Archive for August, 2010

Haiku of the Day: 31 August 2010

ah, naive princess / twitter is not like high school / looks mean shit on here.

Coeliyuck

It’s 4:40am and I have been up all night. Not a terribly uncommon occurrence for me, but still, I was tired and hoped to go to bed around 2. The thing is, I actually can’t, because I am doubled over in pain every 5 minutes, gasping for air, while my small intestine spasms and seizes in response to accidental exposure to gluten.

It sucks balls. Like, really, really sucks balls.

The thing that upsets me is that I am pretty vigilant about these things. I am careful about cross-contamination, careful about what I eat… because I can’t afford to be unwell. But every so often, BAM! and I am down.

Jason was going out so I ordered pizza from Dominoes. They’ve exposed me to gluten before – the last time we ordered in fact – and I put it down to a one-off. There have been some odd reactions before, but because I had wine with it, I assumed that was the cause.

So, I ordered pizza for the kids. I had half a slice (I have no appetite) and that was it.

I haven’t eaten today, there is absolutely no other possible source.

And now, for the second time, the Dominos “Gluten Free” base has me in so much agony I can almost imagine dying rather than tolerate it. I came very close to having a dose of Morphine, the pain is so bad. I am going to have arthritic pain for 2 days, all because Dominos can’t seem to take gluten contamination seriously. It’s not a joke. Sure, it’s a bit of a fad thing for many, but geez… noone is going to compensate me for the 2 days I now lose because I need to be in bed, are they? But, who cares, right? It’s just a little dietary thing anyway… I can just go back to eating wheat next week if I want. Sigh.

It is now 5:20am and it has taken me 40 minutes to write this. Because it has literally been in between massive waves of excruciating pain, breathing through, and trying to distract myself and not end up on the floor. It’s just not good enough. It’s one thing to make a mistake, but it’s an ongoing problem. I know where I won’t be eating again… even if it is only half a slice.

Scary times, new frontiers, and WTH

A few weeks ago, I told my husband that I wasn’t happy and wanted to go our separate ways. I have threatened this before, usually during an argument, but… this time, I knew it was different, because it was calm. No fights, no events, nothing…. just… it has been a cumulative thing over a period of about 3 years, where I have come out the other side, suddenly realising that I am different. OK, probably not different, but, just, braver about speaking out. It is hard, writing about this stuff publicly, knowing that I live SO publicly in so many ways… but when it comes to the crunch, I am actually fairly private.

Initiating a separation is harder when the person you are married to has done nothing wrong. Well, nothing deliberate. Because the thoughts are not of getting out of a toxic situation, or an abusive one, or even wanting to be with someone else, but with having to explain to people that it’s just not right for me anymore. Because no matter how I look at it, on the outside it just looks selfish. I feel selfish and mean, and it brings up a lot of issues about my mother and her moving on to another man and ignoring her children… all sorts of things. But, at the same time, I didn’t choose to be married to someone who sits on the spectrum, and if I had have been aware, I probably would have ended it. People keep on asking “what happened?” and offering condolences, etc… but… I feel…. flat. They say that the initiator of a separation often moves through the grieving process prior to making the final decision, and I think that that is what has happened here. My marriage was in trouble from the beginning, and propped up by various events, dramas, the job of raising children, we never had the chance to actually evaluate our relationship.

And because it’s not his fault, and he is a good person, and I genuinely like him, but we just have a completely different outlook on everything… and I feel stifled. Like I can’t even have my own thoughts and feelings anymore without needing to run them through a filter (that will inevitably put it down, or find something wrong with them)… and… I have realised that I am actually pretty special. And I don’t mean that in an arrogant way… but… that… I am really smart. I have BIG ideas and see the world very differently to most people. And I used to think this was a problem with me fitting in and that it was actually me. But, I guess part of growing up, is realising that your ‘weaknesses’ are often only in the context of what other people expect you to be.

  • I am not domestic.
  • I am not an… attentive… partner.
  • I am in my own head.
  • I am a dreamer.
  • I am selfish.
  • I am neurotic.
  • I need to be reassured. CONSTANTLY. Incessantly.
  • I expect full attention with my shit, and don’t listen if I am not interested in yours.

That’s been my whole identity for most of the marriage. Feeling like I need to be less of a dreamer, less of a brainiac, less selfish, less neurotic. Some of those are issues, like, me thinking the world revolves around me, sure, but it wasn’t my strengths, which are many, but about focusing on my weaknesses, and, feeling generally crap about myself all the time because I could not fit into the “wife and mother, part time careerist” model. It was the expected role… my search for meaning being treated as laziness, flakiness and instability, rather than as adventurous, seeking and positive. My marriage, simply, makes me feel bad about myself. Every day. Because the communication difficulties with someone literal or semantic, when you are into exaggeration and hyperbole, erodes you over time. Someone who likes adventure and impulses and enjoys just laying on the beach on a school night… is not compatible with someone who is not only worried about it being a school night, but will go ahead and remind you how right they were when you are tired the next day. A person who doesn’t value money, or mortgages, with someone who love routine and security…. well… it’s just not a good mix. I feel emotionally abused, even if it is not the case – and he does too.

And it sounds like I am slagging him off even when I am writing it… but I am not. It’s just a major, philosophical disconnect, couple with a fundamental incompatibility… that…makes both of us bring out the worst in each other. And I am by no means saying that I am doing Jason a favour by initiating the separation, because that would be so arrogant… but I honestly think that he doesn’t know how he deserves better than that. We BOTH do. And it’s not a matter of seeking counselling, or whatever, we have done all of that. I am now just realising that there is another alternative… which is rather than suffering in quiet, simmering resentment and miscommunication, DAILY, we separate and try to salvage a friendship while we can.

Our friends tell us we belong together, it’s all just so much external pressure. Internally, I feel we should not have gotten married in the first place. And I think that when something so fundamental is incompatible, it’s hard to come back from. I always had the view, even if it is naive, that you should have them ‘get’ you. Like, really get where you are coming from. They don’t have to agree – that would be dull – but to truly understand how each other ticks. And I haven’t felt that way in this relationship. Because of the pressures of needing to have children fairly young, low confidence in my ability to truly… attract someone without ulterior motives… I settled into the relationship that felt comfortable. Because it is comfortable. We are friends. But, we don’t have a marriage.

And it sounds cruel. It sounds like I am leaving him, taking him away from his children because I want to go and find someone else. That’s not it at all. I want to find out who *I* am. Because I have never known. I know that I am clever, and funny, and flawed in a million ways, but everything I have ever done has been in reference to either survival, or in reference to other people. It sounds like the lamest reason ever to end a marriage. But, truth be told, I would prefer to be afraid and lonely and tired… than to live another day in a relationship where both of us resent each other equally. I think Jason sees things my way too and I think that he agrees – it’s hard to tell with him how he’s feeling… but… I think we were limping. In a huge rut. And it really just took someone to actually say it loud and mean it.

So while you might be shocked to hear the news, or might not understand… remember that it’s internal. It’s how I feel. And I feel pretty shit because of it. But, I also don’t want to be 40, 50 and 60, having the same ridiculous conversations because noone had the balls to say that it was an unhealthy relationship.

We may figure it out in the end… and of course that would be great… for everyone else. But, you know, even if I end up being the bad guy in all of this, ultimately all I am answerable to is myself and my children. And they deserve a positive environment as much as I do.

I hope this gives some insight.

Haiku of the Day 28-8-2010

Haiku of the Day: Spamming of Twitter / is a really fun pasttime / bringing epic luls.

My last will and testament

This started on Twitter and it made me laugh and I wanted to keep it :)

  1. I want a decoupage tombstone.
  2. @jasonjordan will MC my funeral in a Gimp Suit
  3. My funeral song shall be “Shaddup Your Face”
  4. My children shall be forced to live with their grandparents muahahahahahahahahaha
  5. The food at my funeral shall be an assortment of ball-shaped foods.
  6. My ashes shall be scattered #onyourface
  7. @sebsharp can have my sex toys
  8. I bequeath all of my debt to the animal shelter.
  9. I offer to donate my body to science, ONLY if they make a midget lift me onto the table. On his own.
  10. @sebsharp can have all of my sex toys, with the exception of the 13″ stainless steel one, who I bequeath to @shelly1912
  11. Scrap the ashes. I shall be stuffed and put on a seat at @Mooba as a deterrent for Exomod spies.
  12. My children are required to point toward the Apple store at hourly intervals and salute.
  13. I would like my bum to me made into a nice lamp.
  14. If my death is suspicious, I consent to an autopsy, limited ONLY to left ring finger.
  15. If you memorialise my Facebook account, clean my fish tank & harvest my crops whilst you are there, thanks.
  16. If you sleep with my ex, beware, he’s crap in the sack. Hence the toys.
  17. The invitations for my funeral shall cost no more than $1.99 & need to have bedazzling
  18. You shall, as a community, commit to tweeting no less than once every 23 seconds in my honour.
  19. If you find… the thing… in the… thing… you know what to do :)
  20. @jaso32 remember to put the bins out.
  21. If I could at all come back as a vampire, when I die tonight, please let me be a GOOD vampire, not a shit Twilight one.
  22. If I manage to communicate with you after I am gone, cover your ears for it shall be Dexter spoilers.
  23. If I do actually die, which is a certainty, I nominate @mrsisterchris to tearfully (vomitly) read out this list.