Cloaked Gifts

So I get a letter this week… it is the blathering ramblings of “he who must not be named” typing out all the facts of his financial unmanageability, listing how he cannot pay for anything and his parents are paying for everything etc… how his client may not be honest and may not be sending the money he has been waiting for  for months (since August) nothing, truly, has changed with him and he could in all honesty not be bothered with his children nor his parents and those are the people he claims he loves.

I faced my white hot anger for about a day – spewing fire… and I think I should just accept that this will make me angry no matter how hard I work on it, not being reactive to it.  I just think… “you FUCKING LOSER” !  I barred myself from replying, I am not able to acknowledge such crap even with a nod, and to think I heard this exact same story for years and lived with it!!!  The ease at which he absorbs, takes, sponges off everyone around him blows my socks off. Fact is, I will never be able to change his behaviour, and I get that.

I work I earn.  I paint and sell. I make ceramics and sell.  I will do whatever it takes to keep the wheels turning. My bills are paid and my children’s bills are paid. Why is it that I can do it and not him? 

I met a father who was in my shoes later in the week and I felt everything he spoke of so close to the bone – I thought how ironic it was to see both sides of the fence in one week, and that solidified it for me. If you really want to be involved you will be, if you really want to find a way you will find a way.  Essentially we can all do what we need to and want to do – granted some journeys are harder than others, but it can be done. I am also completely convinced that you wake up as far as you choose to wake up.

Pixling schnarfs… it is what it is and this may be a gift wrapped up weirdly for all to learn from…

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I am back… after a 2 year sabatical

Geez what a ride… it’s been 2 and a bit years since I last blogged… I stopped due to life getting just crazy and I simply could not assimilate what I was living. All I can say is that after what felt like an emotional Hiroshima, I was patching up the bits and found heaps of nuts and bolts all over the show which held pieces of me together… a bit like assembling an engine that was rattled loose at every possible join on the worst possible farm road.  But I am glad to say that after the degreasing and mop up jobs and figuring out what goes where I am in one piece and dare I say… stronger than ever!

This does not mean that things are smooth sailing… (DUH, this is life and I am human) but I am strong.  I have also been divorced now for 1 Year and 9 months. I have reached a new level of understanding, taken responsibility where I needed to and am completely self-sufficient, 10 times over.

The divorce was a completely and utterly horrendous emotional blood bath which turned me inside out and made my blood run cold, curdle and boil all at the same time (I often longed for a peaceful, quaint, bland little padded room in which I could rest, filled with a thud, lifeless silence). It took a full year to run its course. I had little in the line of support physically on hand (my family lives far away from me), and when the final Decree arrived and I was in my lawyers’ office to sign this legally scribed parchment I realised how independent I had really become…. The paraphrased signatures at the bottom of each page belonged to “he who must not be named’ and his parents… Well that settled that then, I literally divorced the whole family… or them me – a momentous moment, astounding! I was not surprised and though “go figure”…all the while my lawyers’ secretary ran around the office trying to find me witnesses to sign the document to make it binding forever. I thought how apt, like in the marriage so it is when leaving.

I have decided to randomly blog about it all for only now am I really able to put this into some form of sane perspective.

To end off, I have made peace with my divorce and in hind sight I have so much gratitude it is done and I am no longer attached to one of the most unconscious beings I know… I have managed to find love again which I thought will never be possible after such trauma…

Pixling knows… good engines need care and attention.

Closing Circles

Looking back… way back when ‘he who must not be named’ and myself first met and started dating it was intense and we fell in love quickly and deeply, only the way 2 young adults can, and before I knew it we were spending a lot/all of our time together painting weekends away (we were both in art school) and going on holiday, weekends at his folks farm… etc.  We were inseparable.  He had the longest most beautiful hair and a soft, soft nature … towards me.  We were young, beautiful, ambitious and highly creative, drawing together and painting through canvases filled with our fantasies.  We drew symbols and combined art works which represented us – together, till we die.  We even went as far as to seal our love with a blood bond in a sacred, private ceremony as well as binding ourselves together with a small leather band around my finger, symbolizing our intent, to one day get a ring. (I had a few flea market specials before the real deal came around).   We just could not get enough of each other – insatiable – and being apart was the most painful thing ever – like our souls were being tortured.  We moved in together as soon as it was possible – love (which ended up becoming my second name) just had to pay the rent.  Just before we got married (about two years later), I told my father that ‘he who must not be named’ was such a beautiful person inside that it scared me.  Got the idea? I think you do.  All very dramatic, but this set the tone and back drop of my marriage, my happily ever after.

Clearly I had my rose-tinted glasses on, with the added bonus of being young, very young … and fucking stupid to say the least. Looking back, (now that I find myself in the same spot) dancing around the peripheree of our intense whirlwind love, he had an unfinished relationship floating around.  His then girlfriend of two years was still very active in his and his families lives – when we went on holiday a month after we met and the poor girl looked after the family home and I can almost guarantee you that she was blissfully unaware of my bum going with the family for a long 6 week Christmas holiday… two months later came a valentines bunch of flowers and a thick love letter from her trying to make sense of what clearly was unfinished for her, he had relationship trouble and honesty issues beyond my wildest dreams –right from the start.  Sadly this is something I only realize now, even then, he did not bother finishing off anything with respect, properly or appropriately.  When I questioned this 4 months into our relationship, he told me many things about her, dehumanizing her. He spoke of her as being poisonous and horrible and screwing him around – how he was never good enough for her – how she burnt his t-shirts she hated, and on and on.  This relationship was portrayed as so abusive he lost all his creativity and self-esteem and was not inspired at all to work the way he used to. . . OH MY Handbag!  I felt so sorry for him!!!  All this abuse he was put through in this horrid relationship!!

I was going to one up this! I was going to splint this broken little wings, I was going to heal his wounds and honor him for soldiering on in that vicious relationship, trying to make it work.  I was, hands down, completely convinced that he was the victim!  All the stage props neatly set up and in place.   In my defense… ok, maybe not… I did pick up his honesty issues through blatant, stupid lies, but how deep it really went escaped my love-sick neurological moosh, and I swallowed excuses for his lies hook by hook.  I did break up with him a couple of times, to my credit, when I figured out his lies, but (to my discredit) I fell right back into his arms after he clearly and logically explained to me why he lied (using all the stage props he could and produced some more) and swore never to put us at risk like that again.  I believed him – I wanted to, trusted him – I wanted to … I loved him, deeply – I wanted to.

Now why I am writing all this? Besides the obvious, in these last five months (since the arrival of ‘fugly’ and her ‘4 sprogs’ – and me realizing that the same thing he did to his girlfriend before me is the same thing he is doing to me and ‘ol fugly) I have purposefully excavated these memories – these events which, in the scheme of things, hardly paid attention to at the time.  Rehashing them now places a brand new light on who he is and who I am and what the personality of our relationship was.  The exact same thing has happened! I have come full circle! A bit late now, but none the less an epiphany!

My goal is to become conscious, sober and clear thinking of who I am, what I attract and to whom I am attracted, because I will not be returning down this road easily again, and karmically speaking, I want to end off my journey with this human being, totally and completely.   I do not want this human or such a horrible experience in the shape of a rock in my garden, in my next life – I want to be done with this, with him, and however long this must take, is however long it takes. Just like with his previous girlfriend he moved on fast, leaving behind a mess, he did the same to me – the mess is just a wee bit bigger and 2 other feeling beings, we created from our intensity, are left to either accept or not accept – why would he care about their feelings – he is “happy”.

I am realizing a little more every day, that what I am grieving deeply, is my hope for us and my family and a human being who is no longer ‘alive’.  He died small deaths throughout the relationship, lie by lie, in my head, and my husband, the love of my life no longer lingers on this planet – the beauty I knew or imagined I knew, is shelved somewhere in my big library of life experiences and the essence which was he was but a figment of my imagination – a dream I had for a long time. He is hardly a shadow of the man I thought he was or could be. He is no longer a shadow of the man I loved. The fantasy died. The man I now see is a complete stranger. From his beard he now no longer grows in beautiful shapes and shaves – shaved off permanently because Fugly hates facial hair… his three hairs left on the top of his head gelled up like Tin Tin … he is a walking quotation, a copy of the new people in his life – creatively dead…nothing original, his whole being gone or maybe he was like that all along and I simply removed the blinders from my eyes.

Pixling is tying up loose ends – one process at a time.

Pixling’s Zen

In my introduction on my blog I clearly stated that this is a cathartic process for me – my thoughts and facts of what I experience finding myself opening to a new world, a new life.  Anais Nin said: “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”

Blogging about this crazy time in my life will undoubtedly offend some and the risk I run in telling my story will clearly not sit right with some people – some, for obvious reasons…. I view this blog however as part of my unfurling, maby wrong, maby right, maby pointless, but it does offer me a platform to ‘scream from a mountain top’ – put the truth as I see and experience it out there – raw as it may seem at times –  I don’t want to be right or wrong because it is not about that – it is about having a voice – MY thoughts … even if it is just in cyberspace somewhere (airing out some tough stained laundry). And a real voice, by this I mean real – fuck knows there is nothing more irritating or completely idiotic to me than people that spew this supposedly ‘positive’ crap – and ‘new agey’ evangelistic love and freeking peace shite.  Seriously people! Real life???? I think not!  WTF do you feed and clothe children with? “Love and peace”? “Manifestation meditations” Blah freeking blah… no morons!  Children get hungry three times, yes three times a day and if you have a teenage son growing faster than fungus on bread in a lunchbox overnight, it is more than three times a day.  (A little rant on the side).   Look, I have nothing against having a positive attitude – but just like politics or religion it can become fanatical and it churns out brain dead, cut out magazine smiling, over happy zombies memorised into some state of a falsely drooling bliss.

I guess what I am trying to say is that in my actions and doings I try hard not to hurt people, to do the ‘right thing’, this however does not mean I never hurt anyone. I am perfectly human with perfectly human faults, but for the larger part of my life I have taken to pleasing everybody else to the max extreme, never really pleasing myself and as a matter of fact I never really pleased anyone else anyhow – and all the while the only person who was unfulfilled was me!

Pixling drools thinking and smiling….The ultimate zen lesson – acceptance and blogging 🙂

“We were never a family” – he spews

Today he who must not be named will have contact with my daughter again…. its a once a month occurrence now, and it brings up so much for me… This morning I woke up with the title of this blog hanging around my head to be made conscious.  Why this particular statement had such a profound effect on me… god only knows. I have heard a lot of “stuff” said, but this one blew my socks off.  Since the arrival of Fugly and her 4 sprogs that statement made its appearance on more than one occasion and to more than one ear. He who must not be named went as far as to utter it to his daughter – he utter many inappropriate things to her.

So I started unpacking this… how is it possible to stay in a marriage actively, enjoying everything a marriage and family brings, Easters, Christmases, sex – ‘I wanna grow old with you’, and so, on by acting? Well apparently to be that in-genuine can be done, was done – all of our years together… a lie. I also do realise that this was the ultimate betrayal – this string of words – the one thing that would sever his ties with all concerned as he knew without a doubt that family is the most important thing to me to my children, and clearly he simply solidified the fact that he is the biggest bullshitter, able to replace and substitute half of his life in the blink of an eye.  Fickle – for sure, and a deep thinking feeling human being is not one of his strong points. It all boils down to a sick self esteem. 

So many of my friends and acquiescences who have had encounters with us cannot believe the extent of hurt he would inflict… even they were bullshitted.  They stand in horror and reiterate the same old sentence to me – ‘how can he be a ‘daddy figure’ to four non blood related sprogs when he can not even honor his own 2 children…no he is mad, and you are all better off without him’.  At first I almost wanted to defend him but realised in time that the sick part inside of me, the part which stayed, saved his life twice from drug induced fits, unhappily tolerated his crap and made excuses for him for such a long time is who he is and that a leopard never changes its spots… the reoccurring themes will reoccur no matter how he clads it up, believes it is all different, because ultimately and deeply he does not know himself.  Personally looking at that statement, as bizarre as it sounds to me, and as cutting as what it is there is no denying that for him this is the truth however jaded.  That we never really cut the grade, all the struggling for nothing. That new brooms sweep clean.

Pixling spews – happy families aren’t always

P.s I read somewhere… when a man treats you well you know he was raised in the arms of a queen…. 

Ambassadors

ImageI have always been a big fan of  ‘If it does no work anymore … leave, no use hanging around for the sake of the children’ and I am essentially living by my belief.  In fact there was a time where my children were quite satisfied with the split of our family… but like most things on this god forsaken mud ball – it is also and ever changing, morphing animal.  There lies a deep longing almost an unfinished business deep inside the soul of the ambassadors of the broken marriage or failed family.  The rock from which they have learnt to launch themselves into the world is no longer there… sadly I must add to this statement that the transition into running separate households would be smoother if the separated couple were mature enough to still be the rock in their childrens’ lives – carrying only their needs and intentions in their hearts, not ideal, but a much better option than my situation and most other hostile separation or divorces.  I morn this for my children.  Both of them teenagers and trying to find stable ground within themselves and within me.

Abandonment plays the biggest roll, to my mind, in building insecure human beings. It creates deep seated fears which in turn plays out in many different ways in our lives.  I was witness to many small and large poignant abandonment moments in my childrens existence, and clearly I contributed to some.  Part of growing up? Yes maby.  I have explored the many ways in which the feeling of abandonment can occur and be exceptionally damaging, and besides the out right physical abandonment this gift arrives in many different forms and colours.   I remember my son and ‘he who must not be named’ (just before the separation) having a stand up fight where my son screamed at his father and called him an ares-hole because all he did was make promises and broke them to the point of where my son could no longer bare it. He who must not be named threatened to hit him in the heat of the moment and the fight escalated. I jumped in the middle of these two men… my only intention was to save my son from doing something he would regret… A year later the inevitable happened – the ultimate broken promise, the other woman, her 4 sprogs and then the myriad of roll on events of seeing his father spend time with these strange children, taking them to events, beaches etc which he never did with his own children plastered all over facebook. It changed my son forever. He ‘tore his collar’ at his father and months later he wants nothing more to do with him. 

Ultimately my son could no longer bear the abandonment patterning.  I am soul sad that this has happened to my prince, but a part of me rejoices at the healthy boundary setting he has managed to learn, lay down and stick to… a sign of a healthy self esteem and self preserving which will serve him well in this world. His stick in the sand of saying ‘you no longer have my permission to treat me the way you have done’ is a gift I only learnt later in my life.  

Children are the ambassadors of relationships, the direct result of them… it is my responsibility as their mother to give them something to ambassador they can be proud of.

Pixling thinks… every dog will have its day 🙂

Beatus Exsisto – Blessed be our existance

So the ‘twins’ have been born and we are now in the healing process of these magnificent tattoos for the next 10 days – a daily reminder as planned. I woke up this morning plagued again with many thoughts and it is the one thing I suppose which happens – These ever compulsive thoughts are brought on, and with more intensity, after ‘he who will not be named’ has made contact.  Contact now only happens with my daughter, the only person left who still sadly falls for his self centered manipulations, my son has chosen not to have his father in his life… So ‘he who must not be named’ calls to say he wants to have coffee with her, to discuss a list of topics, mixes in a couple of hard hitting emotional issues – then proceeds to tell her, sorry he cannot talk now he is driving and nothing is heard from him again.

At times I am still so surprised at the nature of addiction – I have learnt that addiction is a behavioral illness and has very little to do with the use of substances actually, the ‘using’ part is just a symptom of the illness, addiction itself lies hidden, deeply entrenched in behavior of the personality – hence ‘dry drunks/junkies’ – they may not be using at all anymore, but the personality defects and essentially the patterning of it are those of a using addict – business as usual.  It has become clearer over time for me to understand.  As per example given, he calls, he broaches some serious topics creating a little chaos whirlwind and emotional upset and then… true to form, disappears.  With all that said, it however does not remove the intense anger I feel towards him putting his children through all of this…. Again! What he has done to his children is unforgiveable and has changed them as people forever!  But how can I expect a person like this to have any insight to what he keeps creating?

He has found a new woman (booze bottle, joint, line of cocaine – just the packaging is different and we lovingly refer to her as ‘fugly’ – she is effing ugly from the inside out) who has four children, who don’t live with her, but live with their father – she only sees them over weekends, and when she feels like it, and then they reside at *his new home. My daughter was made to babysit them for a total of five days when she stayed with him whilst ‘fugly’ and ‘he who must not be named’ busied themselves in his bedroom upstairs.  He broke his daughters’ heart, yet has no feeling for it and expects her to carry his happiness at heart… bizarre behavior? Never in the past year did he have the time or finances to take my children away on holiday (his parents have a beautiful holiday home on the coast) yet he has all of this to his disposal now, for the new ‘double bagger’.

Pissed of? Yes. Feeling like I am dealing with the repercussions of a ‘Jeckle and Hide’? Yes. Is he unmanageable? Yes. All of it pointing to one road and one road only. Destruction. Do I want to deal with that again in the cyclical pattern I have for 20 years? Hell NO! But going through a divorce with an addict, this addict, is daunting and for now nothing more than money squandering, money which my children are in desperate need of.  Something has got to give, and I need to trust that I, we, will get through this eye of the needle – after all we have been doing it for a year and a bit, and looking back I have actually done this for 20 years on my own.

Pixling contemplates in strength… Beatus Exsisto

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