Fathers and Angels – not the usual spices…

When I started the magical process of wishing a new being to love back into my life I selfishly wished him to be without children and be without an ex-wife and without the enmeshed co-dependant family chaos I was all too used to living with for such a long time.  One could say my wish list was an impossibility to achieve. I wished a lot of things… 2 and a half pages later I had eeked out the human being I wanted to spend my life with based purely on character.  This recipe process took me a long time to complete.  It was thwart with touching wounds and scars I did not want to look at. I did not know whether I even wanted to love again or whether I would be able to offer another person a healthy or whole enough human being in return. I was also not willing to do anything to actively find this magnificence – I literally said he would need to find me. The bar was set and I was comfortable assuming this person did not exist.

To cut a long story short he ended up being someone I knew…. From childhood through to my teenage years.  He was not one of the ‘featuring crowd’ thugs – he was a strong quiet soul, just always there whilst I was too busy being a metal head goth being too invested in ‘cool’ to really notice. With that said, he did leave a lasting impression – he was one of the kindest people I had ever had the honour of meeting.  Kindness makes me weep… it’s just too beautiful for my soul to contain.

We have currently been together for just over a year and a half and most of the time I was waiting for his demon to arrive… turned out it was there all along and after much contemplation I came to the epiphany that this man is just human, like all us mortals. I realised I did not want to live with a “white washed jesus” – I wanted a human being.  He however was still the kindest being, demon and all, as the days weeks and months elapsed.

I read something beautiful today on the book of face – it was a posting about fathers.  The gist of it was to the effect that fathers are the men who care, not necessarily the bio dads… the commentary seemed sadly to trend mostly towards the men which chose to do this father thing i.e. not the bio dads. It hit me that the man in my life has enveloped me and my children to this extent and he is one of those men who choose to be here! “He who must not be named” has fucked up so holy with his children and has so many conditions set up around them and how they, his blood children must act and accept what he dishes and that they need to place his happiness above all else punishing them severely if they choose different by means of deprivation of medical care,  money and generally ignoring their needs on all levels – yet here is this gift of a human angel who accepts my children like his own and accepts them for who they are – gives all that he is able including the respect we were all so deprived of for so long – he does all this knowing he is not their father and never will be.

I sit in such gratitude of being able to witness this and be a part of it. To acknowledge that there are men in this world who step up to the plate and do it without the ‘bio dad’ recognition demands. He loves me, he loves my children and my wish list came true on levels I was not able to perceive at the time.

Pixling thinks… conjuring this magical being has taught me there are some good men out there.


Winds of Change

Change means doing things differently… Einstein said “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result”. I confess I change slowly and with an incredible amount of resistance… I only discovered this small gigantic flip of the switch when I started really moving deeply into the dark side of my neuron connections. I had to find myself becoming an emotional brain surgeon. It did not sit well with me I can assure you. Anarchy is where I find my thrills.

My usual line of business – which I am exceptionally good at, is trying to change other people and circumstances. It’s how I used to control life (trauma) around me, but that didn’t work out too well for me in the long run – accepting life on life’s terms is a large bitter pill which I did not want to partake of in a sacrament-like ritual, however when one is crawling of pain on your belly what choices are left?

Since I have applied the ”change” I have been sorely tested on whether it has actually shifted even a small iota of my thinking and acting by a couple of momentous events this year, so far. On mother’s day this year my very ex mother in-law (with her signature on my divorce papers to prove it) texted me to request nothing else but change – I had to change the mind of my son by using my influence as his mother, that I needed to change the trauma and hurt we have lived and so on. I was astounded by how selfish the demands for change were, that by no means was there an ounce of acknowledgement for what we had been through… it was minimised and wiped clean off the table and all that was lying on the table was her and ‘he who must not be named’ bleeding hearts. I was filled with anger and self-justification and wanted to defend our raw life lived without food at times and ask where the fuck were they… I desperately wanted to retaliate!

In that moment had to decide whether I would bite. This was the moment of change… My Lady Gandalf’s words came screaming into my muscle fibres… STOP!!!! Observe, and Steer (very fucking carefully). I stepped onto the rocks which had cut me to shreds before – I replied after a couple of minutes of breathing, that I am no longer in the business of changing anyone or anything but myself, that I cannot control or engage again in such emotional chaos that for my emotional sobriety I am not able to fill her demands. The onslaught did not stop there (it only does in the movies…) she proceeded to say that my recovery is to the detriment of her family and my children… The manipulation were like neon labels attached to her words. I held my ground, my boundaries with conviction and I was not mean or nasty in doing so – just strong.

Looking back I recognise her desperateness and I have compassion for it as I was filled with that exact desperateness not so long ago – I had to change that, I had to form a different path in my brain and heart to change my behaviour.  Addiction is largely a behavioural disease that envelopes families, everyone eventually gets some form of it, like the flu. I did not expect her to thank me for being such a well behaved bunny and for keeping firstly myself safe and by default everyone else safe, including her. She thinks I don’t understand when in fact I do… I just disagree now, and I choose to change bad chaotic behaviour which causes upset and drama.

Pixling schnarfs… change won’t bring praise but will bring results, just a thought.

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.