About 4 and a half years ago I woke in the dead of the night from pain around my stomach/bottom centre of my ribs. Stomach pain and digestive pain isn't foreign to me however, I'd not experienced this before. It did feel somewhat similar to when I had gall stone attacks yet my gall badder was removed in 2008 so it obviously wasn't the issue.
I sat up for a bit hunched over while my partner at the time slept on. I got to the point very soon that i was in tears as the pain was quickly increasing. By the time he woke I was doubled over in pain and gasping at breath.
Straight to the hospital emergency department I went. Little did I know at the time, this was to become a very familiar occurrence.
In order to reduce my pain and discomfort they administered morphine.
I've not had morphine before. I get that horrible cramping pain feeling run through my veins for a 10 or so seconds the moment it enters my system. (apparently that's quite common), then the world seems to go a little fuzzy! It's certainly not a feeling i would say I enjoy yet it's the only form of pain relief that works when I'm in such pain.
This first attack saw me in hospital a little over a week nil by mouth whilst they prodded poked and scanned every part of my torso they could. I was left with no answers as to what had caused the pain. By this point the pain had subsided and home I went.
A referral to a gastroenterologist was made (the doctors earliest appointment isn't for another 6 weeks, says every receptionist everywhere) and in the meantime good luck! yup the doctor at the hospital actually said "good luck"!
Rather than drag on through each episode/attack I suffered I will say in short, the pain attacks became more frequent. My gastro dude came to the conclusion that I have, wait for it because its a ripper of a title, 'Dysfunctional Sphincter of Oddi Disorder'.
Have you finished laughing yet?
Alright, that'll do, I know what you are thinking as everyone thinks it, Nope, not my ass, that is not dysfunctional, other things yes, dysfunctional no. well not yet anyhow.
basically the pancreas has an area referred to as the sphincter of oddi. named after some dude, so and so Oddi. and mine does not function as it should hence, dysfunctional.
This sphincter is a muscle and it allows the enzymes your pancreas produces along with bile to enter into the stomach and work their magic. My muscle cramps up like you wouldn't believe. I am left with no option other than the emergency room and strong pain killers which help me relax.
Again another long story short, I spent 2 years trying every medicine and option to fix this problem other than surgery as surgery is quite risky. Noting worked.
I end up at a major hospital a few hours away from home to have this rare and risky surgery, not once but twice! the first surgery wasn't without pre op complications and pain! An extended stay in hospital and more of the horrible pain meds. eventually i'm home. This seemed to work for around 6 months, then out of the blue I have the worst attack ever yet.
Saturday, 7 November 2015
Monday, 2 November 2015
WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? (oh yes, the spice girls song)
Some days I get caught up on the thought of how people see me. Not as in, what type of person I am, actually physically, how they see me.
I always look at other women comparing them to myself. I look at them and think she has hair like mine, or I wonder if my legs look like that.
How do they see my face. When you know someone so well that you see them differently than if you passed them in the street they change right?
It's not a self loathing of any sorts it's basic curiosity i guess.
It bends my mind. I would love to be someone else and meet me and hang out.
Imagine what you would learn about yourself. I'm sure there are not so great aspects to this such as seeing an expression on your face and thinking 'Don't ever do that again!'.
Kids see us big people differently also. They are blunt and matter of fact with their observations. We have all heard the story where the kid points out a fat person really loudly and how embarrassing it is. well perhaps we should all be more obvious.
I love complimenting strangers on something I like. Such as their perfume or clothes. It feels great to give a compliment with no intent behind it. Surely the person receiving the compliment will feel better.
The there is those people that you are positive they have no mirror in their house nor a reflective surface as if they had seen themselves there is no way they'd have left home. Would it be appropriate to mention to them why they look so unfitting. It can be polite. I like your jacket but it really doesn't match with your pants? I suppose not.
Well I for one would be happy to have my misgivings pointed out to me. I'm pretty sure my friends know this. However I do take way to long deciding what to wear most days so that this never happens.
Over thinking. It's crippling isn't it!!
I always look at other women comparing them to myself. I look at them and think she has hair like mine, or I wonder if my legs look like that.
How do they see my face. When you know someone so well that you see them differently than if you passed them in the street they change right?
It's not a self loathing of any sorts it's basic curiosity i guess.
It bends my mind. I would love to be someone else and meet me and hang out.
Imagine what you would learn about yourself. I'm sure there are not so great aspects to this such as seeing an expression on your face and thinking 'Don't ever do that again!'.
Kids see us big people differently also. They are blunt and matter of fact with their observations. We have all heard the story where the kid points out a fat person really loudly and how embarrassing it is. well perhaps we should all be more obvious.
I love complimenting strangers on something I like. Such as their perfume or clothes. It feels great to give a compliment with no intent behind it. Surely the person receiving the compliment will feel better.
The there is those people that you are positive they have no mirror in their house nor a reflective surface as if they had seen themselves there is no way they'd have left home. Would it be appropriate to mention to them why they look so unfitting. It can be polite. I like your jacket but it really doesn't match with your pants? I suppose not.
Well I for one would be happy to have my misgivings pointed out to me. I'm pretty sure my friends know this. However I do take way to long deciding what to wear most days so that this never happens.
Over thinking. It's crippling isn't it!!
Tuesday, 27 October 2015
SOMETIMES THE ANSWER IS AS SIMPLE AS A PIECE OF CHOCOLATE
Please watch this link. It's a phenomenal story and sent tingles down my spine and tears to my eyes.
https://www.facebook.com/humanthemovie/videos/474883142683549/
I would love to hear your opinion on this story and have my own but I won't write anything yet as I don't want to spoil the story before you have watched it raw.
So add comments!!
Saturday, 24 October 2015
DISSECTION OF A MARRIAGE
So I had a husband once and now I don't.
This is a good thing. Although this may come across as a sad tale, I've learnt some invaluable lessons about people, relationships and myself.
I'm still trying to figure out how to put these lessons to good use but hey, I'll get there eventually.
So I met my husband when I was 16. We dated for around a month and it didn't go anywhere from there. We lost contact till i was 21. We bumped into each other through mutual friends at a concert. He tracked me down and asked me to dinner. At this point in my life I had really on had 2 boyfriends, was very interested in having one and starting a family etc. (Not as soon as it did all happen)
I knew from a very early age that I wanted to be married and have kids. I wasn't looking to shack up with the first man I met but I was in love with love and wanted it to be part of my future. I, like most girls, dreamt of a man that would hold my hand, constantly tell me he loved me. Support me in my dreams as I would in his and really, be a successful team together in this game of life.
My husband when I met him, was a tradesman, owned a house at 22, came from a seemingly nice family that were comfortable like my own. It only took about two weeks for him to ask me to be his girlfriend. It was right before Christmas and I lived in a share house. My parents were moving out of town and I was going to rent there house but I needed to find someone to help share the rent to offset their rent.
It had been around 5 weeks and he suggested that it was silly if we both were paying for places and said he should move in with me. He told me he loved me, wanted to have my children. It was full on from the start. Don't think for a moment that I wasn't hesitating about this and that I didn't see how soon it was all happening. I debated with myself that I should wait, I don't know him that well. However, lack of a suitable flatmate caused me to say yes to him. So, he moved in.
Things were pretty smooth the first month or so. It was my birthday that weekend and we were heading up to see my parents. I'd had a rotten day at work and, I know this but can't control it always, I have a short temper. I get over things just as quickly as they bother me though. So we had some little squabble about him not having things ready to go that I'd asked. I snapped, he snapped then we set off for a 6 hour drive. I went about things as if it wasn't a big deal, because to be honest, it wasn't. He didn't share the same view. about an hour into the drive when i realised he was being very short with me I asked him what was wrong. Nothing. again I probed. this resulted in him almost shouting that nothing was wrong and referring to me as a dickhead. We spent the next 5 hours with him giving me the silent treatment and me holding back tears.
The rest of the weekend was awkward and uncomfortable. He was rude to my parents and didn't want to involve himself in anything.
Now, you would expect me to say that I came home from the weekend and broke up with him. But as you are aware we were married so that obviously didn't happen. I'm a forgiving person and was still trying to figure him out i guess.
The rest of the year was a roller coaster of tip toeing around his moods and silent treatments. Work kept me busy. I also felt somewhat trapped by the fact we lived together. It wasn't as simple as just breaking up and not seeing each other again. (thought 21 year old Ellie).
After Christmas had just passed I found myself pregnant. we had talked about having kids etc. and both agreed we wanted to. We weren't trying but we weren't that careful about not becoming pregnant either.
We had a last holiday together before baby. We went to a little island which was so beautiful for the first few days. He explained that there is some epic fishing spot around the head of the island and to get there we only needed to kayak across the bay and walk around the rocks. Don't forget I'm around 3/4 months pregnant. We kayaked to the rocky part. They were indeed rocks, above a 2 meter drop straight down to deep water with waves crashing against the wall of rock at the bottom. The ledge, sort of carved i guess, to navigate around a big corner and reach this 'epic' spot was as wide as two feet placed tightly together.
I don't do heights on a good day. I balked. Said there was no way I could do it. I offered to stay on the small beach like area and hang out till he'd finished fishing. He started abusing me and calling me all names and that I was stupid for being scared nothing was going to happen. This was the whole reason he wanted to come on the holiday etc. I by this point was in tears. He stomped back to the kayak and I cried while paddling the whole way back across the bay. I think it was two days before he spoke to me again.
Obviously you know what we went through before the baby, with his stroke as I've already posted that story so I won't bore you with it again. Things were very tense between families and us after that ordeal but our daughter was sensational and just the sunshine in my life.
I hated the idea of having a child together and having to call him 'my boyfriend'. I suppose I'm a little old school that way. So looking back now I'm pretty sure I put a fair bit of pressure on him to get married or at least be engaged. But to explain, I loved him, our daughter and the dogs. I wanted us to be a family properly to show that love, not because I cared what people would think. In my mind, if we had a kid together and he loved me, doesn't it only make sense that he would want to marry me and be proud to say I'm his wife?
we got engaged and were happy enough for a while, that wore off a little as everything does though. The tension around my parents who would often come and stay to see us (probably their granddaughter and not us! but I'll let that slide) was just horrible and draining on me. the silent treatment would go on for days. He would not try with our daughter or me. I kept waiting for him to be engaged in our life and love coming home to us at the end of the day rather than being surly and complain he should be fishing not working.
Sympathy and empathy towards him after everything he went through was something he played on big time. I felt proud of him for going through what he did and being okay. proud of us. Not a lot of people come out the other end after such a traumatic experience but we did. So I forgave his misguided approach to our relationship and fatherhood.
I clearly remember waking up the morning of our wedding and thinking to myself, I DO NOT want to marry this man. He takes everything from me and gives nothing. The pressure of the money spent, the guests that had arrived in town, the embarrassment it would cause and the fear of being alone squashed these thoughts, I also convinced my self it was just wedding day jitters and I continued through the day with a smile. It wasn't magical. I didn't cry tears of joy on the day. He never even once said I love you or you look beautiful. Later years in counselling he confessed he checked out half way through the day and it was all a load of shit. Nice. And still I didn't divorce him at that point.
I think you have to understand that it's very easy to hear these stories and think what was I thinking and why on earth did I put up with this behaviour. When you are living the situation and it's a day to day experience, you have a different perspective on things. you also have strong emotions. He promised time and time again he would try and would act the way I needed. (Which wasn't that big of a thing, I just wanted a hello how was your day and him to show some affection.)
Our honeymoon was a week after the wedding. My first time away from our daughter besides a night here or there. So that in itself was difficult. The day didn't start well as I stupidly read the arrival time of our first flight as the departure time which meant we missed our once a day connecting flight. I know I'm hopeless. But, I was trying to see the humour in it and we couldn't change the situation so why not laugh about it right? Nope. we still flew to the city and were placed on a flight the following day. My parents lived in the city. Just stay with us they laughed. We'll pick you up and drop you to the airport tomorrow it's not that far. Yes, that's awesome! would be my response. Again Nope! We had to stay in a shitty motel, with a window that wouldn't open and aircon blasting all night. Yes, he refused to stay at my parents who had only a week earlier forked out about 15 grand for our wedding.
The next morning he woke up sick. we finally arrive at our honeymoon. I was so excited, but the whole thing was a disaster, one of those, it didn't look like this in the brochure experiences. again, I saw the funny side. He decided he was going to go to bed. and sleep. So I sipped the complimentary champagne and ate some cheese. alone.
we fought a few times on the honeymoon and over all had a really shit holiday. Day three I was in tears missing our daughter and he told me to get over it. Clearly he wasn't missing her.
A few weeks after the honeymoon we discovered I was again pregnant. After everything that had happened the first time, it was in my eyes a chance to do it like everyone else and experience everything normally. that was really exciting for me. Our daughter was still the perfect child and my little best friend I was overjoyed at creating another human like her. (I did by the way, just for the record!)
I was around 6 months pregnant with a sizable belly due to having gestational diabetes. Dad was visiting and staying in the single bed in the spare room. husband had been at work all day and came home with the usual arrogance that had become normal to me. He was giving one word answers to my father and ignoring my daughter instead watching the tv. Before bed my daughter started vomiting, she was still in a cot at this stage. It was just one of those yucky bugs but due to her age I didn't want to leave her alone in her cot in case she chocked on her own sick or got worse. Normal I'd have thought for a parent. I just figured she would seep with us. He protested strongly and said there was no way she was in our bed as he had to work the next day and wouldn't sleep with her. The poor darling husbands sleep was obviously more important right?!
He proceeded to tell me he'd blow up a mattress for me. So I spent the night with a really ill kid sleeping on a shitty air bead which rested every movement of mine onto tiles underneath. He and his mother saw no problem with this behaviour at all. For fear of starting a massive fight dad didn't say anything at the time, He wishes he had now.
We decided that the house we had was to small so bought some land and proceeded to build a new home. I loved every minute of building and would do it 10 times again given the chance. we moved into the house in November two weeks before I had my second (Spoiler alert) daughter. Busy time of year for tradesmen I know but heck, I'm a whale and have a 2 year old so a little bit of help wouldn't go astray. I managed to unpack and set up the entire house alone before having her. Nesting hormones were obviously in overdrive.
I had a complicated birth and stayed in hospital around 6 days. It was Saturday night and bub was being really difficult. the nurses had taken her to give me a break and given me some pain killers for, well, the pain! It was around 3 am when I awoke to a blaring siren and a voice over the speaker system calling code something. Petrified my instinct was to get my baby. I waked out of my room and the emergency fired doors had closed. Without checking them (Like a sane person would have) I went back to my room and cried. I was in my defence full of drugs and hormones. I called the nurse. everything was fine someone had accidentally opened a door which tripped the alarm. they returned my baby and fed me tea and toast. I didn't sleep again. I waited till about 6:30am and rang my husband in tears. I told him what had happened and just said it's time for me to come home. I just want to come home could you please come and get me?
No way, I've got to work was his response, I tried again to explain how upset I was and that I wanted to go home, he could just drop me home then go to work. pleading with him at this point, he told me to fuck off and he'd come and get me when he was ready. Well that was enough for me, he'd already hung up on me so I dialled mum and dad and told them if they didn't get me now I'd call a taxi. They were there in ten minutes.
After leaving hospital, My other daughter fell ill that afternoon. Doctors confirmed she had hand foot and mouth (impetigo) not serious to her but potentially fatal to a new born and I could pass it onto her so my daughter was quarantined at my parents for a week. It felt like she was dead (dramatic and I mean no disrespect to anyone as I'm aware it wasn't that drastic but with a new born and hormones and her lack of ability to talk on the phone and a husband that was being an ass that's how it felt) She became so ill with mouth ulcers she ended up at the hospital. She came good not long after that and was finally home. My parents had recently quit their job/life in the city to come home and support me as they could see how bad things were in my marriage.
I can't even remember the exact reason why anymore but another fight and bout of silence lead me to need some space from him and move to my parents with my two kids as I knew he wouldn't leave if I asked him to give me some space. So I gave him a very detailed letter about my concerns of our relationship, kindly told him that without a change this couldn't continue. after about 4 days he reluctantly promised to change and work towards things getting better. He didn't beg me to come home or make a grand gesture of any sorts. It was a really sad existence for me in this marriage.
By this point, I had hardly any friends as he had managed to find fault in all of them and turned me away from them. Some being great friends which I will never have again and feel very sad about.
Life kind of just plodded along. I was so busy with the kids and so accustomed to his shit that most of the time I ignored it. This really made things worse I think now looking back. He didn't like that I was a strong person and didn't need him or bow down to him. I spent most of my days with the kids at my parents just to get away from my life. we were living in a small outer town of where I live now and to where my parents are so once we were at mums we were there for most of the day. I'd arrive home not long before him and so the house wan't always as neat as it could be, he'd attack me verbally about being a slob and lazy and if I wasn't going to keep HIS house clean I should go to work instead of him and he would do it.
I'm pretty certain now that I was heavily depressed but him not caring one iota about me and me battling with two kids and really him acting like a third i didn't really notice.
I fell pregnant again. I had really conflicting feelings about it. Of course I wanted this baby, who wouldn't after having two amazing ones already. Our relationship was already shit though and hanging by a thread in my eyes. He was working away in another town as there was no work here so our relationship was spasmodic at best. We had lengthy discussions, no that's not true, I had lengthy monologues and he would insert a few words here or there as to having this baby. But to simplify it, If we have this baby, shit has got to change. No one is happy right now living the way we are and I refuse to bring a baby into this family if it won't change. If we choose not to have this baby, that's it. No more kids. We don't get to pick and choose when is convenient to have kids. I'm happy he chose to say we would try and fix things and I'm fairly sure I couldn't have gone through with an abortion but it all needed to be said for him to understand the gravity of the situation.
So he promised, and i think he tried for a little while but here's the thing. You can't make someone change. If they want to change and try to be a better or different person for you or anyone, it has to come from them. forcing them or giving an ultimatum doesn't work.
My boy was a cesarean after such a rough trot the last labour and to avoid any more damage to my lady parts. It all went smooth and he was a healthy 9 pound. I chose to tie my tubes at this point as three pregnancies was enough for my body.
We played nice for some time and then the GFC (Global Financial Crisis) happened. We couldn't keep up with the mortgage payments on our house and reluctantly sold it. We moved back into town and into an older house. My youngest was 6 months. In order to pay for that house, husband started working away again. From then till Christmas he was home every 2nd or 3rd weekend. This was his undoing I guess. I realised very quickly that I was more than capable of doing this adult thing and be a parent on my own. The kids were happier when he was away as we couldn't fight all the time. Christmas saw him home for a few weeks. The day before my sons birthday we had a ridiculous fight and he was accusing me of being all sorts of nasty things as far as mental illness goes and saying I was a bludger because I wouldn't put my kids in child care to work. I had strong opinions about this as far as my own kids go (not everyone can afford this luxury i know) and he was in agreement with me at the beginning of our relationship. Pretty sure his parents had a good hand in changing his mind. anyhow, that was it for me. I was done. The strangest part about the day is I wasn't even that angry. I wasn't insanely crying or screaming at him to leave. I was calm and told him straight to his face. You need to leave. I am done with you and this marriage. I refuse to be treated this way anymore and and I won't be.
Simple as that. in a very complicated way.
I have not once at any moment since then thought perhaps I did the wrong thing divorcing him. That is a very comfortable thing for me. It has caused other problems of course with the kids. But divorcing this man was the best decision I've made to fix the worst decision i made.
This is a good thing. Although this may come across as a sad tale, I've learnt some invaluable lessons about people, relationships and myself.
I'm still trying to figure out how to put these lessons to good use but hey, I'll get there eventually.
So I met my husband when I was 16. We dated for around a month and it didn't go anywhere from there. We lost contact till i was 21. We bumped into each other through mutual friends at a concert. He tracked me down and asked me to dinner. At this point in my life I had really on had 2 boyfriends, was very interested in having one and starting a family etc. (Not as soon as it did all happen)
I knew from a very early age that I wanted to be married and have kids. I wasn't looking to shack up with the first man I met but I was in love with love and wanted it to be part of my future. I, like most girls, dreamt of a man that would hold my hand, constantly tell me he loved me. Support me in my dreams as I would in his and really, be a successful team together in this game of life.
My husband when I met him, was a tradesman, owned a house at 22, came from a seemingly nice family that were comfortable like my own. It only took about two weeks for him to ask me to be his girlfriend. It was right before Christmas and I lived in a share house. My parents were moving out of town and I was going to rent there house but I needed to find someone to help share the rent to offset their rent.
It had been around 5 weeks and he suggested that it was silly if we both were paying for places and said he should move in with me. He told me he loved me, wanted to have my children. It was full on from the start. Don't think for a moment that I wasn't hesitating about this and that I didn't see how soon it was all happening. I debated with myself that I should wait, I don't know him that well. However, lack of a suitable flatmate caused me to say yes to him. So, he moved in.
Things were pretty smooth the first month or so. It was my birthday that weekend and we were heading up to see my parents. I'd had a rotten day at work and, I know this but can't control it always, I have a short temper. I get over things just as quickly as they bother me though. So we had some little squabble about him not having things ready to go that I'd asked. I snapped, he snapped then we set off for a 6 hour drive. I went about things as if it wasn't a big deal, because to be honest, it wasn't. He didn't share the same view. about an hour into the drive when i realised he was being very short with me I asked him what was wrong. Nothing. again I probed. this resulted in him almost shouting that nothing was wrong and referring to me as a dickhead. We spent the next 5 hours with him giving me the silent treatment and me holding back tears.
The rest of the weekend was awkward and uncomfortable. He was rude to my parents and didn't want to involve himself in anything.
Now, you would expect me to say that I came home from the weekend and broke up with him. But as you are aware we were married so that obviously didn't happen. I'm a forgiving person and was still trying to figure him out i guess.
The rest of the year was a roller coaster of tip toeing around his moods and silent treatments. Work kept me busy. I also felt somewhat trapped by the fact we lived together. It wasn't as simple as just breaking up and not seeing each other again. (thought 21 year old Ellie).
After Christmas had just passed I found myself pregnant. we had talked about having kids etc. and both agreed we wanted to. We weren't trying but we weren't that careful about not becoming pregnant either.
We had a last holiday together before baby. We went to a little island which was so beautiful for the first few days. He explained that there is some epic fishing spot around the head of the island and to get there we only needed to kayak across the bay and walk around the rocks. Don't forget I'm around 3/4 months pregnant. We kayaked to the rocky part. They were indeed rocks, above a 2 meter drop straight down to deep water with waves crashing against the wall of rock at the bottom. The ledge, sort of carved i guess, to navigate around a big corner and reach this 'epic' spot was as wide as two feet placed tightly together.
I don't do heights on a good day. I balked. Said there was no way I could do it. I offered to stay on the small beach like area and hang out till he'd finished fishing. He started abusing me and calling me all names and that I was stupid for being scared nothing was going to happen. This was the whole reason he wanted to come on the holiday etc. I by this point was in tears. He stomped back to the kayak and I cried while paddling the whole way back across the bay. I think it was two days before he spoke to me again.
Obviously you know what we went through before the baby, with his stroke as I've already posted that story so I won't bore you with it again. Things were very tense between families and us after that ordeal but our daughter was sensational and just the sunshine in my life.
I hated the idea of having a child together and having to call him 'my boyfriend'. I suppose I'm a little old school that way. So looking back now I'm pretty sure I put a fair bit of pressure on him to get married or at least be engaged. But to explain, I loved him, our daughter and the dogs. I wanted us to be a family properly to show that love, not because I cared what people would think. In my mind, if we had a kid together and he loved me, doesn't it only make sense that he would want to marry me and be proud to say I'm his wife?
we got engaged and were happy enough for a while, that wore off a little as everything does though. The tension around my parents who would often come and stay to see us (probably their granddaughter and not us! but I'll let that slide) was just horrible and draining on me. the silent treatment would go on for days. He would not try with our daughter or me. I kept waiting for him to be engaged in our life and love coming home to us at the end of the day rather than being surly and complain he should be fishing not working.
Sympathy and empathy towards him after everything he went through was something he played on big time. I felt proud of him for going through what he did and being okay. proud of us. Not a lot of people come out the other end after such a traumatic experience but we did. So I forgave his misguided approach to our relationship and fatherhood.
I clearly remember waking up the morning of our wedding and thinking to myself, I DO NOT want to marry this man. He takes everything from me and gives nothing. The pressure of the money spent, the guests that had arrived in town, the embarrassment it would cause and the fear of being alone squashed these thoughts, I also convinced my self it was just wedding day jitters and I continued through the day with a smile. It wasn't magical. I didn't cry tears of joy on the day. He never even once said I love you or you look beautiful. Later years in counselling he confessed he checked out half way through the day and it was all a load of shit. Nice. And still I didn't divorce him at that point.
I think you have to understand that it's very easy to hear these stories and think what was I thinking and why on earth did I put up with this behaviour. When you are living the situation and it's a day to day experience, you have a different perspective on things. you also have strong emotions. He promised time and time again he would try and would act the way I needed. (Which wasn't that big of a thing, I just wanted a hello how was your day and him to show some affection.)
Our honeymoon was a week after the wedding. My first time away from our daughter besides a night here or there. So that in itself was difficult. The day didn't start well as I stupidly read the arrival time of our first flight as the departure time which meant we missed our once a day connecting flight. I know I'm hopeless. But, I was trying to see the humour in it and we couldn't change the situation so why not laugh about it right? Nope. we still flew to the city and were placed on a flight the following day. My parents lived in the city. Just stay with us they laughed. We'll pick you up and drop you to the airport tomorrow it's not that far. Yes, that's awesome! would be my response. Again Nope! We had to stay in a shitty motel, with a window that wouldn't open and aircon blasting all night. Yes, he refused to stay at my parents who had only a week earlier forked out about 15 grand for our wedding.
The next morning he woke up sick. we finally arrive at our honeymoon. I was so excited, but the whole thing was a disaster, one of those, it didn't look like this in the brochure experiences. again, I saw the funny side. He decided he was going to go to bed. and sleep. So I sipped the complimentary champagne and ate some cheese. alone.
we fought a few times on the honeymoon and over all had a really shit holiday. Day three I was in tears missing our daughter and he told me to get over it. Clearly he wasn't missing her.
A few weeks after the honeymoon we discovered I was again pregnant. After everything that had happened the first time, it was in my eyes a chance to do it like everyone else and experience everything normally. that was really exciting for me. Our daughter was still the perfect child and my little best friend I was overjoyed at creating another human like her. (I did by the way, just for the record!)
I was around 6 months pregnant with a sizable belly due to having gestational diabetes. Dad was visiting and staying in the single bed in the spare room. husband had been at work all day and came home with the usual arrogance that had become normal to me. He was giving one word answers to my father and ignoring my daughter instead watching the tv. Before bed my daughter started vomiting, she was still in a cot at this stage. It was just one of those yucky bugs but due to her age I didn't want to leave her alone in her cot in case she chocked on her own sick or got worse. Normal I'd have thought for a parent. I just figured she would seep with us. He protested strongly and said there was no way she was in our bed as he had to work the next day and wouldn't sleep with her. The poor darling husbands sleep was obviously more important right?!
He proceeded to tell me he'd blow up a mattress for me. So I spent the night with a really ill kid sleeping on a shitty air bead which rested every movement of mine onto tiles underneath. He and his mother saw no problem with this behaviour at all. For fear of starting a massive fight dad didn't say anything at the time, He wishes he had now.
We decided that the house we had was to small so bought some land and proceeded to build a new home. I loved every minute of building and would do it 10 times again given the chance. we moved into the house in November two weeks before I had my second (Spoiler alert) daughter. Busy time of year for tradesmen I know but heck, I'm a whale and have a 2 year old so a little bit of help wouldn't go astray. I managed to unpack and set up the entire house alone before having her. Nesting hormones were obviously in overdrive.
I had a complicated birth and stayed in hospital around 6 days. It was Saturday night and bub was being really difficult. the nurses had taken her to give me a break and given me some pain killers for, well, the pain! It was around 3 am when I awoke to a blaring siren and a voice over the speaker system calling code something. Petrified my instinct was to get my baby. I waked out of my room and the emergency fired doors had closed. Without checking them (Like a sane person would have) I went back to my room and cried. I was in my defence full of drugs and hormones. I called the nurse. everything was fine someone had accidentally opened a door which tripped the alarm. they returned my baby and fed me tea and toast. I didn't sleep again. I waited till about 6:30am and rang my husband in tears. I told him what had happened and just said it's time for me to come home. I just want to come home could you please come and get me?
No way, I've got to work was his response, I tried again to explain how upset I was and that I wanted to go home, he could just drop me home then go to work. pleading with him at this point, he told me to fuck off and he'd come and get me when he was ready. Well that was enough for me, he'd already hung up on me so I dialled mum and dad and told them if they didn't get me now I'd call a taxi. They were there in ten minutes.
After leaving hospital, My other daughter fell ill that afternoon. Doctors confirmed she had hand foot and mouth (impetigo) not serious to her but potentially fatal to a new born and I could pass it onto her so my daughter was quarantined at my parents for a week. It felt like she was dead (dramatic and I mean no disrespect to anyone as I'm aware it wasn't that drastic but with a new born and hormones and her lack of ability to talk on the phone and a husband that was being an ass that's how it felt) She became so ill with mouth ulcers she ended up at the hospital. She came good not long after that and was finally home. My parents had recently quit their job/life in the city to come home and support me as they could see how bad things were in my marriage.
I can't even remember the exact reason why anymore but another fight and bout of silence lead me to need some space from him and move to my parents with my two kids as I knew he wouldn't leave if I asked him to give me some space. So I gave him a very detailed letter about my concerns of our relationship, kindly told him that without a change this couldn't continue. after about 4 days he reluctantly promised to change and work towards things getting better. He didn't beg me to come home or make a grand gesture of any sorts. It was a really sad existence for me in this marriage.
By this point, I had hardly any friends as he had managed to find fault in all of them and turned me away from them. Some being great friends which I will never have again and feel very sad about.
Life kind of just plodded along. I was so busy with the kids and so accustomed to his shit that most of the time I ignored it. This really made things worse I think now looking back. He didn't like that I was a strong person and didn't need him or bow down to him. I spent most of my days with the kids at my parents just to get away from my life. we were living in a small outer town of where I live now and to where my parents are so once we were at mums we were there for most of the day. I'd arrive home not long before him and so the house wan't always as neat as it could be, he'd attack me verbally about being a slob and lazy and if I wasn't going to keep HIS house clean I should go to work instead of him and he would do it.
I'm pretty certain now that I was heavily depressed but him not caring one iota about me and me battling with two kids and really him acting like a third i didn't really notice.
I fell pregnant again. I had really conflicting feelings about it. Of course I wanted this baby, who wouldn't after having two amazing ones already. Our relationship was already shit though and hanging by a thread in my eyes. He was working away in another town as there was no work here so our relationship was spasmodic at best. We had lengthy discussions, no that's not true, I had lengthy monologues and he would insert a few words here or there as to having this baby. But to simplify it, If we have this baby, shit has got to change. No one is happy right now living the way we are and I refuse to bring a baby into this family if it won't change. If we choose not to have this baby, that's it. No more kids. We don't get to pick and choose when is convenient to have kids. I'm happy he chose to say we would try and fix things and I'm fairly sure I couldn't have gone through with an abortion but it all needed to be said for him to understand the gravity of the situation.
So he promised, and i think he tried for a little while but here's the thing. You can't make someone change. If they want to change and try to be a better or different person for you or anyone, it has to come from them. forcing them or giving an ultimatum doesn't work.
My boy was a cesarean after such a rough trot the last labour and to avoid any more damage to my lady parts. It all went smooth and he was a healthy 9 pound. I chose to tie my tubes at this point as three pregnancies was enough for my body.
We played nice for some time and then the GFC (Global Financial Crisis) happened. We couldn't keep up with the mortgage payments on our house and reluctantly sold it. We moved back into town and into an older house. My youngest was 6 months. In order to pay for that house, husband started working away again. From then till Christmas he was home every 2nd or 3rd weekend. This was his undoing I guess. I realised very quickly that I was more than capable of doing this adult thing and be a parent on my own. The kids were happier when he was away as we couldn't fight all the time. Christmas saw him home for a few weeks. The day before my sons birthday we had a ridiculous fight and he was accusing me of being all sorts of nasty things as far as mental illness goes and saying I was a bludger because I wouldn't put my kids in child care to work. I had strong opinions about this as far as my own kids go (not everyone can afford this luxury i know) and he was in agreement with me at the beginning of our relationship. Pretty sure his parents had a good hand in changing his mind. anyhow, that was it for me. I was done. The strangest part about the day is I wasn't even that angry. I wasn't insanely crying or screaming at him to leave. I was calm and told him straight to his face. You need to leave. I am done with you and this marriage. I refuse to be treated this way anymore and and I won't be.
Simple as that. in a very complicated way.
I have not once at any moment since then thought perhaps I did the wrong thing divorcing him. That is a very comfortable thing for me. It has caused other problems of course with the kids. But divorcing this man was the best decision I've made to fix the worst decision i made.
Friday, 23 October 2015
"I DON'T THINK…" THEN YOU SHOULDN'T TALK SAID THE HATTER."
Forced sobriety certainly sifts through your friends pretty damn quickly.
Illness scares people away.
People aren't intentionally mean or hurtful.
I am sick physically most days and mentally others.
Don't stop inviting me places because I often cancel. Don't stop calling me because I sometimes don't answer. Please be patient with me as I need you right now.
Its not you its me. REALLY!
It's hard to have a chronic illness that no one can see. It's hard to smile when you are in pain.
It's hard to go out and enjoy yourself when you are always worried about being sick.
It's even harder to do this alone.
Call your friends when you think of them. Text them, send them a message on Facebook.
A quick hello or I'm thinking of you can change someones entire day.
This has been a public service announcement. Please note, no animals were hurt in the making of this post.
Illness scares people away.
People aren't intentionally mean or hurtful.
I am sick physically most days and mentally others.
Don't stop inviting me places because I often cancel. Don't stop calling me because I sometimes don't answer. Please be patient with me as I need you right now.
Its not you its me. REALLY!
It's hard to have a chronic illness that no one can see. It's hard to smile when you are in pain.
It's hard to go out and enjoy yourself when you are always worried about being sick.
It's even harder to do this alone.
Call your friends when you think of them. Text them, send them a message on Facebook.
A quick hello or I'm thinking of you can change someones entire day.
This has been a public service announcement. Please note, no animals were hurt in the making of this post.
Monday, 19 October 2015
NEVER UNDERESTIMATE AN EMOJI
Dear diary,
I know, its been a while since I've put pen to paper hasn't it?
But you have to understand, life with an iPhone is so much easier than writing in a diary every day.
It allows me to use emojis (these little symbols that express exactly how your feeling, a sad face when you are sad, a scrunched up face when you feel like you have made a mistake, and my favourite, a smiling poo!)
But, and this is hard for me to write, i smashed the screen.
It was an accident, I swear!! The guilt i felt inside was unmeasurable and alas, the damage was not only on the surface.
Siri, my friend, well, her voice went all masculine, like a man trying to be a women but you can still tell she's a man.
Its been 5 hours and 38 minutes since I departed from my iPhone, or as I prefer to call it, 'my life'.
I miss the updates when all my lives in candy crush have been restored, the sweet whistle it makes when I have a message, oh and to hear an alert again when I match with someone on tinder. The sound is ringing in my memory… trling…ing…ing..ing.
If I was texting you, my diary, this is where I would insert a sad smiley face with a tear.
I don't know how long my dearly beloved will be away getting fixed, or if for that matter, it can be fixed. (again sad smiley face x2)
The next week will be a test of character, will I cope, I honestly don't know!
I'm trying to stay strong. Only time and perhaps a new shiny iPhone will heal my pain.
I can't write anymore as its to upsetting.
hopefully, you will hear from me again, if my heart heals.
I know, its been a while since I've put pen to paper hasn't it?
But you have to understand, life with an iPhone is so much easier than writing in a diary every day.
It allows me to use emojis (these little symbols that express exactly how your feeling, a sad face when you are sad, a scrunched up face when you feel like you have made a mistake, and my favourite, a smiling poo!)
But, and this is hard for me to write, i smashed the screen.
It was an accident, I swear!! The guilt i felt inside was unmeasurable and alas, the damage was not only on the surface.
Siri, my friend, well, her voice went all masculine, like a man trying to be a women but you can still tell she's a man.
Its been 5 hours and 38 minutes since I departed from my iPhone, or as I prefer to call it, 'my life'.
I miss the updates when all my lives in candy crush have been restored, the sweet whistle it makes when I have a message, oh and to hear an alert again when I match with someone on tinder. The sound is ringing in my memory… trling…ing…ing..ing.
If I was texting you, my diary, this is where I would insert a sad smiley face with a tear.
I don't know how long my dearly beloved will be away getting fixed, or if for that matter, it can be fixed. (again sad smiley face x2)
The next week will be a test of character, will I cope, I honestly don't know!
I'm trying to stay strong. Only time and perhaps a new shiny iPhone will heal my pain.
I can't write anymore as its to upsetting.
hopefully, you will hear from me again, if my heart heals.
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