times 🙂

I knew who I was yesterday. I knew the path I was on and the vague direction I was heading… but three simple conversations, a text message and an overheard plan… and a new path has appeared to the right…

Three conversations. All about the other person. One has finally left his unhappy marriage, one is not coping with the twists of life, and one has just had his heart broken…

A text message, or lack thereof… one of those ones that just seems to clarify you’re making the same mistakes….

An overheard plan – hatched by my two munchkins… They’d asked if this course was possible and I said – sure, but your father will object…. and suddenly, they are chatting to each other and their friends, working out how to make this a reality…

And suddenly… I find my world is tilted yet again and that path I was on no longer holds appeal… I find myself physically leaning to the right as these thoughts swirl… towards that new path…

I need silence and I need words…

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7 bullets…

I can do this. Dodge seven bullets. I can choose which bullets will hit and where… Okay, it’s actually more than seven… but we’re starting with the main ones and working from there…

First bullet. The toe is broken. Well, she’s assuming it’s broken or fractured… not much point taking an xray as there’s nothing that can be done. Frustrating. Painful. But I can take that bullet. Hit. In the leg, in fact!

Second bullet. Blood test tomorrow morning. So no food… or caffeine… Hmm… At least it will take my mind off the needle :/ I hate needles. I know… no-one likes them… but I really can’t stand them. They hurt. A lot. And I jump. So if it’s someone inexperienced, they miss… and have to do it again… :/ Blech… I actually feel like vomiting.. let’s move on… But I’ll let this bullet simply graze the skin maybe… a flesh wound. It can show anaemia. We’re expecting that. I already have that history. So I’ll take the anaemia. That’s it.

So that’s two bullets and I’m allowing both to hit. So I get to dodge the third, yes? Surely I get to dodge the next…

Third bullet will also be fired tomorrow. No point in pacing these things… Mammogram and ultrasound. Apparently this will hurt, too… but no more than childbirth… Ummm… I had caesarians… But you had labour, right?… Sure… So this is the first big bullet. Because, oh yes, there’s more than one of the big ones… But it will be nothing. A lymph node. A cyst. Something benign. I get to dodge this one, yeah?

So… the plans for study and a career change need to be put on hold. Phone calls tomorrow to do that. Lifestyle changes… they’re tangled in at least one of the next four bullets…

But… I can do this. One bullet at a time. Play the game. Perform the dance. Mind over matter. I get to choose which bullets hit and where.

I am angry. I am furious. I am fed up. I am done.

If only saying the words was as effective as making them true.

Eleven years of schooling left. Eleven years of his manipulation left.

This time, it’s Easter. He sold them old. He took the money and left me the kids. That was the deal.

But of course it wasn’t the deal. It wasn’t enough.

Because he wants whatever hurts me most. Whatever still allows some control.

Easter is mine. As is Christmas. And birthdays. But he only wants the ‘occasions’. He wants to tell the world he’s having the kids for Easter. And he wants to hurt me because these occasions matter to me…

I said no. The parenting orders clearly state no. The courts are on my side. There’s nothing he can do about it…

Ho… ho… ho…

FaceTime.

Oh… yes he did…

Mummy! Please, please, please can we have Easter with daddy?! We never get to see him and he can see us that weekend!

Umm, why isn’t he here this weekend? Or next? Or the one after? The one before Easter? The one after? The school holidays?

But mummy…. he’s promised to take us camping and fishing and on the boat and there’s going to be loads of Easter eggs and all the family will be there….

So, yes… there is something he can do about it. Not legally… but he is the king of manipulation after all…

He tried to speak to me as they FaceTimed. I replied: You’ve never done Easter in your life. You weren’t even there for half of them and when you were, you were asleep.

He didn’t even try to deny it… I thought he would. He lies. Incessantly. He rewrites history. But he just agreed…. and that was somehow worse…. because he KNOWS he doesn’t care about Easter! He KNOWS it’s just so he ‘wins’. Just to hurt me because Easter DOES matter to me….

And I hate him… I can’t even begin to describe the deep seated hatred I feel… that I try to quell and ignore… I want him to live until he is old and alone and to die a painful, miserable death… I want him to suffer for all eternity…. and even that won’t be enough after the hell he put us through for all those years… and yet, they were young enough that he has re-written history for them and they think he is amazing. Because it’s so damned easy to be an awesome parent when you only spend a weekend with them every 2 or 3 months…

And I want to believe in karma. I want to believe in an afterlife. I want to believe that somehow, he will get what he deserves….

But I don’t believe in these things. Not enough. The kids think he is incredible. He is so much fun and he’s never grumpy or mean. And if one more person tells me they’ll realise when they’re older, I think I will actually hit them. I really do… because there is absolutely NO guarantee that they will realise when they are older! He is favourite uncle. Disney dad. He is awesome and fun and always happy.

And so… I doubt myself… maybe it was me… maybe I am all those things after all… maybe… maybe… and I hate him… so very, very much.

Hail on a flat tin roof…

and I miss you…

but my brain flits, and now I miss a different you…

and I think of all the yous that have disappeared and I wonder..

Do I really miss you? Or am I missing the memory of who I thought you were? The illusion I created. The person I desperately wanted you to be…

Do you miss me? Or am I too just an illusion I created?

I meet new people, but I am tired of forming new friendships… forging connections… creating illusions…

Thunder and lightening… and I miss you…

I’m getting married?

My American soldier in Syria… He snuck through the vetting process… His profile said he lived in Oz, so I replied… and quickly discovered he is in Syria… fighting ‘the Isis’… and he’s from America…

I get a lot of these, and I just delete them… If for no other reason than that I don’t support the situation… but mainly, because it’s a scam of some sort…

But I’d already engaged in the conversation, so I’ve been curious. What exactly IS this scam??

So, he’s already told me he’s looking for a nice girl like me to marry…. That was after the initial – ‘hi, how are you?’s… He’s asked his CO for leave as he wants to be here before Christmas so we can get married this year and then he can relocate to Oz. I haven’t the heart to tell him that Australian laws don’t quite work that easily…

Today he told me he is hungry. It was 11 PM in Syria – no food as he’s already eaten his allowance for the month… It’s the 2nd… All his money goes back to his account in America, so he has to wait til next month for food… I didn’t have the heart (again) to tell him he probably won’t make the end of the month….

He told me the children are starving and I can help. I told him that we have donation agencies here and I’ll be sure to find one…

Then he went back to telling me how he’s spoken to his CO and the leave should be approved soon. He can’t wait to move here. I’m not sure how he will be paying for his flight of course… and realistically, he probably won’t have the strength for the journey given his lack of food…

Perhaps I should be irate at the American government for allowing their troops to starve?

So, I suppose the online dating world has proved fruitful after all – I’m getting married? Or am I? He hasn’t actually asked me… just told me he’s looking for a nice girl like me to marry, that he’s taking leave so he can come to Oz and settle here, and get married… Maybe it’s not me he’s marrying… but someone ‘like’ me!

Me…

I’m not as forgiving or as understanding as people think I am…

I am tolerant…

I weigh up the relevance to my life…

I think that appears as incredibly understanding, but I’m actually not…

I’m also not as stupid as people seem to think… Why do people equate ‘nice’ with ‘stupid’? I am tolerant.

We all judge. The minute you walked in that door, I made assessments of the way you looked, dressed, walked, what you wore… I judged you. Yet people say I am not judgmental… Oh. Yes. I. Am… Very….

I just don’t see the point of me pointing this out to you… or the point in arrogantly dismissing you… You are different – that doesn’t make you better or worse than me, or even equivalent. Just different. And different can be interesting.

So when you say something, do something, wear something, make a choice, something… yes, I judge. No, I don’t often agree with it or like it. But it’s your life, not mine. And if it doesn’t have specific impact on me, I’m going to keep those thoughts to myself – most of the time…

But as I said before, I’m not stupid… I see what you hide. I notice the little things, because I am always, always aware of the little things. You can sit in front of me in a bright green jumpsuit with rabbit ears on and a flashing nose, and I’ll barely register what you are wearing or the things you say…. but I will notice your body language… and I will notice the pauses in your speech, the catches in your breath, the way your eyes falter when you rest them on a particular person, or smell a certain scent… I will notice you glance at your phone and I will see the wince… or the way you tilt the phone just slightly so I can’t see those photos clearly…

But here’s the other thing you don’t seem to realise…. and the other thing I keep mentioning… I’m really not stupid.. and even if you think you already know that, I don’t think you actually realise just how clever I am… Because you see, I can glance at your phone, and in the time it took you to think to tilt that screen, I have a clear memory of every picture on that screen… I can read upside down, too – an entire page at a time… because you see, I can glance at a page and memorise most of it – I’m slipping from lack of use so I only get around 80% of it these days… but did you notice I said upside down? Very useful in meetings, or in the doctor’s surgery… or when you leave things lying around that you don’t want me to see… as I walk nonchalantly around your home…

You see, this is the thing people just simply don’t seem to understand. I know when you are lying. When you are hiding something. I hear it in the smiley you forgot to send with your text… the fact that you read my text five times before you replied… I hear it in the tensing of your shoulders or the slight furrow between your brows, the way your eyes flick just slightly… now which side is it again? I can tell you…

But people think I am nice. They think I am so incredibly open minded and nice and tolerant and understanding…. and therefore, I must be stupid….

Why blog…

I used to ask this question all the time… and my personal reasons have changed over the years and throughout my various blogs. I’ve never lasted longer than a couple of posts – until now. So why? Why am I still going, plodding along, with this one?

Talking to a friend last night and he told me his own reasons – and it provided the very real and very simple reason. When we blog, we no longer have to bombard friends with our thoughts – because, realistically, none of them really want to hear ALL of it.

So I pondered this last night and realised this is why I am still plodding along. Even the thoughts I don’t consign to pixels, the ones I compile in my head…. it still gets them out there. Out of my head. Structured. Formed. Conveyed. The ones that make it to the screen – they’re thrown at an anonymous audience who can choose to read or to scroll… but who, ultimately, won’t pass judgment on me personally. Won’t respond with their thoughts, based on what they know or think they know about me.