In your eyes I stand accused
Quilty without trial the problem
You’re better without
No more messy feelings smashing things
Anger difficult emotions tidied away
Under lock and key
I just wanted to be seen and heard
A hurt little girl needing reassurance
Even if the sky tumbles the Earth crumbles
You not abandon me to insanity despair
I didn’t need you to understand
Just be there hold my hand
Just back from the dentist, the verdict I need two crowns which would set me back a hefty sum which I can ill afford, especially after the hiatus of the New Year period. But needs must, teeth is not a luxury; they come in pretty handy when chewing your food which is essential for survival. So no more weekly trip to the first movie of the day which is $30 cheaper nor the odd lunch out or snacks.
During the procedure out came the trusted needle and syringe containing anaesthetics. It occured to me lying on the dentist chair about to be tortured the side of my mouth numbing nicely how wonderful it would be if there was anaesthesia for broken hearts. No searing pain of loss, rejection, betrayal. No trauma. No anger, confusion, despair, disbelief, shock. Zilch. Numb. Nothingness.
The dental work began but I screwed up my face in pain. No problem. A top of the anaesthetics and I could relax, spared of any pain, lie back and think of …
Definitely a gap in the market, even more than rent-a-husband. I am such an entrepreneur coming up with such ingenius original ideas. Sir Alan Sugar eat your heart out. I don’t need to be The Apprentice. I am already the Master!
Please I’d like a refund
I seemed to have bought the wrong brand
Oh really madam why’s that
Well you see I thought I was getting the unconditional one
The one guaranteed to last forever
I am sorry to hear that
But unfortunately it is company policy not to do refunds or exchanges
We state clearly that the onus is on you the customer to check your purchase
Ah but I didn’t realise there was a Love Limited Edition
It lasted for my first brush with cancer But ran out half way through the recurrence
Leaving me high and dry
Madam I’m afraid that is a common mistake
Next time make sure you don’t drop your glasses
Read the small print
The two look suspiciously similar
Thanks for the advice
But I doubt there’ll be a next time
I resolved in 2014 not to write about heartbreak nor cancer and not to be late, a very bad habit but I just want to write one last time about lost love.
just like that
here one minute
gone the next
gossamer blowing in the wind
petals floating on the shimmering water
to the shores of the past and beyond
The tides come in and out
carrying debris from the ocean floor
the smoke of a summer barbecue
the blast of a motrobike shooting by
tulips windmills amsterdam
There was you and there was I
Then we became us
And the Little One
Three In One
I felt complete
The storm clouds descended
Thunder lightning stuck
Gale force winds
Love hate resentment entwined
The music stopped the flowers wilted
The Friendship Tree no longer bloomed
Signalled The End
I often wondered where that Love went
Did it evaporate or simply got lost before GPS
Is there Lost Property where one could claim it back
Provide evidence of Love once owned
Say the kid we created out of Joy and Intimacy
Is that proof enough
Or a consulting room where broken hearts could be mended
Like a garage for broken down cars
I’m over you
The collateral damage no longer haunts
I have survived the friendly fire
Withstood the chill of indifference
Being eliminated excommunicated eradicated
Yet here I stand TALL
it no longer matters
that I don’t exist in your eyes mind nor heart
I exist I know I laugh I cry I love I care I dare
It is enough for me and me alone
I rarely recommend books but the other day I came across a youtube clip of Dr Brene Brown talking about the difference between sympathy and empathy and it was fascinating and thought provoking. So I went to the large bookshop in Shatin and hunted down one of her books I thought it was just me (but it isn’t).
I love that she says it takes courage to admit our vulnerability and not a sign of weakness, to be avoided at all cost. It reaffirms our fundamental human nature; are we not all vulnerable at certain points in our life? Who can be strong, sorted and keeping it all together all the time? If they appear to be then they are just better at masking their fear and putting on their game face.
I used to think I was fundamentally flawed, over-emotional, irrational, would cry at the drop of a hat, didn’t get on with the in-laws, obviously I was the problem, fell apart with my recurrence rather than being stoic, keep the stiff upper lip and look on the bright side of life, counting my blessings, after all there are people worse off, right? I was a coward, an imposter at work pretending to be a good teacher but soon I’d be found out by Ofsted and exposed, I couldn’t be calm and carry on and take what life had to throw at me.
I didn’t just shrug and took it on the chin when my husband chose to have a mini nervous breakdown when I needed him most during the chemotherapy. Nor when he left me to my devices to sink or swim afterwards when I had struggled with superhuman courage and strength to get better, when I thought we had weathered the storm and things could only get better, He chose that precise moment to excommunicate me from his life, heart and mind. Still gobsmacked how he could just comparmentalise the past, present and future. He announced my position as the devoted spouse was surplus to requirement with immediate effect, no redundancy package, no pay in lieu of notice, nope, zilch, as if he was saying I fancy fish and chips tonight.
I felt it was because of my myriad of faults, weaknesses, merely being me that caused the marriage to fail so dramatically and utterly. I had made his life hell, my recurring depressions, the recurrence led to the demise of the business as he couldn’t focus on turning it round, my social ineptness at getting along with his parents made him piggy in the middle all the time adding further stress … He’d waited all these years for me to change but it is clear I wasn’t going to. I am too stubborn, I could get better, I knew how, God knows I have been advised by enough therapists, psychologists … but I had to do it my way.
I wasn’t tough enough, rational enough, socially skilled, fun enough, chilled enough, in short I just wasn’t good enough. There was something seriously wrong with me.
Dr Brown’s message comes as a great relief, there is nothing fundamentally flawed with me, I am not paranoid, the problem, I am just human, like the rest of the homo sapiens, imperfect and vulnerable. This is the best present Santa could have brought.
They say there is plenty of fish in the sea, really? I must have been looking in the wrong one. Maybe there are but honestly would you want them? Surely by my age the good uns, the ones you would have dared to take home to see Mother are all snapped up and if their woman has any sense will be keeping them on a tight leash. No takeover possible.
And the ones available will generally fall under three categories: never married and you have to wonder why, widowed, still pining for their one true love and separated/divorced. The trouble with going out with a man going through separation is he may very well realise the error of his ways and reunite with wifey dearest. Even if he met you after the initial separation you are still technically ‘The Other Woman’, to be despised and villified by the injured party and the offsprings. Worse still they may not really be separated and are actually happily married and he is just selling you the ‘my wife doesn’t understand me’ line.
If they are divorced they still have to pay alimony. If there are children that is worse, he will have the financial burden of supporting them till they reach the legal age of being an adult. If you marry he’ll have two families to fork out for, unless he is a billionaire you are always going to be arguing about money. You also run the risk of being Mrs Rebound.
You single women out there, listen up, we won’t die without a man but we will without food or means to support ourselves. You can be happy, repeat after me, you can be happy and live a fulfilled, meaningful life single. Love comes in all shapes and sizes and from unexpected places and not always with the pretty wrapping. It doesn’t have to be the man falls madly in love with woman ride off into the sunset and live happily after variety. Anyway you know and I know ladies that that is the biggest and most insiduous lie of all time, since records began. We are brainwashed, sold this lie constantly from movies, songs, media, advertising etc etc.
There is no happy after and fairy tale, no fairy godmother to wave the magic wand and turn the toad into a prince, only struggle, pain, hurt and if you are very lucky a good honest guy who will stick by you through thick and thin and last the distance. Otherwise when the going gets tough the tough get going.
Not that I am looking mind, just saying.
Be careful what you wish for because it may just come true. My dream came true, a husband, a baby, a house, two cars, two cats and even two pygmy goats into the bargain. The latter was my ex’s idea. I’ve never been a high flier or a career driven person; what I craved was my own little happy family and to give my child the best childhood which I was deprived. That is the ideal and if the husband part, you know, loving, supportive, emotionally available, respectful then it would have been perfect.
Sometimes we mourn our loss to the point that we can no longer function properly in normal life, as in my case, yet fail to recognise that what we had wasn’t all that fantastic. Maybe, just maybe, not having it anymore is a blessing in disguise. Perhaps the person who hurt you and betrayed your trust did you a favour inadvertently and released you to live a freer and happier life.
I used to be a black and white person; it is either right or wrong, there is no grey area, truth is truth, absolutes exist. I hated pastal colours because to me they were wishy washy. I needed things to be definite, either this or that. If there is one thing I have learnt is that there is no absolute and there is no TRUTH per se. It is all open to interpretation and influenced by your own experiences and personality. Even brought up in the same family, my experience of my childhood is very different from my sister’s as her asthma meant she got all the attention.
Everybody wants to be wanted and loved but I feel we need to be needed too. It gives us a sense of purpose. I guess that is why some who retire get depressed and experience a loss of identity and meaning. The empty nest syndrome too.
I spent an obscene amount of time figuring out why my marriage failed, the what ifs we all torture ourselves with, because let’s face it rejection sucks. Those immortal words ‘I don’t love you anymore’ resound still; they are the words you never want to hear, ever. I have been on both sides, the rejecter and the rejectee. In all the three long term relationships it is only my ex, the last serious lover who ended it. Karma? We can all come up with justifications but nevertheless hurt was inflicted, intentional or not; certainly I know the rejection caused a lot of pain to my first boyfriend. But I thought it would cause him even more if I went through with the wedding unsure if I really loved him, enough to want to spend the rest of my life.
Now I have progressed to thinking about why I put up with the emotional abuse. The tragedy and irony are I would still be in this soul destroying marriage if the abuser hadn’t got bored and pulled the plug. In other words why did I settle for crumbs when I could have had the whole cake and ate it and the most delicious of cakes at that.
I am not a stupid person. I am not a genius but I can think for myself and I do have opinions and am articulate. I am a professional who has always been in education and I love that moment when you are explaining something to a kid and the penny drops and he gets it. I am a feisty person, if I know I am right and you are taking the mickey I will fight you and get what I am entitled. I am a very fair person, I believe in justice and I will even fight for others, strangers, for their rights.
So how was it that I ended up a doormat, a silent and depressed one lacking self confidence and esteem? To shut me up is virtually mission impossible but he managed so you can imagine how awful the putdowns and constant criticism in private in public were. The drip drip drip effect is very powerful especially over a long period of time and because the doses are so minute but frequent you are not even aware. It’s a form of brainwashing. Why did I allow it? After all I wasn’t held hostage and chained or locked in a room. Love. What I thought was love but was only crumbs thrown my way now and again so that that light bulb moment would not happen. No road to Damascus epiphany for me.
I was grateful for the crumbs, it was better than nothing. Freud would be proud. Yes let’s talk about my childhood and my mum and dad and siblings, because that is where this settling for crumbs started.
I am the baby of the family, you’ d think I’d get all the attention, be spoilt rotten, no chance. All that was given to the sister above me who was a sickly child with asthma and they were terrified of her falling ill and forking out for doctor’s bills. It didn’t help either that my birth heralded the poorest time of their lives and I’m talking about sharing a bowl of rice between all the kids and Mum going without kind. And I’m not exaggerating.
Bless my cotton socks I was a perfectly healthy, robust, contented baby; I never cried or demanded anything so they basically forgot about me. I assume they fed me now and again and did the necessary. Apparently when I was old enough to walk they tied me to a post in front of the ancestral home so I wouldn’t wander off and drown in the stream and they could get on with the business of putting food on the table. That is how I got the nickname. ‘Little Crocodile’. Every time someone passed by I lifted my little head, that was the highlight of my day.
Perhaps that is why I didn’t expect much and was prepared to put up with a lot of shit during my marriage. I’d never been showered with love, made to feel special and finally there was a man who was willing to marry me and start a family, my own happy family which I have always craved. It all seems to make sense now but none of this was conscious at the time.
I swore I would marry by the time I was 30 and I did. I fell in love with K at first sight and knew this is the man I’m going to marry and I did. Tall dark handsome over-rated. What you really need is a man who will go the distance, who will stick by you not just once through cancer but twice and as many times as it takes. Now if I ever have a relationship, and that is a big if, all I want is a a good man and one who will treat me well and think I’m the best thing since sliced bread. One who accepts me warts and all, honest and faithful. I can share everything but not my man.
I’m learning not to settle for crumbs because I deserve better. We all do. Don’t accept second best out of fear: loneliness, rejection, abandonment, old age, not being able to cope, make it on your own,
It struck me that I am obsessed with what hurtful destructive things my ex said and thereby keeping the fire of pain burning and thus the inspiration for this post.
You are beautiful
I want to see you laugh not cry
I don’t want to hurt you
I admire your strength, ability to get off the floor and begin anew
I can’t wait to show you off to my friends
I love it that we can talk about anything
You are a good woman
You are very attractive
You are still young and beautiful
I don’t deserve your love
I can’t give you what you want it is best to be honest from the start
I’m ending it to protect you from hurt I don’t want to be the one to inflict more pain
I care about you a lot I want to protect you
I love hearing you laugh
I want to see you happy
I don’t want to promise what I can’t do being faithful is an alien concept
I don’t want to lie lead you on and you hate me and we can’t even be friends
Although some are said ending the brief relationship at least he is being honest and shows respect and genuine love. Love shouldn’t hurt. If you care about someone you want to protect, see her happy; you certainly shouldn’t be the one inflicting the pain or causing the damage.
- Love : Sorrow or Shame? (hskflyer.wordpress.com)