I slept! I actually slept. The road to this blissful unconsciousness last night was possibly the longest, bumpiest, volatile one I've ever taken for a good nights sleep. But it was sleep.
It started of innocuous enough. (Doesn't it always) with arriving home after yesterdays duel with crying. (to cry or not to cry was the question) I had asked soon-to-be-ex-hub if he could possibly give me a hand this week, as its my last week in the house and at work, and that i was a little, well, overwhelmed. Sure. He says. He then proceeds to tell me that he won't be there all night Monday, is out Tuesday, and Wednesday but can be around Thursday. My retort was, well that's a fat lot of fucking good to me! I've got a week left and you not fucking well here at all! Yer selfish bastard of a boy. And then, in true toy throwing fashion, I had what can only be described as a Meltdown. In fact, I melted so spectacularly that I was genuinely concerned that I was after having some sort of nervous breakdown. (More like a breakthrough I would guess)
You see, I've felt so guilty, needley and shitty for putting my happiness above everyone else’s. I was miserable married to this great lug of a guy. Whose answer for everything was to buy something shiney. Or strut about a bit because everyone kept telling him how wonderful he was. Yeah, wonderful because I made him look fucking excellent! Mainly, despite of this, I didn't want to hurt him. But I wanted and deserved to be happy. You only get one shot, My Dad Keeps saying. And with only 3 months left, the man has a very valid point. So I lost it. I'd only asked him for one thing out of this whole mess. A week of his time. Since this kicked off (around 6 months ago) all he has had to do is bang his girlfriend. Mean while I've been packing, getting a solicitor, writing an Indemnity policy for the house, Organised a job fer myself in scotters, I've started the divorce proceedings, and he is getting the House and Contents and I'm signing the whole thing over to him. I've tidied, Hoover, babysat his child. I've provided food, and attend funerals recently to support him and his family. I've gone MORE than the extra proverbial mile. And you know what?
I'm knackered!!!!
I said to him. Mate, your life is peachy keen! All you've had to do, is look after the cat on occasion. Put yer face in here when your son is about, and bang your girlfriend. That's it! All the nasty shitty stuff that goes on when two people split you've No had to do!!! And you've the audacity to be angry at me!!! Let's not add to this that you've royally screwed me over. And I've let you. I got a lot of venom, a few angrily thrown comments and a lot of eyeballing. But even through the snott-addledness of my brain, and the tears embarrassingly streaming down my face, I stood my ground. Because I knew CATEGORICALLY that I'm right! He eventually admitted he was crap. And said, I gave him too much credit. Which I replied was a cop out. He also said that he was only ever any good in the past because of me. I pointed out that he had started to believe his own press and that he was an arrogant fucker. I did however stop short of telling him to 'Man the fuck Up Cupcake'........because I didn't think that would go down well. He also then said he felt awful. And was truly truly sorry (the most OVER used word in this guys' vocabulary. I'm not catholic, it doesn't absolve you.) Normally I would say something to recuse him from this hurt. But I didn't. And I told him I wouldn't. And then I went for a walk and had a fag. It was lovely. And I needed it. This doesn't mean I've gone back to 10 a day. It simply means I had a moment of weakness and that rather than beat myself to a pulp, I simply shrugged my shoulders and threw up. ( I knew I would LOL)
OUT of all of this. *Makes big waving hand gesture* I've come to the conclusion that I HAVE to stop putting the entire world not only a head of myself, but also stop putting it on my shoulders. I also have to stop feeling guilty for wanting happiness, and my own life. AND I have to stop feeling sorry for the guy. I'm not his mother and he is a twat with a capital T. (The GF will be pleased) Its also become glaringly obvious that I do have a cut off point. I am amazed actually that I have managed to get this far before my brain has fractured. Is it wrong to be a tiny bit proud????? I don't know.
My Dad once said to me, I couldn't care if you loved a donkey, as long as you are happy. And that is all I want, is to be happy. To be with the GF, in the loveliest part of Scotland, in my new job. To be able to be there for my Father in a USEFUL capacity when he goes. To hold my Mum up and be that beacon I know that I can be.
I'm a bloody strong woman. I am a smart, intelligent, dynamic individual. I've weathered many things in my thirty years on this planet, and I hope to weather many more things. (Perhaps not all at the same time though eh?) I can do this. I can make it through with most of my marbles intact. I JUST have to remember that some days will be worse than others. I cannot control the universe (I know, i was shocked as well.....) and that above all, I am human, and also deserve to be treated with kindness, love and respect. And this, Mainly from myself.
In other words. Stop letting others kick the shit outta yer, stop kicking the shit outta yerself, and give yer self a break.
Also, get off the Cross Kate. We need the wood.......
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