Marking Time


Sitting in my small yet exquisite home looking out over a lead grey sea I am morphed back to when I first discovered this little treasure box.  The separation happened almost overnight it felt.  I was tired of this eroding relationship embroiled in addiction and constant fighting, me working like a dog whilst ‘he who must not be named’ was ‘building up his business’ earning minimal if anything at all (*his parents supplemented his non – earnings as much as they could for years)  and the last straw, our eviction – rent was not being paid (my end of the bargain was looking after the running of the home inside financially or as far as my salary could stretch whilst ‘he who must not be named’ had to pay the rent).  Long story short, my son and I had nowhere to go whilst *he moved straight into the comfort of his parents very large home – financially supported entirely. We had not been able to find a home, so my son and myself moved into a lovely room with two retired angels.

My son and I needed a home, and fast, yet both of us were sad and weary with not much energy to spare for house hunting. One last look in the ads and by some gift from the Goddess I discovered ‘Hobbitville Cottage’ overlooking the sea, high on a mountain… this felt like home. A month later we moved in. Looking back I need to pay homage today to the past year. I was filled with complete fear every minute of every day not knowing whether I was going to be able to pull this off, to provide (solely) for my son and myself (I must add in here that I have a daughter too, but due to circumstances, which will fill another blog, she stayed with ‘he who must not be named’ and his parents – I spent this time grieving my daughter deeply). Some months I received no financial help from ‘he who must not be named’ and some months the equivalent to a bag of groceries… how I made it… boggles my heavy laden noodle, I have no cooking clue, but I did!

I spent some weekends curled up in bed not being able to sleep yet not having the ability to move either. Buying milk at the local store felt like building a house. I spent the first half of the past year blacking out with the added bonus of developing a stutter, but with the help of an awesome therapist I got through that too.  My teenage son was my constant, my guardian angel (the guilt of it at times consumed me) and me his – we endured and survived a lot together and in the here and now we are truly stronger and better people for it.

This morning ‘BB’ messages came beeping in from the closest people in my world aware that today is the day we will be marking this time forever in celebration – twin tattoos which will forever remind us we did it and that looking ahead anything can be over come!

Pixling thinks…. “Blessed be…Fuck yeah! We made it!”.

* for future reference… my estranged spouse is refered to ‘he who must not be named’.


2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. shakurashanga
    Apr 28, 2012 @ 10:17:37

    Your story saddens me so when I read about your pain and your loneliness and the devastation of being left out in the cold like that. You pulled yourself and your son through a very tough time and should be very proud of yourself! The fight is not over and it will take a while but you are not alone in it and it is not an easy one, it never is! You just hang in there with the love and support of people who care for you – lean on that strength in the times when you need it.


  2. diddy
    Apr 28, 2012 @ 14:53:55

    You are a brave and strong soul who laughs evilly in the face of adversity. Cannot wait to see your tattoo !



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