tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-11-10:/Life after Steve - a gorgeous, alcoholic, heroin addict cheat who still calls and still lurks at the edges of the life I am trying to get on with.MokoFeed2009-11-10T23:24:03+01:00tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-11-08:/2009/11/08/i-just-can-t-leave-well-alone-7333711/whoknows2009-11-08T21:48:32+01:002009-11-08T21:48:32+01:00 <p>So last night went pretty much to plan once my madness was over - until 2.30am.</p> <p>I went to bed soon after X-Factor, about 10pm, cos I'd had a bad night on Friday and was very tired, so I must have gone to sleep soon after, just read for a little while. Then at about 2.15 I was woken by people walking home. I was lying there thinking about the phone call again (my brain is nothing if not tedious)when I heard footsteps coming towards the house. In my head I actually thought, 'that's not Steve cos it sounds like girls' shoes', but then the feet came down my gravel drive, and I heard banging on the door. That could only be Steve.</p> <p>I answered co he sounded fairly with it for him. I thought he might need money or something. Then he started telling me about how he'd been chatted up by some 19 year-old girl and he could have gone back to Cannock with her. I told him there were still taxis running. He said that wasn't the point, that all the time he'd been thinking of me, and how she wasn't me, and how he loved me.</p> <p>So long story short, he stayed the rest of the night. No physical stuff, just to sleep. And partly because I couldn't get rid of him.</p> <p>Then this afternoon he came back again. He agreed that we had not been working before, but he wouldn't accept any of the blame for that, just made out it was all my fault. We had a REALLY long talk (all afternoon), where in the end I said I hadn't been happy the way things were, that heroin changed him too much, that I'd rather stay split than carry on the way we were. </p> <p>He said he wanted us to give it one more go. And I've said I will. When he'd left I sat and cried and cried and cried. I have no idea why. I could still cry now.</p> <p>I feel like I've opened the door to more heartache. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/11/08/i-just-can-t-leave-well-alone-7333711/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-11-07:/2009/11/07/update-7327406/whoknows2009-11-07T20:09:36+01:002009-11-07T20:09:36+01:00 <p>Well, it's too late to make the reservation now, so I sha;ll relax and eat chips <img src="/img/smilies/icon_biggrin.gif" alt=":D" class="middle" border="0"> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/11/07/update-7327406/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-11-07:/2009/11/07/trying-to-stay-strong-7327082/whoknows2009-11-07T19:03:24+01:002009-11-07T19:05:40+01:00 <p>It's actually been a pretty good week after Hallowe'en - which only got worse. </p> <p>I went to bed pretty early, and so woke up about 1am. I was reading when there was a knock at the door, at about 1.30. There were still loads of people around, lots of noise, so I thought it was someone messing about. Then it happened again, and someone was throwing stones at my window.</p> <p>I went downstairs and asked through the door who it was. It was Steve. I wasn't going to open the door, because he sounded completely shit-faced, but in the end I did, because I was worried.</p> <p>I needn't have been worried, he was a complete nightmare to get rid of. Completely off his head on heroin, I could tell from the stupid voice he had on. But get rid of him I did, even though because I was feeling so low in general I might have been tempted to let him stay if he'd been slightly less out of it.</p> <p>So this week I had a my traditional firework party. Steve had been phoning up saying he'd get me cheap fireworks, but I've learned not to trust him so I ignored him and sorted it out myself. We all had a fantastic time and I've still got a fridge full of food and booze, which is a result as far as I'm concerned!</p> <p>Tonight Small child has gone to his Dad's just for an overnight, as they are having a firework party. Off he went about 4pm. Then about 5pm the house phone rang - and when I picked it up it was this song - Sheepskin Tearaway by Babyshambles:</p> <blockquote><p>She opened her heart to a tearaway, a sheepskin tearaway<br> He was covered in scars and full of heroin<br> Everyone said from the start, not one single thing could ever be okay<br> She didn't listen anyway<br> She just opened her heart, and threw her cares away<br> At night they held on so tight in the dark, he brushed her hair away<br> She heard him say: "All my life I've been fighting and making the best of a very bad lot indeed..."</p> <p>All your fighting got you nowhere<br> If nowhere's here with you on my skin<br> And you could fight forever but if you killed them all you'd never win<br> So give me your surrender, there are other ways to kill the pain<br> that stuff'll never mend you<br> It's like trying to dry your eyes in the pouring rain.</p> <p>She opened her heart to a tearaway, a sheepskin tearaway<br> All covered in scars and full of heroin<br> Tearaway, a sheepskin tearaway... </p></blockquote> <p>I know he always thought that song really related to our situation, but why phone me to play it? He didn't speak, but obviously it was him. I phoned him, but he didn't answer, so I didn't do anything else.</p> <p>Then I remembered that AGES ago, just before we finished, he'd talked about booking a meal at a posh restaurant for this weekend - we were going to have this meal then go to the big local bonfire to watch the fireworks afterwards, because I wanted to do more romantic things, and this was one of the ones we talked about. So I'm wondering is he still thinking we're going? Can't be, surely? </p> <p>So why am I sitting here in full make-up? Only wearing my dressing gown though, so I can slob out and drink wine and watch Harry Hill and X-Factor, which was my plan before the weird phone call. </p> <p>Then there's always the worry that he's going to hurt himself - but there is no way I'm going round to his, so all I'm doing is writing this down to get the whole stupid thing out of my head so I can forget it and watch telly.</p> <p>And I do feel better for writing it down - the whole thought seems totally ludicrous and I have no idea what I was thinking - he phoned and played the track because he is a junky and they do inexplicable things! </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/11/07/trying-to-stay-strong-7327082/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-10-31:/2009/10/31/it-s-hallowe-en-7282361/whoknows2009-10-31T20:28:06+01:002009-10-31T20:28:06+01:00 <p>It's Halloween, and I'm alone with nowhere to go. Small Child is with his dad after I had him for a holiday for a week. I miss him so much. No trick or treating for me this year. I went out to the shops to buy myselfa new purse and some stuff from Lush to cheer myself up. All the pubs are decorated, and coming home I could see people dressed up to go out, all with someone. That isn't me any more.</p> <p>And all my friends are with their other halves tonight, I can't impose on them. Should have thought and organised something earlier I suppose. So I'm all alone, and lonely for the first time. I love Halloween, it's one of my favourite nights out. It's not Steve I miss so much - he probably wouldn't have wanted to go out anyway - it's being able to have loads of friends to go out with. Everyone is busy except me. </p> <p>At least at Christmas I'll have Small Child - the ex doesn't want him for some reason. Feeling really down - I think it's worse because I had such a nice holiday. Am crying as I write this, because I feel so alone. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/10/31/it-s-hallowe-en-7282361/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-10-14:/2009/10/14/omg-7166665/whoknows2009-10-14T10:49:54+02:002009-10-14T10:49:54+02:00 <p>Just popped the TV on while I was writing. Have you SEEN that low fat cheese ad???!!!!!! The one with the mouse and all the mousetraps!!! My heart is still in my mouth, SOOOOO heart-stopping!</p> <p>YAY FOR THE MOUSE!!!!! </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/10/14/omg-7166665/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-10-14:/2009/10/14/acceptance-7166640/whoknows2009-10-14T10:44:51+02:002009-10-14T10:44:51+02:00 <p>Put on the TV and there was news of a Bob Dylan Christmas album.</p> <p>'Steven would have loved that,' I thought. Then I pulled up short - it was the first time that had happened. Always before when there's been Bob Dylan news I've thought, 'must tell Steven that.' </p> <p>Even the least conscious parts of me must now know my brother is dead. There's something a bit sad about that. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/10/14/acceptance-7166640/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-10-11:/2009/10/11/not-lonely-just-alone-7148347/whoknows2009-10-11T19:57:09+02:002009-10-11T19:57:09+02:00 <p>I've been keeping busy the last few weekends, but this weekend I didn't.</p> <p>I'd forgotten what it is like to be alone for a whole weekend. I'd forgotten the things I like about it. To wake up on Saturday morning with the house perfectly tidy. To be able to read two Saturday papers, then watch two DVDs then go to bed and read a book.</p> <p>To wake up on Sunday and the house is STILL perfectly clean and tidy. To potter around in the garden, then watch two more DVDs, then catch up on Facebook and blogs. Then Small Child comes home.</p> <p>He doesn't like sport, 'but I don't mind fielding in rounders or cricket. You just stand around and think things.'</p> <p>This is right up there with his query last week about how he could get a girlfriend.</p> <p>'I thought you didn't like girls?'</p> <p>'I don't, but you need a girl to have a baby, so I've got to really. I thought I might get a French girlfriend. I hear they cook a really good seafood platter.' </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/10/11/not-lonely-just-alone-7148347/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-10-04:/2009/10/04/not-stalking-facebook-or-otherwise-7098381/whoknows2009-10-04T20:21:07+02:002009-10-04T20:21:07+02:00 <p>I was quite surprised that those who responded to my last post were urging me to go for it with B! I'd expected a damn good telling off for even thinking about it. I've not done anything - not because of his age, but because of him having a girlfriend (or 'girlfiend' as I typed in the last post - too bloody right!) and me working with him. And because it wouldn't be fair - not only am I older, but I am SOOOOO much wiser. Like a teacher dating a pupil or something.</p> <p>I think that's how he sees me anyway - he'd probably be horrified I even considered his interest to be anything else. All the problem discussions and stuff - I'm like a Mum. His Mum is only a couple of years older than me - though he had the grace to say I look a lot younger!</p> <p>The girls from work went for a night out on Thursday. Very enlightening. They all think that the blokes we work with (B and S - J is married to my boss so we didn't discuss him!) are completely downtrodden by their girlfriends and are under the thumb and too domesticated for their age (they're 22 and 23). I've never met either of these girls, but the others have (I only do one clinic day, the rest I'm in residential, hydro, day centre or college). They were saying I'll see them at the works Xmas Party, because partners are going. So that will be interesting.</p> <p>So, just the usual tedium this end. Did I tell you I'm engaged? No? Now THERE's a story! </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/10/04/not-stalking-facebook-or-otherwise-7098381/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-09-30:/2009/09/30/inappropriate-7068028/whoknows2009-09-30T11:21:55+02:002009-09-30T11:21:55+02:00 <p>Remember B - newish qualified, into all the evidence-based practice, good-looking and skinny (good) but driven, intense and over-enthusiastic (bad), and obviously WAAAAY too young for me?</p> <p>He's a really good colleague, we get on well. He's recently been telling me all these problems he's having with his girlfiend and asking advice and stuff. Then yesterday I did a training session for all of us, and at the end he was following me around and asking questions, mainly to do with it's relationship to his girlfriend's problems. He gave me his email and asked me to send him the powerpoint presentation, which I did. </p> <p>I am SOOOOOOO tempted to Facebook stalk him. It is an entirely inappropriate urge. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/09/30/inappropriate-7068028/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-09-11:/2009/09/11/cannibalism-6942415/whoknows2009-09-11T13:57:50+02:002009-09-11T13:57:50+02:00 <p>Last night when I got back from work, Pope Benedict XVI (he's a fish) was stuck behind the filter. He often does this, so I went to free him and EURGGGH! He was dead. And not just dead, his tail and fins had been eaten off!</p> <p>I looked suspiciously at Mirror Carp, who looked belligerently back at me and started leaping out of the tank because he wanted food. Baby Baby Cyril's fancy tail looked a little bit tatty at the end. </p> <p>I fished (hehe) out PBXVI and put him in the dustbin, pondering that he was an old fish and had been swimming sideways for about a year now. He'd probably died and Mirror Carp had eaten him, accidentally nibbling Baby Baby Cyril in a feeding frenzy. Mirror Carp used to be tiny until Ripples (the Tank Daddy, a massive thin fish who swam fast) died three or four months ago. Now he has tripled in size at least.</p> <p>This morning I came down to find Baby Baby Cyril behind the filter. In trepidation I freed her. Half her fancy tail was gone.</p> <p>So I got Mirror Carp out into a bucket (no tank water for him, let him suffer in tap water), and after Small Child had gone to school I took him back to the Fish Supermarket.</p> <p>'I bought this fish from you three years ago and he's turned cannibal. D'you want him back?'</p> <p>They did. He is now a small fish in a big pond.</p> <p>Baby Baby Cyril is a tiny fish in a huge tank. I'll buy some friends when she has recovered.</p> <p>It was a bit early for a glass of wine, so I bought a pair of high-heel Victorian lace-ups from New Look to calm my nerves.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/09/11/cannibalism-6942415/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-09-11:/2009/09/11/the-unbelievable-night-6941798/whoknows2009-09-11T12:10:58+02:002009-09-11T12:10:58+02:00 <p>Ok, so I'm finally at a far enough distance to write about what happened.</p> <p>As you know, last thing was that Steve was being lovely, being really nice to me and making me wonder if maybe he really had changed.</p> <p>That Friday he bought round a 'chiminiere' - it was a rubbish bin on legs! He also dumped loads of wood on my patio to burn in it. We sat outside until after dark by the fire, it was all going really well. Then he said he wanted to come on holiday with me and Small Child - we were going the next weekend. </p> <p>I said no he couldn't, because we weren't in that place any more. He ranted and raved about how he still loved me, then stormed off. I finished the bottle of wine then went to bed.</p> <p>About midnight he phoned on the house phone and said he'd overdosed on his methadone, and paracetamol. Now if only I'd been sober I'd have realised he couldn't have done it as his pick up is Saturday so he'd only have one bottle anyway. Or I'd have just phoned for an ambulance. As it was, I didn't really think, and just threw on some clothes and went round to the B and B he lives in.</p> <p>He let me in, then locked the door behind me and kicked me onto the bed. He ripped off my clothes and put them on top of the wardrobe. Then he grabbed my hair and banged my head on the wall time and time again, pulling my hair out by the roots into the bargain. I was trying to fight him off, and it ended up with me pushed in a corner of the bed trying to fend him off as he hit me, he was biting my arms and face as I tried to push him away or hit him back. </p> <p>He said he was going to kill me and I believed him. I screamed and screamed, but no one came (he's on the second floor of an annex, but his window faces the road). In the end I gave up struggling and just protected my head. </p> <p>Eventually he passed out - I think he'd taken diazepam rather than methadone. I got my clothes back, got the key and legged it. By the time I got home it was 3 am.</p> <p>I still can't believe it happened. Being held hostage? It only happens in films doesn't it? </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/09/11/the-unbelievable-night-6941798/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-09-02:/2009/09/02/what-s-lard-6872602/whoknows2009-09-02T07:23:22+02:002009-09-02T07:24:50+02:00 <p>Was watching 'Bottom' with Small Child (yup, completely unsuitable, but Father Xmas brought him the boxed set), and they mentioned lard.</p> <p>'Mummy, what's lard?' he asked. </p> <p>I explained it was fat. Not nice milky fat like butter, just white fat out of meat, that you use for cooking things in. Being fairly slovenly about such things, I showed him the fat in the bottom of the grill pan from doing bacon. Pretty lardyish. </p> <p>'Yuk.'</p> <p>'That's nothing, when I was little we used to have dripping, which was the fat from the beef left in the fridge to solidify so it went lardyish on the top and brown jellyish on the bottom, and then Nanny would make us sandwiches with it, and we'd fight over who had most of the jellyish stuff.'</p> <p>He looked horrified.</p> <p>'I would NEVER have thought Nanny could be so CRUEL!'</p> <p>The Seventies are Another Country. It feels strange that my stories of childhood are as alien to him as Mum's tales of The War were to me. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/09/02/what-s-lard-6872602/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-09-01:/2009/09/01/a-little-story-for-brokendownangel-6865465/whoknows2009-09-01T07:30:39+02:002009-09-01T07:30:39+02:00 <p>A friend of mine once trekked to Everest base camp, she was on the medic staff for the Everest marathon.</p> <p>On the way she was enchanted by the water streams. How wonderful to be able to drink from a crystal clear source! She took the opportunity to do this on all occasions, and each time would rhapsodise about how much more healthy it was than manky chlorinated British tap water.</p> <p>Higher up the trail they discovered a dead sheep in the stream. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/09/01/a-little-story-for-brokendownangel-6865465/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-08-31:/2009/08/31/my-life-according-to-the-smiths-6859749/whoknows2009-08-31T12:55:06+02:002009-08-31T12:55:06+02:00 <p>This is a meme I found at brokendownangel's:</p> <p>Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, answer the following questions. You can't use the band I used. Try not to repeat a song title. Repost as "my life according to (band/musician name)"</p> <p>Pick your Artist:<br> The Smiths</p> <p>Are you a male or female?<br> Girl Afraid</p> <p>Describe yourself:<br> Girlfriend in a Coma</p> <p>How do you feel?<br> Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now</p> <p>Describe where you currently live:<br> Cemetary Gates</p> <p>If you could go anywhere, where would you go?<br> Nowhere Fast</p> <p>Your favorite form of transportation:<br> What Difference Does It Make?</p> <p>Your best friend is:<br> Shakespeare's Sister</p> <p>What's the weather like?<br> There is a Light that Never Goes out (yup, tenuous, but the best I can do!)</p> <p>Favorite time of day:<br> How Soon is Now?</p> <p>If your life was a TV show, what would it be called?<br> I Started Something I Couldn't Finish (Really Wanted 'Strangeways Here We Come' but that's an album title)</p> <p>What is life to you?<br> I Want the One I Can't Have</p> <p>Your fear:<br> Panic</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/08/31/my-life-according-to-the-smiths-6859749/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-08-28:/2009/08/28/how-6843129/whoknows2009-08-28T18:39:39+02:002009-08-28T18:39:39+02:00 <p>Went for my blood test (they have to regularly check my hormones for my weird hormone thing and thyroid) and my right elbow vein has tissued (I think it means collapsed in some way or something - gone hard, they can't get the needle in). The left one is still not working either. She went to try my left hand.</p> <p>'I'd try the right if I were you - the left one went with my venflon when I was giving birth'. Finally she got a vein on the side of my wrist.</p> <p>Now if this is what happens after a few blood withdrawals a few months apart, how the hell do heroin addicts manage?</p> <p>I asked Steve. He looked at my arm and said, 'I'd get blood from you no problem,' and proceeded to show me many and various veins he'd try. 'And I wouldn't make that mess either,' he commented, since the try at the elbow and the wrist had left bruises. </p> <p>They really should have the experts rather than the nurses doing this blood malarky. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/08/28/how-6843129/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-08-26:/2009/08/26/just-good-friends-6827211/whoknows2009-08-26T17:12:31+02:002009-08-26T17:12:31+02:00 <p>So I bet you are all thinking Steve's long gone?</p> <p>Well, not really. We are sort of, well, I suppose, friends. He's a better friend than he ever was a boyfriend. </p> <p>He sorted out the car battery. When someone keyed the passenger door, he used some man-stuff to erase the marks. He took away all the cuttings from my hedgetrimming adventures, when I didn't know what to do with the pile of wood and leaves covering my lawn. He takes me for drinks at the weekends. He bought my mum a fridge magnet. Nothing is ever my fault any more, and he is almost always sober when I see him.</p> <p>Yesterday I had terrible period pains by the time I left work. Small Child went to bed early, luckily, and I was lying on the sofa feeling really sorry for myself. Steve had phoned earlier, and he turned up with a bag of stuff from Lush to cheer me up. He made me tea and more painkillers then distracted me from the pain by chatting until it the painkillers kicked in. He told me not to worry about being stupidly overemotional and to just cry, then brought in the tissue because my mascara always hurts my eyes when it runs.</p> <p>But can we stay friends when I still fancy the pants off him and the last thing he says when we part is, 'I'll always want you back'?</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/08/26/just-good-friends-6827211/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-08-23:/2009/08/23/funny-how-things-turn-out-6803317/whoknows2009-08-23T20:13:38+02:002009-08-23T20:13:38+02:00 <p>When I tore my marriage apart at the seams, A (along with many others) cut me out of her life and sided squarely with the Ex. This wasn't a problem, as he needed our mutual friends more than I did, and she was never a close confidante. </p> <p>I've not done more than see her in passing about twice since then, so it was a surprise when she started chatting on Facebook. As she works at a school she's off for the holidays, and so we ended up meeting for lunch one Friday. Another of my friends came along too, and so it was only when she left that A hurriedly said she needed to talk, and could she come round to mine on Wednesday.</p> <p>This Wednesday when she turned up, she told me that her marriage is on the rocks, that she'd been about to leave when her husband had a massive heart attack. He is now completely in denial, and every time she tries to broach the subject he gets an angina attack. Meantime he is being extremely unpleasant, and she's at her wits' end.</p> <p>So I went out with her this Friday also, and listened to the catalogue of woes again. </p> <p>It's strange how things turnout. She knows what will happen to her when her marriage ends (as it surely will), because she saw it happen to me. She knows she can't speak to her other friends because they won't approve or understand. The only person who does is the person she's been blanking for two years. </p> <p>It has been said that I should have told her where to go, but that's not my style, and I don't think it's necessary. She now knows that the way she's acted to me was wrong, and experience is harsher than I could ever be.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/08/23/funny-how-things-turn-out-6803317/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-07-31:/2009/07/31/one-day-in-your-life-6626842/whoknows2009-07-31T19:01:31+02:002009-08-16T18:39:51+02:00 <p>I'm sure everyone has 'their' Michael Jackson song. 'One Day In Your Life' is mine.</p> <p>It's one of those 'songs that got away - I absolutely adored it when it was out, but I was busy revising for my 'O' Levels, and was on minimal pocket money, so somehow never got around to buying it. When he died, and it was on the radio again, I was immediately back in Criccieth, alone in the caravan, revising madly during the half-term break before the exams - my parents deciding, in their inimitable working class way, that the holiday year was not to be disturbed by teenage exam angst - and quite right too!</p> <p>As usual, I can't embed the youtube thing, so here's the lyrics:</p> <p class="center">One day in your life<br> You'll remember a place<br> Someone touching your face<br> You'll come back and you'll look around you</p> <p>One day in your life<br> You'll remember the love you found here</p> <p>You'll remember me somehow<br> Though you don't need me now<br> I will stay in your heart<br> And when things fall apart<br> You'll remember one day</p> <p>One day in your life<br> When you find that you're always waiting<br> For a love we used to share<br> Just call my name, and I'll be there</p> <p>One day in your life<br> When you find that you're always lonely<br> For a love we used to share<br> Just call my name, and I'll be there</p> <p>It's a beautiful song - more beautiful to me now I suspect. In those days it brought on a nostalgia for a feeling I'd never had. The sum of my relationships was unrequited yearnings plus sad little relationships with boys who yearned for me in an unrequited way - but I felt they deserved a chance because I was unworthy of anything better. I remember an especially unsavoury situation where I dated the brother of the guy I actually fancied. I was a useless teen.</p> <p>But now - well, I've felt exactly how the sang says - as recently as last year. </p> <p>And now I'm old enough to know that eventually you need a song that says, 'and one day you'll call my name but it'll be too late.'</p> <p>There are other Michael Jackson songs that are precious for reminding me of times in my life - 'Thriller' and being at my Big Sis's, 'Bad' and getting off with Dai, 'One Bad Apple' for school holidays when I was little - but 'One Day In Your Life' is the only one to make it onto my ipod.</p> <p>It's amazing to me how many of my ipod tracks are ones that got away first time around. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/07/31/one-day-in-your-life-6626842/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-07-31:/2009/07/31/bizarre-event-6622002/whoknows2009-07-31T07:05:41+02:002009-07-31T07:05:41+02:00 <p>I am sitting here and can't quite believe what has happened this morning. Being my usual insomniac self, I was up about 4.30: wide awake and drinking tea, playing Sorority Life on Facebook and wondering when would be a reasonable time to knock on C's door and ask if he'd put the battery back in the car for me. </p> <p>Then about 5.20 my phone went. It was Steve, saying he was outside and had come to put my car battery back in for me before he went to work. I looked out and it was true. The Small Town grapevine is as active as ever. </p> <p>He seemed completely sober and sensible - no swearing, no anger, no inappropriate displays of affection and pleading, just came in, got the battery and fitted it.</p> <p>Car still didn't start - just the same 'duuuu' as before.</p> <p>'The battery's fucked, I can bring a new one round and fit it tonight if you like.'</p> <p>I was in two minds about it, because I don't want to lead him on, and being perfectly honest I don't want to put temptation in my way, but I need the new battery and I don't fancy hoiking one back from the garage with Small Child in tow. </p> <p>'So long as it's just a new battery....'</p> <p>'It's just a new battery.' </p> <p>No shouting, no ranting. He just looked sad. </p> <p>It is easy to not want to be with him when he's a mess. Harder when he's on a straight head. But by tonight he won't be. </p> <p>I don't know how I feel. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/07/31/bizarre-event-6622002/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-07-30:/2009/07/30/what-is-the-universe-trying-to-tell-me-6619963/whoknows2009-07-30T20:42:48+02:002009-07-30T20:42:48+02:00 <p>My car died today. I put the key in and it didn't even do that 'dutdutdutdutdutdutdutdutdut' thing. Just 'dutduuuu', then 'duuut', then 'du'.</p> <p>Walked Small Child to his playscheme, whilst phoning the Boss to come and pick me up, and my Dad then the garage, who both agreed it was the battery - especially since it is the one that came with the car, which is 11 years old.</p> <p>After work the Boss came back with me to take my battery out to charge it, because she's better at that sort of thing than me. C next door, like all men, couldn't allow this to happen and hobbled out (he's got a sprained ankle) with a bucket full of tools to 'help' (read: take over completely). Then the Boss attached the charger without even having to read the instructions, which I thought was pretty impressive.</p> <p>Meanwhile I made tea and generally faffed around like a stupid girly. My only useful thing was to say I didn't think it was the alternator because the dash light hadn't gone on. I do know a bit about cars from Dad and Steve, but I'm rubbish practically. And I don't like getting oil on my hands.</p> <p>That's one way Steve was useful - he'd do car things. But then, I must remember he always left me to put the spiders out cos he was too scared. </p> <p>Why is all my stuff breaking down recently? </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/07/30/what-is-the-universe-trying-to-tell-me-6619963/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-07-29:/2009/07/29/an-unprecedented-occurrence-6614296/whoknows2009-07-29T22:21:12+02:002009-07-29T22:21:12+02:00 <p>I've not been in a good place, pre-occupied, trying to avoid the crap. Did have a lovely holiday in Tywyn though sunny, would you believe it.</p> <p>So today, in the effort not to think I totally cleaned out all the hallway crap, the old shoes, the coats that don't fit, the spiders in the corners, even cleaned the woodwork. Was very pleased with myself, and then me and Small Child went to get the shopping for Mum and Dad, and went to theirs.</p> <p>'You got swine flu or something, you look terrible,' Dad said when I walked in. Puzzled I looked in the mirror. I'd inadvertantly gone out without make-up. I hadn't even brushed my hair.</p> <p>I don't think I've done that since I was 14. With much the same result. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/07/29/an-unprecedented-occurrence-6614296/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-07-16:/2009/07/16/gossiping-6528027/whoknows2009-07-16T17:31:11+02:002009-07-16T17:31:11+02:00 <p>Last night I was on Facebook (I'm addicted to Sorority Life!) when a Simon, a friend of Steve's started chatting. We started off talking about Sorority Life (his gf, Kate, got me into it and has made him join her sorority), but then inevitably he asked what was going on with me and Steve. So I told him the whole story.</p> <p>I was surprised at how sympathetic he was - he said he totally understood why I'd done what I'd done, and that I had to think of myself and Small Child. I suppose it's because he's a dad. That's an example of how self-absorbed Steve can be, now I come to think of it. Simon and Kate had twins just over a year ago. Steve didn't get around to seeing them or sending any good wishes, and finally texted them about two weeks after the birth. Then he was fretting over why they didn't reply. It had to be about Simon not wanting to be friends with him, Kate must have been badmouthing him and so on. Couldn't possibly be that both of them had other priorities and were exhausted coping with twin babes!</p> <p>They've moved away from here, and that means Simon doesn't see Steve. He's someone who was a really good friend to him, and nothing to do with drugs. So he felt a bit guilty about not being here, but we both agreed that there's nothing anyone can do to help Steve anyway when he's on self-destruct. </p> <p>Went to bed after midnight, after getting all the moaning off my chest. Weirdly felt better, as though I'd been approved of. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/07/16/gossiping-6528027/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-07-15:/2009/07/15/clear-out-6517087/whoknows2009-07-15T08:37:33+02:002009-07-15T08:37:33+02:00 <p>Small Child had a blue bag for unwanted clothes for charity. So I filled it with my 'fat' clothes - my clothes from after I had him, when my thyroid went tits up and I piled on the weight. I have no idea why I kept them this long - I've not been fat for three years now, and have no intention of being fat again (even if it does mean starvation at times, because the thyroid is still dead). </p> <p>Even now I've kept a couple of tops for sentimental reasons - really pretty, but size 18. Otherwise I was ruthless. </p> <p>That's so me - vowing to be ruthless but letting a couple of things slip through the cracks. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/07/15/clear-out-6517087/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-07-12:/2009/07/12/if-only-life-were-a-story-6498842/whoknows2009-07-12T18:26:07+02:002009-07-12T18:26:07+02:00 <p>Small Child clambers into my bed with his teddy.</p> <p>'Is that the end then?' he says.</p> <p>'The end of what?'</p> <p>'The story of you and Steve.'</p> <p>'I suppose it is.'</p> <p>'It was a sad ending wasn't it, Mummy?'</p> <p>I haven't the heart to tell him that where relationships are concerned, the ending is always sad. Even the most perfect relationship ends in death at some point. </p> <p>And life isn't nice and tidy like books are. The stories don't always have neat endings, the tale sometimes drags on way after everyone's bored with it, and sometimes when you think you've come to the end of the story, you turn the page to find there's a whole other chapter.</p> <p>The story of me and Steve - it's over bar the shouting.</p> <p>I've just had the nicest weekend for a long time. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/07/12/if-only-life-were-a-story-6498842/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-07-10:/2009/07/10/back-to-school-6484076/whoknows2009-07-10T12:25:30+02:002009-07-10T12:25:30+02:00 <p>So Small Child went back to school today - luckily it was a 'no uniform' day, so he was quite excited about that - but still ended up crying about his home learning book.</p> <p>So I took him early and spoke to his teacher about why he hadn't been in school yesterday, and also about how he seems to have completely lost confidence in himself over the last year - as related to school lessons.</p> <p>She understood completely, and didn't seem to have any problem with him not coming to Sports Day. She said he had no reason to be concerned about his schoolwork - that he is more than keeping up. Then we talked about the occupational therapy assessment (the school gets a copy). She also didn't think he was Asperger's, because he is extremely sociable and popular, but she thinks he is sensitive in lots and lots of ways, and that he finds even friendships overwhelming (like he gets overwhelmed with too much noise) and that he will then isolate himself. </p> <p>The OT assessment has been useful because they are no longer trying to make him sit on a table with others - he'd moved to a single table at the beginning of the school year, and his teacher had been trying to get him to move back with the others on 'his table' (he's still counted as part of one of the tables). Now she's not as the OT said it is his way of cutting overstimulation so he can concentrate. </p> <p>So I feel much better about him at school - I sometimes worry that people think he's a weirdo (because that's what Steve calls him), but it seems more like the other kids accept his eccentricities because he is a class comedian and a bit of an entertainer all round.</p> <p>Dunno what will happen next Sports Day. <img src="/img/smilies/grayconfused.gif" alt=":??:" class="middle" border="0"> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/07/10/back-to-school-6484076/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-07-09:/2009/07/09/feelings-6479887/whoknows2009-07-09T17:59:41+02:002009-07-09T17:59:41+02:00 <p>All through today I've felt a bit weepy, for no real reason. </p> <p>The adventure playground place was closed for a function, so we went into the nearest big town instead, and visited the art gallery - Andy Warhol exhibition the highlight, Small child really enjoying doing his own Warhol-esque photo. At lunch it was all I could do not to cry, dunno why.</p> <p>Then we came home and I've hennaed my hair, and now feel very much better. Again, dunno why.</p> <p>Maybe because I saw all the cars parked up for Sports Day and felt a little thrill of being naughty! </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/07/09/feelings-6479887/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-07-09:/2009/07/09/sports-day-no-way-6477011/whoknows2009-07-09T09:16:07+02:002009-07-09T09:16:07+02:00 <p>Small Child was up and in my bed at 6.30 in some distress because the sun was shining and it's Sports Day. </p> <p>He is always last. This is no exaggeration - his physical development is the bottom end of normal for his age, and it's more obvious because if he'd been born a week later he'd be in the school year below (in Scotland he'd be in the year below because they have different school years). I know as he gets older this will make less difference, but at 7 it makes a lot of difference. He's a string bean (don't know where he gets that from!) and can't control his legs. </p> <p>It's probably not right to teach a child to run away from problems, but sod it. The occupational therapist says we chould be encouraging him to enjoy physical activity and increase his confidence by praising his physical achievements. I don't see how the ritualised humiliation of Sports Day (for that's what it is for kids like him) will help with that. Last year he burst into tears and I had to help him to finish the course. He was in Key Stage 1 then, so it was ok. Key Stage 2 is a different kettle of fish.</p> <p>I've made his day by keeping him at home. I'm taking him to the local adventure playground instead - to go on the assault course - it's a brilliant one, through the trees and stuff. Then tomorrow, to show you don't run away from problems, we are going in to school to discuss what I've done and why. And also to tell his teacher he's lost his home learning book, which is something else he was crying about. </p> <p>I know I can't do this every year, and I don't want to, but this year he is so fragile, not liking his class in school and so on, that this was a pressure too far. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/07/09/sports-day-no-way-6477011/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-07-09:/2009/07/09/thursday-morning-6476625/whoknows2009-07-09T08:07:53+02:002009-07-09T08:07:53+02:00 <p>I think I feel worse today than I did on Monday and Tuesday. I'm not anxious, but I'm angry with myself that I let Steve get to me. I feel sort of doomed. Looking back, I can see that none of this is about me: he's not concerned with what I want, my feelings don't matter to him. All he cares about is himself - and he wants me for his own reasons, that's all he cares about.</p> <p>I'm like a possession - why would he care about the feelings of a possession? He regards me as his and doesn't think I should have any more say in the matter than a chair or a lampshade. No wonder he gets so angry.</p> <p>So it never would have worked. It would be like it has been for the last few months: fine until I opened my mouth to disagree with him and them him getting violent and angry with me, then storming off or hitting me when I wouldn't back down.</p> <p>And the possessive thing - he's now a stuck record - his brain can't move on it's so addled. I never was the possessive one - apart from that one night when he very suspiciously suddenly wanted to got out. How possessive would he have been if I'd done to him what he's done to me? I'm not the one who wanted to live together, or get married. He's the one who'd phone every day to check up on me. It's all projection, that's what it is.</p> <p>So, I think I will run away on Friday. I can't think of anything there's any point in saying. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/07/09/thursday-morning-6476625/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-07-08:/2009/07/08/what-happened-tonight-6475230/whoknows2009-07-08T22:50:41+02:002009-07-08T22:50:41+02:00 <p>Steve turned up on time, and initially at least looked to be quite normal. He was very apologetic, saying all the things that always win me around. I stayed calm, but it was getting to me. He was looking so much better than recently. It started up all those thoughts in my head about maybe this time it will work out. We even kissed.</p> <p>But then I saw his eyes droop - just for a second, but unmistakable. So I backed off, and we chatted and watched TV for a while. So just as Torchwood started it was clear enough that he'd been doing heroin before he came over. So I told him that nothing had changed, he was only ever going to be hurting me, and I'd rather just leave it now than go through another six weeks, six months or six years of hurt.</p> <p>So then he lost the plot and started being really horrible, saying as many nasty things as he could think of, and then, laughably, shouting that, 'you're too possessive of me, I can't do anything, I can't breathe!' So I laughed and pointed out that I'd just told him I didn't want to be with him, and how could that possibly, in any way shape or form, be interpreted as being possessive? I then told him the fact he could talk such crap just went to prove that he was out of his tree on heroin and that it was destroying his life again, the same as it always does, and I don't want to be around to see it, and in fact don't care anyway (that bit wasn't true, but he was due some payback).</p> <p>Then he started crying and holding on to me and saying he loved me and was sorry. I was just worn down by this point, fed up and wanted to watch Torchwood in peace, because I could see we were going nowhere. Finally he left, and has already phoned me once wanting to come around on Friday. I'd already told him there's no point. All his tools are in my back garden which is accessible via a gate. He can get them whenever he wants. Then I realised that Friday I go to the Ex-brother-in-law's funeral, and Small Child is being picked up from school by his Dad so I could stay at my Mum and Dad's, could even go clubbing with school mates who knew EBIL. So I might.</p> <p>Can't decide though if that is just postponing the problem. Presumably the more I keep saying no, the quicker he'll get the message. Or is it better to just disappear? I'd prefer that, because I do find it draining, and I do find it hard to be firm with him because I do still care.</p> <p>Time for bed. I've been reading the same book for about three weeks!</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/07/08/what-happened-tonight-6475230/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:virtueorsin.blog.co.uk,2009-07-08:/2009/07/08/preparation-6473534/whoknows2009-07-08T18:17:43+02:002009-07-08T18:17:43+02:00 <p>I've no idea if Steve remembers he's supposed to be here, sober and drug-free, at 7.45. He phoned and texted several times last night until about half past midnight - I answered once each to say that we would talk today.</p> <p>So I've had a bath, put on clean clothes, refreshed my make-up, worn the perfume I always used to wear when we first met. This might seem an excessive amount of effort for a man I say I don't want back. And yes, I'm doing it all for him. Because I want him to want me so that when I say no he'll hurt as much as he's hurt me. </p> <p>He's finally pushed me into attempting vengeance. Just this once. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://virtueorsin.blog.co.uk/2009/07/08/preparation-6473534/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>