Thursday 28th July 2016
"Angry people are not always wise" - Jane Austen - Pride and Prejudice
After promising myself I wouldn't post Facebook statuses that were blatantly aimed at my ex, this week I let myself down. There are reasons, there are excuses, but there really is no need.
People say that I have been grieving over my marriage, because grief is a natural response to the loss of someone very dear. They say that I'll experience many emotions because there isn't a text book for each person and situation. They also say it may feel like it will never end, but that it will. Grief is unique to each person.
What I've realised is that my ex isn't grieving what he's lost. Lini has been compartmentalised and packed away in a part of his pysche, that I imagine won't unravel for many years to come. Lini is now just someone he used to know. I'm not even sure he thinks of me as someone he used to love, based on his behaviours towards me some days.
I understand that calling other people fat will never make you thin, calling other people ugly will never make you pretty and holding onto things that cause you pain will never heal a broken heart.
What he asked of me this week was unreasonable. Unreasonable in my eyes, my friends eyes and my families eyes. But the fundamental point is, that didn't matter to him.
I cannot waste my energy in hoping he'll be a better man, that he will think about my feelings in his actions. I have to accept that he is not ever going to put me first again. And the anger that I feel when he acts like a prick, is only ever going to upset me, and I really don't like being upset. It doesn't suit me, it's really not my colour, and you can't accessorise it with a good pair of heels!
I am not ready to forgive what he did, I am not ready to forget, I don't know that I will ever do either, but there was a moment this week where my rage just left me. I realised that was within my control. I was holding onto something that made me furious, but when I let it go, the relief was astounding.
I would like to know if there's anything else she'd like to take of mine, I mean I have 2 kidneys after all, after this week I'm not sure they're above asking for one of those... But even with that slice of sarcasm, I'm actually smiling...
Maybe it has been myself that I'm fighting, the Lini who believed that deep down there was a modicum of good left in the man I loved. That Lini and I shall no longer come to blows on that subject.
There are people out there who will take time out of their day to make you smile, not cause you pain. Today someone did that for me. With the simplest of actions, they made me beam from ear to ear. Why? The romantics will say because they're smitten. The cynics will say because they want something. The realists will say simply because they wanted to.
So it's with that dawning realisation that this Lini approaches this weekend with a much lighter heart, a smile from ear to ear and plans with people who think I'm pretty special.
See you in August! xx
Friday 29 July 2016
Wednesday 20 July 2016
Yo-yo...
Tuesday 19th July 2016
"I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine" - Jane Austen - Pride and Prejudice
On Saturday night, I realised that it was the 16th July. The 16th. A grin spread across my face. Why? Because this month I hadn't noticed the 13th and 14th pass by. I hadn't felt panicked or pained, in fact my pysche hadn't even reacted, it hadn't dragged me back to memories of the Valentines Massacre I'm trying to leave behind. I felt elated!
And then... well...
I was alerted to something my ex had posted on his social media, a photograph of him and... hmmmm how should I describe the c*** who thought nothing of repeatedly spreading her legs for my husband when we were together, whilst that is an accurate description, it doesn't very flow well, maybe we'll just leave a *** as an implication, because I have no wish to ever utter her name.
The photo didn't bother me, it was the content of the description that went with it. He praised *** for many things, but the one that stung, was for "setting him free". It read very much like the obliteration of my life was just her "setting him free". I was hurt, furious, angry, upset and hurt some more. I had never thought of our marriage as a prison he needed to be freed from. Whilst we were on different paths, I never imagined his was a caged walkway...
I reacted. Badly. I allowed it to consume me. When he came to collect some post, I was shaking with anger. I couldn't hold back the tears. He justified himself, said it hadn't meant to be unkind me, I was never supposed to see it, it wasn't about me and him, it was about him and her. Lovely to know...
He said something that made me even angrier, about how I'm the strongest person he knows. How even with everything he's put me through, I'm carrying on, I haven't become depressed, I still get up, go to work, push forward with my life, smash my challenges etc. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel about that other than, "Are you fucking kidding me?" If he'd chopped off my leg, would I be thanking him for making me realise I could still do things with one leg? Would I bollocks. I have never felt like I understood him less than I did in that moment.
I confess I haven't been kind to him on my social media, I have had a few pops when I've felt particularly low. Some angry tweets have been put out there. In fact even this blog doesn't paint him in a favourable light, however I think given what happened it's unlikely that I would extoll his virtues. Not that I could name any of them right now. But I'm the wronged party, I'm the one dealing with the hurt whilst he's just cruising on his free wings...
What I now realise is that 5 months is not a long time. Whilst I have been making leaps forward, and enjoying myself, there are times I have glossed over the depth of the wound. I have dressed it well, treated the surface damage, but the agony that lies deep within me, hidden most days from view, can be exposed with even just those 3 words I was "never meant to see".
I am strong, I am a force of nature some days, I am woman hear me roar etc..... but other days I am just a little girl, who's heart got broken so badly by the boy who swore he'd love and protect her until the end of time. There are times the lump in my throat prevents me from articulating what I want to say, times that my eyeballs sting and my lens become cloudy and my eyes fiercly green from the tears.
Someone told me that my heart will heal, that it's not my heart I need to worry about. It's my mind, that's where the damage is. I'm a overthinker, I play out scenarios and situations until I think I understand every outcome and eventuality. I can't envisage ever trusting anyone again, ever wanting to let someone truly in...
I don't know how many of you remember back in the day way before health and safety, when some property owners would put shards of broken glass in the top of their concrete walls to prevent people climbing on them (it may have just been a Yorkshire in the 80's early 90's thing, before some thief inevitably sued the property owner because they ended up cutting themselves on it!)
I guess I've built some walls I never intended to build, and the memories in my mind act like those shards of glass, their message being, "I won't let you close enough to hurt me..."
"I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine" - Jane Austen - Pride and Prejudice
On Saturday night, I realised that it was the 16th July. The 16th. A grin spread across my face. Why? Because this month I hadn't noticed the 13th and 14th pass by. I hadn't felt panicked or pained, in fact my pysche hadn't even reacted, it hadn't dragged me back to memories of the Valentines Massacre I'm trying to leave behind. I felt elated!
And then... well...
I was alerted to something my ex had posted on his social media, a photograph of him and... hmmmm how should I describe the c*** who thought nothing of repeatedly spreading her legs for my husband when we were together, whilst that is an accurate description, it doesn't very flow well, maybe we'll just leave a *** as an implication, because I have no wish to ever utter her name.
The photo didn't bother me, it was the content of the description that went with it. He praised *** for many things, but the one that stung, was for "setting him free". It read very much like the obliteration of my life was just her "setting him free". I was hurt, furious, angry, upset and hurt some more. I had never thought of our marriage as a prison he needed to be freed from. Whilst we were on different paths, I never imagined his was a caged walkway...
I reacted. Badly. I allowed it to consume me. When he came to collect some post, I was shaking with anger. I couldn't hold back the tears. He justified himself, said it hadn't meant to be unkind me, I was never supposed to see it, it wasn't about me and him, it was about him and her. Lovely to know...
He said something that made me even angrier, about how I'm the strongest person he knows. How even with everything he's put me through, I'm carrying on, I haven't become depressed, I still get up, go to work, push forward with my life, smash my challenges etc. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel about that other than, "Are you fucking kidding me?" If he'd chopped off my leg, would I be thanking him for making me realise I could still do things with one leg? Would I bollocks. I have never felt like I understood him less than I did in that moment.
I confess I haven't been kind to him on my social media, I have had a few pops when I've felt particularly low. Some angry tweets have been put out there. In fact even this blog doesn't paint him in a favourable light, however I think given what happened it's unlikely that I would extoll his virtues. Not that I could name any of them right now. But I'm the wronged party, I'm the one dealing with the hurt whilst he's just cruising on his free wings...
What I now realise is that 5 months is not a long time. Whilst I have been making leaps forward, and enjoying myself, there are times I have glossed over the depth of the wound. I have dressed it well, treated the surface damage, but the agony that lies deep within me, hidden most days from view, can be exposed with even just those 3 words I was "never meant to see".
I am strong, I am a force of nature some days, I am woman hear me roar etc..... but other days I am just a little girl, who's heart got broken so badly by the boy who swore he'd love and protect her until the end of time. There are times the lump in my throat prevents me from articulating what I want to say, times that my eyeballs sting and my lens become cloudy and my eyes fiercly green from the tears.
Someone told me that my heart will heal, that it's not my heart I need to worry about. It's my mind, that's where the damage is. I'm a overthinker, I play out scenarios and situations until I think I understand every outcome and eventuality. I can't envisage ever trusting anyone again, ever wanting to let someone truly in...
I don't know how many of you remember back in the day way before health and safety, when some property owners would put shards of broken glass in the top of their concrete walls to prevent people climbing on them (it may have just been a Yorkshire in the 80's early 90's thing, before some thief inevitably sued the property owner because they ended up cutting themselves on it!)
I guess I've built some walls I never intended to build, and the memories in my mind act like those shards of glass, their message being, "I won't let you close enough to hurt me..."
Tuesday 12 July 2016
Run Fat Lass! Run...
Tuesday 12th July 2016
I have to laugh, I wanted to call this blog something punny and amusing so I googled "fat lass running" for some inspiration. I was quite taken aback by some of the images that came up! Clearly I am not the first fat lass to ever don trainers and do a bit of jogging, and it's great to see that so many other women have taken up a challenge to get outdoors and achieve something.
The choice to run a 5km race is part of my 12 Challenges for 2016, and to raise money for a charity whilst improving my fitness, and helping achieve my other goals is something I am keen to do.
There are lots of inspirational meme's and quotes about running, and the #thisgirlcan pages are full of tips and motivation, so if you see me huffing and puffing my way round the streets of Hemel and beyond in the next few weeks it'll explain what I'm doing anyway. Though I think my neighbours are used to seeing me out in my black and pink trainers stomping the km's in for my 500km challenge.
I make no apology for being a fat lass, that's my "curse to bear". I did enjoy hearing a recent conversation where someone said, "she's got a pretty face, but she's not my type". I would reiterate that any decision or choice to lose weight comes from my personal drive, not in response to any comments or situations like that. #prettyforafatlass
I try not to think about the white van men who think it's appropriate to beep or holler at those of who are not natural athletes as we pound the pavement on our personal journeys. I could understand if they were beeping me because I was sitting on my sofa eating Peanut Butter Cup Ben and Jerrys and watching reality TV! A friend say maybe they're just beeps of encouragement to keep going and not give in, but I suspect people are not always that kind.
My Pretty Muddy Race for Life is on the 3rd September, a mere 53 days away, which sounds a lot, but in reality is nothing. The most I've managed to "run" consecutively for at the moment is 1km of the 5km and I haven't even advertised my fundraising page (shameless plug coming up) so I'm going to include the link here and hope that maybe just a few of my lovely readers will support me in achieving my goal, and in raising some money for research into the shitty disease that robs so many of us of the people we love.
https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/liniforrest
I have had my first sponsor, I'm not sure who, but if it's one of you I thank you for your support and belief that I'll do what I set my mind to. I'm sure my mind can overcome the inevitable red cheeks, burning lungs and achey legs this challenge will create.
A huge shout out to Stacey who will be there racing with me to make sure I drag my arse round the course, and she'll no doubt push me in her lovely style, which I suspect in her head is "come the fuck on Lini", but said in a much kinder tone with a calculating smile, (she's probably calculating how much more she can make me do before she kills me...)
53 days... Oh fuck...
I have to laugh, I wanted to call this blog something punny and amusing so I googled "fat lass running" for some inspiration. I was quite taken aback by some of the images that came up! Clearly I am not the first fat lass to ever don trainers and do a bit of jogging, and it's great to see that so many other women have taken up a challenge to get outdoors and achieve something.
The choice to run a 5km race is part of my 12 Challenges for 2016, and to raise money for a charity whilst improving my fitness, and helping achieve my other goals is something I am keen to do.
There are lots of inspirational meme's and quotes about running, and the #thisgirlcan pages are full of tips and motivation, so if you see me huffing and puffing my way round the streets of Hemel and beyond in the next few weeks it'll explain what I'm doing anyway. Though I think my neighbours are used to seeing me out in my black and pink trainers stomping the km's in for my 500km challenge.
I make no apology for being a fat lass, that's my "curse to bear". I did enjoy hearing a recent conversation where someone said, "she's got a pretty face, but she's not my type". I would reiterate that any decision or choice to lose weight comes from my personal drive, not in response to any comments or situations like that. #prettyforafatlass
I try not to think about the white van men who think it's appropriate to beep or holler at those of who are not natural athletes as we pound the pavement on our personal journeys. I could understand if they were beeping me because I was sitting on my sofa eating Peanut Butter Cup Ben and Jerrys and watching reality TV! A friend say maybe they're just beeps of encouragement to keep going and not give in, but I suspect people are not always that kind.
My Pretty Muddy Race for Life is on the 3rd September, a mere 53 days away, which sounds a lot, but in reality is nothing. The most I've managed to "run" consecutively for at the moment is 1km of the 5km and I haven't even advertised my fundraising page (shameless plug coming up) so I'm going to include the link here and hope that maybe just a few of my lovely readers will support me in achieving my goal, and in raising some money for research into the shitty disease that robs so many of us of the people we love.
https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/liniforrest
I have had my first sponsor, I'm not sure who, but if it's one of you I thank you for your support and belief that I'll do what I set my mind to. I'm sure my mind can overcome the inevitable red cheeks, burning lungs and achey legs this challenge will create.
A huge shout out to Stacey who will be there racing with me to make sure I drag my arse round the course, and she'll no doubt push me in her lovely style, which I suspect in her head is "come the fuck on Lini", but said in a much kinder tone with a calculating smile, (she's probably calculating how much more she can make me do before she kills me...)
53 days... Oh fuck...
Thursday 7 July 2016
Love, laughter and some LPGs...
Wednesday 6th July 2016
"The distance is nothing when one has a motive.”- Jane Austen - Pride and Prejudice
I find myself in a really happy positive place as I sit here and tap away at the keyboard tonight. It's strange as I just returned from the north yesterday, and there is usually something of a deflated feeling for a few days after that, especially as I'm looking at a run of almost 8 weeks before my next jaunt in Yorkshire. But this time, even though August Bank Jollyday feels so far away I feel happy, like good things are happening here, or maybe I'm just excited by the prospect of not having to pack anything into a suitcase for 8 weeks!!
"The distance is nothing when one has a motive.”- Jane Austen - Pride and Prejudice
I find myself in a really happy positive place as I sit here and tap away at the keyboard tonight. It's strange as I just returned from the north yesterday, and there is usually something of a deflated feeling for a few days after that, especially as I'm looking at a run of almost 8 weeks before my next jaunt in Yorkshire. But this time, even though August Bank Jollyday feels so far away I feel happy, like good things are happening here, or maybe I'm just excited by the prospect of not having to pack anything into a suitcase for 8 weeks!!
So the Mumma turned the big 60 on Sunday, whoop free prescriptions as she said! The Mumma booked a beautiful cottage in the Dales in a stunning place called Hawes, and the family "Townend-Idle-Forrest(Snelson)" gathered to celebrate together. It was a long drive north in the baking sunshine in my dented Astra which desperately needs its AC charging, but I was in a very good mood so the miles melted away. I had my pink bon bons for company, a thoughtful little gift for my helluva drive! There was a slight diversion on the A1 where my sat nav thought I could turn left into a grass bank, followed by some roads through and beyond Catterick of all places, and I was soon in countryside that made my heart leap and my phone lose signal! If you haven't been to the Yorkshire Dales, just go. Honestly just GO! Let it soothe your soul. Take nothing but photos and leave nothing but footprints...
What followed was a weekend of love, laughter and some LPGs (large Pinot Grigio). Living so far away, and visiting mostly on weekends I don't get to spend long periods of time with my family, so to just sit back and relax together was so special. I miss the Mummas laugh, and this weekend, what with "Sues reviews" and a Ravensthorpe style 2 verse happy birthday song from Eve (that I'm not allowed to put on Facebook) I have heard it so much it warmed my heart. We even managed to cross oceans and skype "the rellies" in Australia! Uncle Karl looks more like Grandad did every day! But shush don't tell him! There are so many memories that I will take away from the weekend, so many cuddles and tickles and crazy moments from my nephews that I'm quite sustained for my 8 week absence. Oh and I won at Cluedo! Poor Mrs White in the Ballroom, I knew dancing would be the death of her!
I won't pretend that there weren't a few moments where I felt like I was missing something, when you've had someone by your side for ten years there is an obvious gap at this sort of gathering, and when my 3 year old nephew asked where "Uncle Beard" was, there was a momentary sting in the old eyeballs, but it was quickly moved on from, and he's 3, how is he to understand any of it? I'd be more worried if he did, and I certainly wouldn't want him to waste any time thinking about it!
I'd wanted to go get a walk on the Saturday night, have some head space, so when I announced I was going out, my 8 year old nephew Harry asked if he could come too, which then prompted little Tommy to want to come as well. I had a choice, I could disappoint two smiling faces and be alone with my thoughts, or I could embrace the fact that these lovely little cheeky chimps wanted to spend time with me! So off we set as a happy little trio and Tommy made it about 500 metres before he wanted to be carried! Bless, spending my time being bossed about by a 3 year old made me laugh so much!
So I took away memories and photos that I will cherish, and will keep me going until the next occassion when we can all spend time together as a family. I am reminded of a quote that I had on my wall when I first moved to London:-
"You can kiss your family and friends good-bye, and put miles between you, but at the same time you carry them with you in your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not just live in a world but a world lives in you." - Frederick Buechner
Well wasn't Frederick Buechner just a know-it-all!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)