Frozen in time

I have a task to convert tiffs to jpegs. Dull but necessary. Still, 4 months ago I didn't know what a tiff was. There were lots of things I didn't know months ago and now I do. Life is simply like that, one small lesson after another, one huge jigsaw.

So instead of Jpegs and tiffs, I lie in bed, mulling.

I woke this morning so tired, that I walked sideways into the wall and bashed my face. Last day of term and so I looked for the cards I had written to the teachers. I looked in the fridge. It didn't bode well for the day ahead.

In fact, in the short period that I could stay awake, I managed to rewrite one press release to appear as if it had been specifically written for tall people, for male people and for people that had a blank canvas. I am still waiting for the clients response on my copy line for the gay market. Pretty nifty work I thought, until the whole thing was scuppered by intermittent internet. Technology was never my forte, that was always the art of the tenuous link.

I had a call from my work guru today. A formidable business woman with the softest heart, she called to say that she had won another pitch. She hadn't really expected to since the woman she was pitching to, was intimidating. Apparently, she stares directly at you, completely expressionless. It turns out that this is not intimidation but the result of too much Botox. She has no expression because her face is frozen.

Having recovered from the hysterics I found myself with, it got me thinking. The way we present to others is easily misconstrued and all too frequently we are unaware of the impact on others. A bit like the business meeting I attended in which I realised that my silence was taken for quiet authority and made me the focus of the answers. The other person could have no idea that I was silent simply because I had absolutely nothing to say.

So in my skill of the tenuous link, it got me mulling on parts of the conversation that took place

last night. We all go through life making an impact, good or bad on others and likewise, people make an impact on you. Acknowledging that for what ever reason, someone else see's something in you that was good, should never be a hard thing, it should never be something that you recoil from. If you do, there is something that has gone very wrong.

One of the things that I have enjoyed most about being single, is the freedom of thought and of choice, unhindered by misplaced guilt. Next month I am taking the children camping. A trip with friends and with my ex-blind date and his children. This man is an important part of my life. I met him, liked him but do not want a relationship with him. We are adults, we like each other, care about each other and I feel priveledged to have him in my life.

What I could never do is dismiss him as a person simply because his feelings for me did not match mine for him. On a completely superficial level, I feel honoured that he cares and feel equally priveledged that anyone shoud care, even if the feelings were not reciprocated.

So this is the perplexity. If I tell someone that I care, or cared about them - it would be reasonable to assume that they should not have some form of panic attack. It doesn't make sense. If I told He who cannot be mentioned' that I cared about him, it would be reasonable to expect him to panic - since he would not be sure of my motives and deep down he would know that the world must be about to end. However, if I told him that I had cared about him, even he would get that it means nothing more than the statement it is. And he gets very little.

I knew someone once that had been abused as a child. In fact, 'he should not be mentioned' had an extremely emotionally abusive childhood and the effect of that is palpable in the behaviour he has as an adult. The thing about the person I knew, is that they thought they are so good at hiding it. They weren't. I always thought that the saddest thing about this person was that the one thing they craved most was love. It was also the one thing that terrified.

It didn't matter who tried, they were always pushed away. Abusive childhoods come in all shapes and sizes and the scars, if you allow - it can define your entire life. This friend was sexually abused. She could do the relationship, until the sex. This is the point she was numb, the point she recoiled and this is the point that the relationship was on it's way out. Only it was never her, always another reason and always about the other person. It was never the reality, never that she had an issue with intimacy. One that was not her fault, but in not facing it - she was allowing to control her life.

The hardest thing about caring, the trickiest task as a friend, is in allowing them the freedom to think that they are just fine. When you really do care, you have to go along with the pretence, because sometimes people simply cannot face the past.

And until they do, there is no future.

For the rest of us mere mortals, when someone saw something in you that they considered good, don't acknowledge that by being unkind. That, is an issue

Mr Big shrinks

I did something today that I needed to do along time ago.

I sought clarity. I didn't gain it in any form of true honesty, but I gained it in the way I expected.

Defensiveness means people are too fearful of putting themselves on the line. True honesty is when you can let the barriers down and true honesty is something rarely seen in anyone.

Frankly, partial honesty would be a start. In seeking clarity this evening, I am not entirely sure what I expected to achieve from it and yet I gained a lot. What I really gained was the knowledge that sometimes people, too afraid of their own honesty, will turn things around in a bid to avoid answering things they are not comfortable with. Before you realise it, their issue becomes your issue and sadly, they can believe this to be the truth.

If there is one thing that I am renown, is that I will be entirely honest about my view on you. If I think you are an arrogant arse - I will tell you. If I think you are an arrogant arse that is an arrogant arse because your mother refused to give you ice-cream as a child, I will tell you that too.

What I will never do is tell everyone else that you are an arrogant arse and smile sweetly to your face. It would simply never happen.

Another thing I learnt tonight is that people invairably have hidden agendas. I met someone recently who was so addicted to another person that it bordered on a clinical obsession. A long discussion had ensued where I had voiced the opinion that I simply did not believe that another was as simple, or as hard as appeared on the surface. My experience had not been a parallel and I couldn't agree that it. It clearly didn't go down well as the next evening I was blanked in the street. It would appear that the translation of this conversation was very different.

This, I find fascinating. Someone so addicted that they have befriended as a way of staying close. Someone so alarmed by another having shared some level of closeness that they would feel the need to manipulate a conversation to reflect badly. And someone else, seemingly naive to friendship and of female manipulation, would need to believe something in order to justify their own behaviour. It seems that all have a hidden agenda.

What I realised tonight is that sometimes people are stuck at a certain point. They may well never get past it but their need to deny it, to make behaviour appear acceptable, means they have to twist and turn and dump the blame on someone else's door.

The only clarity that I gained tonight was the one that I already knew. Clarity is not the same as honesty and in a sense, nor does it need to be. Emotional intelligence is of higher value than cognitive intelligence. Fear protects you from absolutely nothing. An ability to be honest is not a weakness, an inability to be honest is.

I also learnt that rumour is something you hear and you believe the bits that you fear most in yourself. If there was a rumour about you with no credence to it, it would be water off a ducks back. If you know it to be true and reflects badly. . . . Ouch.

Reputation is something that you earn from behaviour. Reputation never comes from one rumour. It comes from the experience of others or a multitude of the same rumour.

Question rumour and learn from reputation.

I cannot choose what people believe but I can choose reputation. Sometimes people are so stuck in their behaviour that they can be oblivious to reputation. Sometimes when people try so hard to appear big, it makes them appear really small.

Deflection, defensiveness and inability to be open. What I saw this evening wasn't a kind person, nor was it a person lacking arrogance and no matter how much I believe that deep down is another person, this is the side that reputation is built on. And yet it was their ability to misjudge me that I was more fascinated by.

I was hoping that tonight that I would gain enough clarity to be able to be angry. I failed.

I felt pity.

Such a shame

all this itching....

When I was a little girl, I picked at scabs. I couldn't help it, the minute they started to heal, I would start to lift the edge to see how far I could get before the pain or ickiness was too much. Then it would heal and I would do the same thing all over. I suspect that nothing has really changed.

Sometimes things cause me pain and I leave them alone. Then, after a while when I realise that there is still the potential for pain, I go back for a bit more. It appears that unless something has completely healed and dropped off, I have a compulsion to route around to make it all last a little longer.

I have also started to recognise some other things. I am acutely over sensitive. When I feel over sensitive, I feel vulnerable and when that happens, large heavy doors of defence come slamming down and this is the point people assume that I am an emotional hard arse.

And I can be. Shutting out vulnerability is at times, a whole heap simpler than experiencing it. If I think someone is about to hurt me, my inner male appears as if by magic and I have the emotional responses of someone with a large degree of testosterone pumping around their body.

And this has happened several times this week. I am the emotional hard arse that is not fazed by anything or bothered by anyone. Except it is not entirely true. I am the emotional hard arse because if I had to put my sense of intuition on the line - someone would no doubt stamp hard on it - so I don't.

There is no question that I am strong. I can deal with most things, but I struggle with honesty and pretence. I struggle with people that pretend everything is okay when it clearly isn't. I struggle with people that cannot look you in the face, I struggle with people that suck you in and spit you out, I struggle with people that appear genuine and are not really and those that say one thing but who present body language that say's another.

I do not struggle with clarity and yet it seems one of the hardest things to obtain. What I struggle with most - is those that are as defensive as me. If you can get past the defensiveness, you get to the loyalty, if you don't - you get the emotional hard arse.

I thought last year, that I had met my match and I think I did. I had truly believed that they had been too good for me. They never were. But by the time I realised it, they had already started messing with my head. This is the point that the inner man started kicking in. I may well have met my match and he certainly had, but at this juncture of his life - he wasn't ready to get off the pedestal he needs to be on and I wasn't someone that would keep him on it.

Yet there was something there that left me vulnerable. There is no sense, no logic and it defied all reason. For someone with a long history of being an emotional hard arse, it truly irkes that I cannot make sense of my emotions being out of line with my logic.

Perhaps I met someone as defensive as me, perhaps a genuine emotional hard arse. Perhaps I met someone who is so wrapped in spin that he no longer has a real sense of self. Perhaps I my long standing guidance by intuition overrides logic. Perhaps I never heard honesty.

What has messed with my mind is the intuition being diametrically opposed to fact and this is what I need to understand. So rocked by the spiral of mixed messages and emotions, that my barriers are up and I am risking scaring everyone away with my extremely hard arse.Either way, there is something that reminds me of my rather unhealthy habit of picking at wounds as a child.

And yet I would rather die than voice that. My reputation and my defences depend on it.

Perhaps PR & Marketing is the only career for those that talk utter bull. In which case, I shall be very successful.

Maintaining standards

I spoke with the solicitor today.

Following a discussion with he who cannot be mentioned, in which I had told him that despite legal advice to the opposite - I would concede a clean break in exchange for securing the house. He would retain his house, his company, his pensions, assets etc and protect his future earnings. Since he apparently has none at he moment and no children to hinder his hours - it is a good deal.

So I was quite surprised by contact from his solicitors stating that I would consider a total clean break, one in which he retains all of the above and saves him from a necessity of providing any child maintenance at all, ever.

I think, perhaps, that the entire universe has gone quite insane. Thank god there are judges. There is not a judge in the country that will agree to a man who has his own company, owns a house, has an income, has capacity to earn - to being able to walk away from any need to provide money to someone else, in enabling them to raise said mans children

I suspect a full moon must be imminent.

Hardcore View

'Everyone looks at Pornography'

"Perhaps they do, but not everyone downloads hardcore porn,' Say I

'Well' says the other person

'Someone said to me recently that if you removed all the porn from the Internet, you would be left with one page that says - Where has all the porn gone'?

I was stumped by the statement. More so that anyone could consider this to be a reasonable claim to make, particularly as none of the pages on my computer hard drive have any pornography on them. So I google 'Where has all the pornography gone'? and there are 5,410,000 pages answering that query. I cannot validate the content, since I had no desire to open them. It does blow the 'normal' theory a little out of the water.

I do not take a puritanical stance on pornography. What ever floats your boat, it is not my place to judge but there are levels in which I see it as an issue. Pornography used in a relationship is an entirely personal thing. Pornography used in a relationship where only one person is being made aware of it, represents a potential issue. Hardcore porn would be a major issue.

A long time ago, I turned up at the office of he who cannot be mentioned proffering spontaneous administration duties. Whilst it appeared not to be an issue at the time, there was an extended period of sulking after. Apparently I am a selfish person since I was only offering what I wanted myself. I couldn't disagree, since I couldn't understand why I would offer anything I didn't want.

Even more importantly, why would you want something someone was not willing to give? Which is where I have the issue with pornography used as a means of avoiding dealing with real life. Real life means that people feel crap, they feel snubbed or they feel inadequate or rejected. The answer to any of these issues is opening your mouth and not the dodgy emails in your inbox.

When someone uses pornography as a way of avoiding intimacy they achieve one of my favourite terms 'the self fulfilling prophecy.' You use porn to avoid intimacy and then you have difficulty creating intimacy since you are using the unreal world of pornography.

I am, I think - fairly broad minded. The confines of a relationship make it fairly safe to experience whatever you want, as long as you feel safe to do so. Yet this only works within a good relationship, Fulfilling someone else fantasy is perfectly fine if it is simply a fantasy. When one partner has started seeing pornography as an escape route to real life and objectifies it to a level where women are willing and able to do whatever you want without question, with a lot of grunting and the kind of facial expressions normally associated with severe oxygen deficiency, It becomes not fine. When one partner becomes aware that the real world only exists in the fantasy one and feels obliged to behave in a way that excludes intimacy, it creates humiliation. It's a high price to pay for someone else's issue.

The risk for those with a thing about hardcore porn, is the inability to separate real from some fairly strong viewing. Watch enough of the stuff and it is fairly likely that you will become deadened to reality. Good sex is about intimacy, it's about safety, closeness, being comfortable and being free to experience whatever you feel comfortable with. Good sex is about a creating a relationship where you can be one thing one day and another a next. Good relationships mean that you can have intimate loving sex or a quickie in the larder. Good sex is not about needing to pretend you are something you are not to enable someone else to enjoy what is on offer.

I profoundly hope that I never get to the stage where I do not feel I can turn up at someone else's office mid way through the day but they had be pretty damn comfortable with the fact that I am doing it because I want to.

Drinking partners and dementia

A friend called this afternoon to find out what I had thought of Monday night.

'What happened on Monday night' Said I

'You met that man for a drink' She said

She pointed out that since it was already Weds and I had forgotten Monday, that this was unlikely to go any further. Since I had forgotten I had gone, I had given no thought to going again.

As a guide for dating, it's a good one

A Defensive Move

One of the things that I have always found moderately disconcerting about myself, is my ability to run 100 things through my head at the same time as having a conversation.

I went out tonight with close friend and we discussed everything. At the same time as discussing everything I ran several things through my head simultaneously. The first was the Mother-in-law/husband thing. The conclusion I reached was that normality is relative. Their level of normality is so far removed from mine, and that of most people - that there is no chance of them ever seeing their behaviour is a different way, since the way they behave is entirely normal. To them.

The other thought I had was that the Divorce and upcoming court case is the death knell for eldest child and fatherly relationship. I think there is a sad certainty that since his father appears blinded by the true cost of all of this, the only thing he will gain is the absolute certainty that he will lose his son for good. Fortunately I am not in the position myself but should I ever have to choose between money and my children's respect well frankly, it would be a non brainer. I feel much the same about my own self respect.

On another note. Ex blind date has told me (and he is not the first) that I have the emotional responses of a man. Having read some of his texts from women, I was genuinely shocked at how girly some of them where. Apparently, my shock is misplaced since I am, as he says 'not like most women'.

I received a text the other day from a man who suggested we meet for a drink. I was unable reply for hours since I could not find the right words. If I wrote that would be great, or 'that would be lovely' he may think I was keen. I was perplexed, not for want of game playing but purely because I didn't know if I wanted to go or not. Nice legs, very good thighs but a man that didn't appear to get me and in my mind: if you don't get me, you won't get me.

So I deliberated all day and in the end wrote 'On the drink front -that's fine' Granted not girly but I am past any stage where I feel any need to try and impress anyone with something I am not. So I met him, I had a good evening but at the end of it, he made a couple of assumptions that got my back up and that was it, door shut.

I though about it and realised something else. Shutting the door on something is about me being defensive. People can make me cry with ease and yet they think that I am the last person to have this response. Those that get to see me do it more than once are few and far between. Last night hook up thought he should tell me that I was clearly very strong and he had heard I was pretty feisty.

I can be strong, I can be feisty but as I learnt this year, I am also very susceptible to being very hurt and it is not somewhere I want to revisit. Getting to know someone is no doubt about them getting to know that you are not quite as the world assumes that you are. This is the point that they can trample all over you. The minute people feel they can make personal assumptions about me, I want to cry and this is the moment that I turn into an emotional hard arse.

So for the man that thought I was strong and feisty, the door is shut.

The joy of work

I can hardly bare the excitement.

I have calculated the benefit of working full time. Factor in the increase in income and the decrease in tax credits and it is a staggering........£56.00 a month.

I am so excited and simply cannot decide how to spend it. Or I was until I added the extra childcare I need and worked out that in fact., I am worse off.

On a positive note, it can only improve

The true cost of parenting

A horrid few days.

After a 18 months of abuse, he that should not be mentioned emails to ask if I need any help with childcare in the holidays. With only 3 weeks until the next court date, suspicion is aroused. Apparently he is no longer angry. Since any increase in contact has previously led to a decrease in income, I remain sceptical.

Having agreed that he would not want his children to be raised in Trowbridge, he then went on to tell me all of he reasons why his children should be raised in Trowbridge. Non of those reasons were for the benefit of the children.

Then I receive an email from his parents. An email in which they were utterly horrid about their eldest Grandparent. Apparently, adding to the acrimony, telling a child you will take sides and that you loathe his Mother is all perfectly acceptable as long as you send gifts. When said child has no wish to accept the gifts on the basis that the behaviour was such that should not warrant being condoned - then you are free to send an email stating that this child is selfish, spiteful, ignorant and self centred.

So I send an email back stating that I am glad that they feel comfortable behaving in such an unkind manner, but their need to be so mean about their Grandson said more about them than it ever could about him. The response back..... I need some form of therapy.

And perhaps they are right. But the difference is that if I thought I needed counselling, I would get it. In fact, since having had to come to terms with what really went on with this marriage - I did have therapy. Far more dangerous are those that think they are beyond any need.

So I range he who should not be mentioned, who considered there was nothing really wrong with his parents latest correspondence and since he didn't write it - it had nothing to do with him. It appears that he believes that since my own family and one of his, have wisely and maturely taken the course of not putting the children in the middle of this, they must be ****** saints.

They will be delighted. My father spent most of my childhood claiming he was in fact, God.

And perhaps I thought so too. I certainly placed him on his very own pedestal. One that he fell off for a long period until I accepted that he was in fact human. That is the thing about parenthood, we all stuff up and we all make mistakes but surely the mark of a good parent is one that can accept those imperfect moves and acknowledge them. When it comes to my own offspring, I refuse to sort every little thing for them, but when it comes to protecting them emotionally then you had better be prepared for a long fight.

For a 15 year old to witness a broken home is not a great thing. I fear far worse than of a younger age. A pinnacle and confusing period of your life and one that can probably leave a bigger impact than at any other time. Suddenly your life is turned upside down. Your standard of living drops, you have no stability since you don't know if you are staying in your home. Too stubborn to articulate, too proud to acknowledge fear and hurt, then it is down to the adults around to be in tune with what is really going on. For those adults that cannot acknowledge this, they may as well stamp on his head.

For any child that remains this angry or this stubborn has an issue and one that is completely understandable. What is not, are the actions of anyone that adds to it. For Grandparents to feel they have the right or desire to write words that can only cause hurt and for a Father that fails to acknowledge any responsibility in contributing to a situation where one child has felt he had to make such a stand that he refuses contact with both.

Sometimes Divorce is necessary. The acrimony, the extended damage to children and using property and money to try and exert power over another is not. It is clear that there are some that will fight for everything they can get at the cost of everyone else.

Maybe they will get what they want, but in doing so will risk losing the things that make life what it is. Friendship comes from giving, Love comes from giving, respect comes from giving, integrity from within.

All cost nothing and all are priceless. When you can look someone in the eye, you know you are being genuine.

So the children's future is dependent on me to provide it and a third party to decide what is best for them. It should be the parents but given the current situation, this has to be a better option

I remain sceptical.

A steady stream....

Many years ago, after a night of copious alcohol, a very good friend of mine mistook me for a lamppost and wee'd on me. Fortunately, I had consumed a comparable amount and thought it no more than a mental aberration. Until I woke up in the morning.

I had thought it was the only time in my life that I would be mistaken for council furnishing but it appears I was incorrect.

One of the small offspring has been unsettled for a period. Irregular night terrors, regular night time wanderings that invariably end in my bed, overly vocal in declaring undying love and a propensity to declare adoration at the drop of a hat. There are conversations that have been had, tucked up in bed with a stuffed kangaroo that have made the reasons understandable, but none I thought that would lead to a second incantation as a lamp post.

I was asked recently if people get married after they are divorced. Having assured him that I was in no rush to consider such venture, small child had proceeded to state that when Daddy gets better, perhaps we may remarry. Somewhat confused at the better part of the statement, it became clear when he stated that Daddy may get 'Better at being nice to you'

And therein lies one of the route causes. Children are not stupid, the observe and then they come up with their own conclusion. Months of watching Daddy not be able to be civil in response to any verbal contact, Daddy refusing all eye contact and Daddy walking behind Mummy without speaking on the few unfortunate occasions that we have shared tarmac. Since their friends have questioned the normality of the situation - you can magnify that thought process by about one thousand.

So the unsettled nights have been no surprise and the fact that they have continues even less surprising. Finding small distraught child crying on the top of the stairs 4 hours after he went to bed was not necessarily a surprise. What I didn't anticipate was the lamppost. As I walked up the stairs, I did take note of a strange sensation on my stomach, I noted it even more as it continued down my body. By the time we were at mid thigh level, I realised that I was in fact being urinated on.

Great. I am a lamppost.

WHEN THE BALANCE IS IN MY FAVOUR

I have a love hate relationship with Birthdays. I say that they don't bother me and then they leave me feeling flat. It is not an age thing in the slightest, I have never associated a single day as a point that defines my mortality. Besides, the older I get, the happier I feel and the more sorted my mind becomes. Despite this, I still associate it with a time of expectation that invariably fails to deliver. The best protection has always been to expect nothing.

Perhaps it is not this at all. The minute that I am told that something is the way it is, or should be the way it will be, I want to challenge it. Like booking a a taxi for a night out will guarantee a worthless evening. Preparing for a worthless evening and driving the car, is normally sufficient to guarantee a fantastic night.

So tonight I was proved wrong. Stage one birthday was spent consuming too much Vodka and ended with in depth conversation into the early hour with ex blind dates chum and another founding member of the 'Single people at Sunday Lunch Club. It also ended with the sobering realisation that my car was in a part of Wiltshire which I was not.

Apparently 'proper' birthday celebration was delayed until the weekend for the benefit of the boys, who are quite partial to birthday celebration and particularly ones in which cake is involved.

I have said it numerous times, but I feel immeasurably privileged with friends. With all the rubbish being thrown my way in terms of Divorce and trying to financially manage 4 children - I fear that I would be in a very different place without my army of buddies. No matter that sometimes I feel that I am not dealing with things as well as I might - there is always someone that gives me a hug, or simply demands an explanation if there is anything less than a spring in my step. Tonight, when I had a moment of somewhat subdued demeana, rarely witnessed by others - one of the mafia congratulated me. Apparently, so used to me being positive and full of determination, they all breath a sigh of relief when I am quiet, since it means that I am relaxed enough to be myself. Fair point. A word of warning though, if I am quiet, have a set jaw and am staring at you directly - it could be time for you to be alarmed.

So birthday stage 2 and its perfect execution. Child 2 makes an enormous chocolate cake. Admittedly it takes two hours to clear up the kitchen but it was a fabulous offering. The evening has been carefully orchestrated and I am not allowed a part, except attendance. At 7pm, someone turns up to put my children in the bath. I am then ordered the same. A scented candle lit in preparation and as lie amidst the bubbles, a knock on the door and a glass of chilled wine appears by the side of the bath.

By the time I appear, there are others and an accompanying abundance of food. Child 2 has found lights for the chair, the table is laid and flowers and tea lights have arrived. I have not lifted a finger. Sometimes, with the divorce, the pittance of maintenance and It's determination to force a sale, I wonder what I could possibly have done to deserve the way he has behaved towards us. Yet In balance, I wonder what I have done to deserve tremendous friends. Who knows, perhaps some form of balance.

It is the perfect birthday celebration: out of my control, perfect children, perfect friends and a perfect evening.

Perfect xx

A Sporting Chance

Sometimes I look at the boys and feel overwhelming pride. Sports Day is one such time. Not because they can kick arse on the track, nor can they throw further and harder than any one else but simply because they are unbearably cute.

Every year I get to Sports Day a few minutes late. Every year I watch them scanning the sea of faces to make sure that I am there. Every year they stand there grinning and waving so much that they almost miss their place. Every year I look at these scrawny creatures with their innocent happy faces and want to eat them. By the time they get home they are tired, bad tempered and I want to jump on their head.

Not this year though. Yesterday was my birthday and they spent it with he that is best not mentioned. Today they came home from Sports Day tired, hot and secretive. They disappear for long periods, reappearing once in a while asking for another piece of fruit. Since hunger is a common sensation after school and particularly so on a day of great physical exertion, it was of little surprise.

And then they both crept in, bearing a birthday gift of fruitt salad with homegrown strawberries and the last of a much favourite melon, all garnished with flowers.

Now I really want to eat them. If they retain any part of their ability to love and to be loved, then stand a sporting chance of happiness as an adult. And the makings of what makes a real man.
X