Saturday, 21 February 2009


The sun is shining today. Spring has finally sprung. The biting cold air has gone, replaced with a mild fresh breeze. The snow has thawed to reveal grass roots emerging, little bulbs poking out, keen to flower.

In my house winter has continued. Yesterday passed with not a single moment of communication between us apart from him helping with a wildly awake Sproglet at 5am. 5am!!! I went to work - manic manic day (why oh why am I working with an incapable writer in this, my hardest ever emotional week??). I ate fries and home baked biscuits and fed myself comfort. Returned home with Sproglet (first day he ran to hug me when I picked him up from nursery - since T've been back this week) and proceeded to work all evening. The knot still twisting.

I awoke today to to find a text from Husband - he planned to stay at work but would be home before we leave for our flight this afternoon. Yet as I crept down the stairs I heard his bear like snores from the spare room. He had sent me an email. At last - he speaks! 'Hey hon,' it began. Promising start no? He hoped the trip away would give us time to clear our heads and 'regroup when you return.' I'm up for a bit of re-grouping! Even if it sounds like some bad episode of Oprah. (No, I know, Oprah is a goddess who doesn't do bad episodes).

He said hasn't just automatically stopped 'loving my wife.' This gives me more hope. Where there is love, there is still hope. I know I have to change. I know that I can't be this ball of rage every day -it exhausts me let alone anyone else. Today I called my Mother - I read the email to her and in my Mother's typical style she managed to make it sound pessimistic. Some gate opened and out it all spilled. How I always feel she judges me and criticises - I have never been good enough. That ever since I had Sproglet all the old buried issues have shaken off their dust and leapt forward to the front of the pile. How being a Mother makes me reflect on my own Mother - and question more than ever why she made the decisions that she did. How - just because she is now sober - I can forgive - but I cannot forget those wretched tormented years where I walked on eggshells and lived in fear of her exploding temper - that could be set off by the smallest, most insignificant thing.

I was oddly calm. It was easy suddenly to say all those things that had remained unsaid while we went on with life, playing out the charade for the public that all was well in our worlds. I went into places I had long ago thought I had closed off, shut down. How it seems so normal yet is so far from normal that at 14 I decided to carry on living with my Mother's ex-boyfriend at weekends, when she had moved out. That his home was the only sanctuary for me during those hellish years. How my acupuncturist reckons I 'sought out pockets of love' - and how angry I am that I had to even go seeking. I often think that if it weren't for my other family - my friendships of old - where would I have ended up?

But I am here - and I have to accept that I brought myself to this point. I need to get myself out of it too. I need to get to a place where I don't hate my Mother any more. That the ball of anger bounces away. That I can be a less frustrated emotional soul. Needing less approval from every person I meet. That I fill myself up - not needing others to give it to me - like some emotional vampire who can not be satiated.

Husband said 'I am hoping that this short break will straighten my head out and I can think clearer about us as a family.' See that word again - he is hoping. I am willing to do the work. I just need him to meet me halfway. I can't make a marriage work by myself.

The snow fell and I wrote off my car. If that hadn't happened I don't think I'd be where I am. I was meant to be at this place. It aint a picnic I can tell you - but it's a starting point. I must away and pack. I can't wait to walk by the sea, drink endless cups of tea, see my oldest friends and hug my Father for the first time in over a year. Going home is where I need to be. At least I go with hope.

1 comment:

Monica said...

YAY! Have a good time.