Let me lament for a moment ....

On how I loved her.

I loved the way she said randonly " I love the smell of pussy" when we were in the car driving back from a weekend away one time.

I love the way her face looked when it lit up - so many times - when a sting ray flew over her head at the aqaurium, when the kids made her laugh, when I said something stupid only she would understand.

Oh, how I loved her.

When she touched me. Her fngers had a direct connection to my soul.

Her hoody wrapped around her head.

Her doing a school project, the joy she found in it.

Her, after a few, giggling.

Her, reaching for me in the night.

Her arms around me, cupping my breast.

Her hand between my legs, fucking me while I watched her.

Her.

Her.

Her.

Her who got into my soul like no other.

Her.

There's no mirrors in cupboards, her who saw beyond my external appearance, her who loved me in spite of it.

Holding Chaney down to get his stitches.

Getting lost in the freakin' maze and me (trying) to fuck her with the strap on.

NEW

YEARS

EVE.

Cooking.

Me being so mad at her that I want to kill her and her saying "It's OK, it's alright".

Me singing drunkenly and her thinking I'm such a wicked singer.

HER

OMG HER.

My heart, my head, my cunt. Engaged, rearranged, never the same.

Does she know what part she played in bringing me to me?

I doubt she ever will.

Those nights. "So what brings a girl like you to a place like this?" "Got a light?" "Do you came here often?" "I'm here, I'm fucking queer, GET USED TO IT".

I've never been so free, so safe, so me.

I'm not gonna talk about the flip side now 'cos I don't fucking feel like it. I want to REJOICE in the love we had, I miss it so much, already.

"You have the charisma of a hooker"

I miss you, I love you, I will NEVER get over you.

Your mouth on my mouth, taking me places.... showing me the way.

Me riding you, fucking you, showing you who I am.

Why isn't this enough? This kaleidescope of memories, this tapestry of feeling, this montage of moments?

This is a celebration of the good times, a celebration of the unboundless love.

Your fingers in my hair, me pouring you a shot, filling the fucking pool, barbeques, sausages, chops, the look in your eyes that said forever.

I need you to see me, baby - can you see me? The tears in my eyes that will be there forever?

The big one, the pink one, the speculum; all of this was for you. The collar, the lead, the whip, the harness, the beads, all for you.

Do you weep for me, little one? Do you see me in your minds eye before you sleep?

Can you feel me?

Can you feel my soul as it wanders night after night; looking, searching for a place to rest? Do you understand how close we came?

Do you?

Do you know, do you understand how my fingers reach for you but you're already gone?
Can you feel the pounding of my heart when you're so far away?
Do you understand I'm going under?
Do you get that I needed you?

So many mistakes, so much anger. I'm sorry this is how it was.

Your fingers holding mine under that threadbare caravan blanket; I can still feel it. I can still hear you snoring.

You think I don't feel, you think I'm robotic. I thought you knew who I was. the pain that sears my insides; I can feel my organs colliding. They have eaten my feet. they have eaten my tongue. I canot walk, I cannot talk. I am consumed.

They carry me.

I don't like it, I can feel my insides tearing, bleeding. My mind a tangled mess of emotions I know you can't understand. I'm floating, I'm in a place you've never been. It's scary to me. I'M FRIGHTENED.

You eating KFC, you making my drinks, you never stirred them but I still liked them. You never turn the taps off properly, you always leave chewed up gum all over my house I still love you.

What you don't understand is and never will is this ... I love you too much to share. Regardless of what you say, regardless of what you do, I am who I am. This is what makes my love so powerful. I know you want it.

You pissed on me. You saw inside my cunt. You saw inside my head. This is powerful stuff. It cannot be shared.

I am femme. I am Candy 2 Shoogs.

I amthe one who will see into your soul and take you places no one else could.

I am the one who will sing to you whilst looking into your eyes and mean every word, even when I'm dissing you.

I am the one who will cook you lasagne and meatballs and toasties and bacon and eggs even though you dont like it.

I am the one who will let you feel when I am ovulating.

I am a work in progess; I am shifting, I am changing. I am feeling.

I'm in trouble like only you know and I will rise above like only you know I can.

It was a secret story, you and I. Full of secrets, full of inside information, full of things no one else could know.

Feel it.

It's complicated, it's fucked up, IT FUCKING HURTS,. The sleepless nights; the restless days, the tears, the anguish the torment. All stiches in the pattern of what we made. It's precious, it's priceless, I cover myself with it when I sleep.

My mouth on your neck, pressed so hard my teeth are pressing up against my gums. I can't breathe but I don't care.
Me getting a cut under my eye from licking your pussy and you grinding your cunt into my mouth so hard that again, I can't breathe.

The man shaking his fist in the caravan park. His akubra.

Big Brother and the meals we used to cook to watch it.

Fucking Woolly at Blonde.

Julie and John next door.

Getting pissed with Jen and Kenny. You banging on and ON about how much you love Jen.

Robmacca.

For she's a jolly good lezzo and so say Anne and Jess.

Dead pidgeons in pools.

QUEST.

You have been loved.

Rereading this blog ...

I feel really angry with myself! It's all about C!!!

What about the other things I'm passionate about that I could write about??? What about sexuality? What about gender roles? What about my passion for equality for women? There's so many other things I could say and yet I bang on and on about one individual person who seems to let me down pretty regularly.

This has to change.

Here I am again - fucking Pollyanna

C is entering into a business partnership with N.

That sound you just heard was the bottom dropping out of my world or my safety net being yanked from me.

God, it hurts.

Before anyone wants to email me and tell me what a FUCKING IDIOT I am for continuing to see her - please don't - believe me I already know. I feel pretty stupid.

C. The name that stabs me and soothes me at the same time. How many times can I put myself through this? I don't handle this shit well.

My initial coping mechanism was to pour the vodka. I kept pouring it two nights running - it helped actually, I felt the pain but it was on the peripheral of y vision; I knew it was there but I couldn't really feel it.

I didn't drink last night, I decided on cigarettes solely instead. Today I have a very sore throat and an even sorer heart.

I feel wounded and I'm bleeding.

I don't think I can get past this. I'm gonna have to let her go. (yeah, right! sigh my non existant readers)

I'm starting to think I haver a serious self esteem issue; my sister and BFF think I have a problem with wanting to hurt myself which I obviously do. But not consciously - well not with C consciously I don't. The booze and the bingeing I know I do on purpose.

I just want to stop crying.

My kids have been sick all week; my ex husband is on the phone out of his mind on drugs constantly, I guess you could say I'm pretty fucking alienated and alone.

This blog is actually nad for me in a way - its fucking depressing seeing all the shit facts about me written down.

I really, really despise myself for being so dumb.
WHY oh WHY did I keep sleeping with her and slowly let my guard down.


I'm a fucking moron.

I'm not like the other Mums....

They always seem so hapy, so smiley, so on top of things.

Why can't I be like them?

Is it just the way I'm prgrammmed to function (to quite Lilly Allem) or am i soo fucked up that this is just how its supposed to be for me.

I'veneevr been particualr;y haopy in my life, I guess the closest ive ever come to it is in the earlydays of my marriage, and superceeding that (inevery way) my early days with claire.

Of course, my children surpass every thing. Without them, i wouldn't be here. no doubt.

I find myself at times, bordering on crazy. i can see this within myself and recognise it but it doestne make it any easier to live with. I drove today to buy the kids easter egs and i had to pull the car over to the side of the road so i wouldnt swerve into tohe oncoming. i bet the other mums dont feel like this.

my onlyoytlet is sex.

dirty, hardcore, xxx rated sex.

and secind life.

wtf i worng with me.

oh eah and booze.

im bulimis, except that i fdont always throw up - i eat and i eat and i eat. by rights i should be obese, but for some reason the ody can tak e it and snaps back everyday, still lookingfuckable - gauging the responses it earns me everytime i walk out of my house 0 which isnt often - i find it frigthening to bein public - too many eyes looking my way. what are they looking at??? i can understandit if the hair and makeup is in place, id look too - but whatabout when im not waerint the mask? why then?

what is it that makes ppl look at me? can they smell the despaor?

i had a metdoen today at my mums place, normally a place of refuge, but today for some reason ipanicjd and had toget home - racing out of the plav like a bat out of hell and offending all inthe process.

what the fuck is eron with me.

im starting to thing i might be biolar? im starting t think i need serios medficatrion. but how can i front up to some random doctor and tell him/her what is really going o with me. it goes against evrything isatdn for, keep everything to myself at all costs.

which i am aware is stupid, i am aware its not helping me - but where do i pul the fucking courage from to tell someone how it really is?????

I am the walking wounded.

I am the person with no skin, no protection to shield a heart which is but a gaping, bleeding wound.



I feel alien. My eyes seek solace when I am out walking, looking for something I can feel some kind of affinity with.



I feel an unnatural amount of relief if someone says something I can relate to. I hold onto it and go over it at night in my bed before I sleep.



Yet there is joy in sorrow. I feel. At least I feel.



This is who I am. I don't think I am programmed to be happy.



Yet I have moments of joy and sanctity. My children I thank for these - they keep me breathing.



Some days I want to die - I fantasise about driving my car off the road. Today I smoked a cigarette crouched next to my car so the neighbour wouldnt try to engage me in any kind of conversation - i thought if he looked at me he would know how fucked up i really am - and i stared at the one of the tires on my car and i thought about what my head would look like squashed underneath it.



I feel lost and so, so alone.



My body hurts. My ears hurt, the sound of the television is making me feel crazy. There is never silence in this house, always screaming, always pulling at me.

Oh God, when will the pain stop

Just when I think C can't hurt me any more - she does. Via Facebook.

Facebook is both a blessing and a curse. Whilst it enables us to stay abreast of what our nearest and dearest are doing and communicate with them in an instant - it can also give us a glimpse into peoples lives that we don't necessarily want to see.

I checked my best friends Facebook page today so that I could post a message thanking her for the lovely Christmas evening we spent together. Whilst on her page, I noticed in her "friends list", Cs Sister in Law. This girl was a fixture in my life and the boys life for 3 years, along with her partner, Cs brother.

We were quite the little family unit for a long time - sharing many a weekend together cooking, eating, drinking and playing with the boys. Barbeques were had, day trips were taken, stories were shared and quite a bond was formed. Drunken evenings turned into lazy Sunday mornings where we all lazed about playing cards or board games. I adore them.

Anyway, thought I'd have a click on her page to see how she's doing - maybe send her a message to say hello. First thing that jumped out at me was a Photo Album she'd added called Ski Trip.

I wish I hadn't opened it.

The last thing I feel like seeing today is photos of C and N skiing together. Oh with N's token boyfriend tagging along.

This is almost indescribable but those images burned into my memory and caused a physical response in my body. You know that feeling where your stomach just drops. That one.

It shouldn't even matter to me, those photos were taken after we had broken up. It's just the thought that C is still with this person. The person she shares a relationship with that has caused me so much pain and made me feel like I was always "Girlfriend Number 2" so to speak. Just seeing their smiling faces in their matching outfits (ugh) compounds my belief that it is actually a fact that those two are on a life journey together and will never be divided.

I'm surprised at the hurt and pain it's bought to the surface with me. I thought I'd come much farther than this and accepted things for how they really are. I guess I have to admit to harbouring a flame in my heart for this woman, however stupid that is. I didn't realise it was burning so brightly, I thought it had dimmed to but a flicker. I was wrong.

Just knowing she is with this family group - which once I held to my heart as my own - with N - just kills me inside. It feels like she was only ever on loan to me, never completely mine as N was always there to drag her back to what they shared/share. It's like something stuck in my chest that I can't get out - it sticks there heavy and ominous and won't allow my mind to disengage from the thought of the two of them together.

It sickens me - angers me to the extreme, that this could have been MY family. If only she would have stepped up to the plate and given me the chance. I fucking tried so hard with that girl. It was all in vain. I know she is not ready to cut the apron strings and for some reason that I will never accept or define, N plays a role in her life that she will never stop clinging to.

You know, I begged her to listen to my feelings on this issue when we were together. I remember one evening when I got so drunk that I called her at 3am and said "Baby, this is eating me alive". Her response, "You're being ridiculous". I tried to approach her from every angle, I gave her scenarios, I broke it down in terms a child could understand, I even drew fucking diagrams. It all fell on deaf ears.

She allegedly "understands" now what she did and why it was wrong to behave in the manner she did. Pretty hollow isn't it, when they're sharing a fucking ski trip together. Cosy times.

I have to get this out, I have to let this writing flow - I cannot let this be a reason to drink today. I am almost 2 weeks sober. I cannot let her do this to me again.

I have to learn to put C in the right place in my life - the past. I'm starting to think I'm subconsciously sabotaging myself from moving forward. Other women are interested in me yet I look for the smallest reason to not take it further. I guess I'm not ready, there's obviously more grieving to do. More things I have to learn how to accept. They are bitter pills to swallow.

I still dream of her every night. I guess my dreaming mind is making sense of what has happened in ways I cannot achieve in a waking state.

I howled this morning after I saw those pics - gut wrenching, hot tears, my throat in knots, head in my hands, weeping from a primal place of fear and hurt. Will I *ever* find someone who can love me, truly? Or is this it? This constant disappointment and pain? I'm tired. I'm weary. I crave respite.

The timing couldn't be worse, I had an awful day yesterday with the Ex Husband placing demands on me re: my eldest child. Expecting to have him stay at his drug den of a house without me and my youngest son. The thought fills me with dread. I'm painfully aware of what goes on in that house and it's not scenarios I want my son to be privy to. My maternal instincts cry out to protect him yet at the same time I have no say over the Ex's legal rights to see him.

His Russian nature makes it impossible for me to reason with him or be up front, I have to pussy foot around and sugar coat everything trying to keep the boat from rocking, so that I can protect the children. Oh god, it is so hard - makes my heart feel so heavy with the burden of it. How I long for freedom. It's in vain though as it's just not going to come. This is a part of my life I have to deal with for at least the next 15 years - so why fight it. I should just suck it up, right.

Having said that, I do find it hard not to let it get on top of me from time to time. Just need to get this overnight visit over and done with so I can breathe again.

I feel so ripped off. I know I'm a loving, giving, loyal partner. So why does this shit happen to me? To quote my 3 year old "IT'S NOT FAAAIIIIRRRR". and whilst at age 35 I should know better than to revert to self pity and wallow in it, I have to admit it's exactly how I feel today.

My children have been screaming at each other all morning, the screams penetrating my brain and making me feel like I've lost my mind; fighting and goading one another - symptomatic of the school holidays I guess - add this to the tension of the photos fresh in my mind, the worry over my son's overnight stay with an irresponsible imbecile next week and my general withdrawl from alcohol and you are left with a cocktail of despair.

I'm so sick of feeling sad. I'm so sick of feeling down. I wanna be one of those shiny, happy people that always seem to cope with whatever life throws their way. I know if I want that I have to work on it, work on being more positive, work on seeing the silver lining. I don't want to today, I can't today. I just don't have it in me.

I think this blog has saved me from opening the vodka today. For this I am grateful. I know it won't save me the pain - just postpone it for another day.

So bring it on Motherfuckers. I'm strong, although I feel so weak inside right now and like I wanna give up. I know that's not an option. I refuse to let them beat me.

It's such a lonely battle, makes me feel so small and alienated. I crave a partner yet at the same time I know I'm not ready for what that entails. I feel sentimental about the good parts of my relationship with Claire (and there were many) and anxious to contact her for comfort and support but I know I can never go back. I'm in limbo, really. Not healed enough to move on but still clinging to C in ways I shouldn't.

Depression snapping at my heels

This past week has been completely crap.

Don't get me wrong, I've had moments of unadulterated joy - my kids save me like that.

My ex husband however is the bane of my life and Iam struggling with his constant presence in our lives.

I am so envious of other women who leave their husbands and never have to see them again. I'm burdened with mine once a week and that doesen't include his almost daily phonecalls. Will I ever have my own life? Free of his insane influence and arrogance?

I guess it wouldn't be so hard to bear if he was a regular, decent kind of guy. He's far from that, though. He's not the kind of person I would have in my life at all if it wasn't for my legal obligations to him.

He is untrustworthy, unreliable, self absorbed, selfish, short tempered and I can't stand him. Having him in my home, watching him touch my things and silently judge me makes my skin crawl. I dread his visits and the aftermath of them quite often makes me physically ill.

His most recent visit on Sunday was one of the worst I have experienced with him.

His Russian mentality of raising our boys to be little soldiers who don't have tantrums, don't cry and basically just do whatever the fuck he wants them to do at that very second is totally unrealistic and often, in my opinion, cruel.

When he is here, I feel beyond stressed and on edge - listening to every word the kids say - hoping they don't say something he'll jump on, just waiting for him to open his stupid mouth and tell me how he's gonna take the boys away from me.

Generally, I've learnt to live with his presence and accept it as part of my life I cannot change. This past week though I've found the thought of him infringing on my life indefinately almost too much to bear.

My depression is lapping at my heels. I can feel it.

I cannot afford to let it get me again. I've come too far and I can't succumb. But oh, it is so dammed hard. I feel like my life is Groundhog Day. Same shit, different day.

It's a struggle every morning to drag myself out of bed and take my eldest to school. Thank Goodness we are in the last week of the year - I don't think I am capable of plodding on like this for much longer.

All I wanna do is lie on the couch and watch 6 Feet Under - my latest obsession - and for everyone to just leave me alone. I crave sleep. I know these are classic signs of depression, it's not lost on me - I'm aware of what's going on.

I miss C. Even though she has hurt me, I crave the kindness she gives me and the love she brings to my table. I feel so utterly, utterly alone. Here in the house, just me and the kids. The responsibility is overwhelming to me. I try my hardest every day of my life yet every night I go to bed feeling that I have failed.

I feel so confused on where I actually stand in it all. I'm working hard on processing the break down of my relationship with C and how I feel about it. Why do I have a different opinion every day? I can't seem to get a grasp on what it really is I want.

I'm more concise about what I don't want. That's easy for me to carve in stone. What's wrong with me? I feel so fucking negative about everything. My well's run dry, I'm tired and I'm burnt out. I have no reserves to draw on.