Review Of The Year

I thought it might be useful to take a look back over 2009 so that I can take stock of what sort of year it has been for me.

Well, I'm still blogging which to be honest I thought I would have given up long ago - a fad to have a go at and give up pretty quickly. But no, I'm still here and in August it was a year in Blogworld which means I'll soon have been at it for a full eighteen months. I suspect I'll still be here next year too as it has become part of my life. Part of what I do. Here I can write honestly and say what I really feel without fear of judgement from any one who knows me. Although I think some of my blogger "friends" who comment regularly have got to know me pretty well and they don't judge me. In fact, I think they get me more than I do and I value what they have to say. I love reading their blogs too and feel as if I have got to know a few of them, and what is happening in their lives pretty well, which seems very bizarre, given that none of us have ever met.

I did nearly stop blogging in November but then decided on therapy instead! I'm still not entirely sure that is the answer for me but I won't give up on it yet. I don't enjoy the sessions but I do have this strange feeling that if I open myself up to whatever it is the therapist is pushing me to see, I may come across something quite revelatory. It is forcing me to think about a lot of things so like I say, I'll keep at it.

I suppose, this year has been pretty much about Matt. We started the year in the throes of a passionate affair but actually over the twelve months we have been on and off so many times that it is really quite pathetic. The main thing is that while it was on, he made me feel young and attractive again but now, when it is truly finished, I have to admit to feeling quite sad about the whole sorry thing. I'm cross with myself because though I didn't ever particularly like him, I did need him in my life. I enjoyed sex with him. I liked being adored by him.

I ended it finally in September and now his girlfriend has moved in with him. Even so, I like that he keeps texting and emailing even though I haven't been replying. It means I was something in his life. Yes, he was using me for a bit of excitement but I like him telling me that I'm not like any other woman he has ever known. This is why I need to stick with the whole therapy thing. To work out why I needed all that and to stop me being susceptible to it again.

I do think I handled myself well through the whole thing. I kept to the rules I set myself by not ever losing control. I called the shots and I always waited for him to make the first move - it was never me running to him, being desperate and clingy. He knew he had power over me though because until I made that final decision in September, it was never that difficult to persuade me round to his way of thinking and he clearly feels he can still do that.

That whole relationship resulted in weight loss of around two and a half stone (though with all the eating and drinking over the last week, I'm sure I have put a fair bit of that back on!) and I feel very good at the moment about the way I look.

It's only momentary though. Yes it's great finding clothes at the back of my wardrobe that fit again and shopping has become fun again but as I have said before, I feel as if my life has gone cold. Nothing excites me. I've even given up on the singing which was the one thing that I really loved. I do sometimes feel that even though I'm now seeing the therapist, a breakdown isn't far away ....

I think it was the death of my dear friend Sean this year that set most of this off. Last December he told us he had cancer, but it was only in May that we realised it was terminal and by August he had gone. I haven't really come to terms with that yet. That, coupled with the fact that I haven't been able to stop thinking of my dad (who died ten years ago this year), has made me very morose.

Poor Ewan - he has all this to contend with and he knows I'm not happy at the moment. He is a good man and we are a good couple, I suppose. My fling with Matt, or the flings I have had in the past, are not about him. They're about some problem deep within me that I really need to find a way of addressing. We have a good sex life so it's not that I am searching for. He provides for me and takes his share of responsibilities around the house so it's not as if I'm left with everything to do. He's a fantastic father and Sasha and Kyle absolutely adore him - more than me I'm sure, but it's not jealousy.

It's always great while we're away on holiday but at home I know that he makes me feel irritated, burdened and just plain belligerent. Again, I really need to work out what it is that makes me feel like that, so the therapist really does have his work cut out for him. He wants me to acknowledge that some of Ewan's past behaviour is the reason I may feel the way I do. I'll blog about that one day but I'm not ready to do so yet.

On a positive note, my children make me happy. I'm so proud of them and we have a good relationship.

Kyle took 3 GCSEs, a year early, in the summer and got 3 A*s and his school suggests he has everything required to apply for Oxbridge which he is really keen to do. I don't know how he is so clever. It has to be down to Ewan!

Sasha is pursuing her love of music and drama. She has decided to put university on hold for a year or so as she sees how things develop. I'm not sure that is the sensible thing to do but I have to trust her to make the right decision and can only give her my opinion. The shows that I have seen her in this year though have been a-maz-ing ! I love watching her and there is no feeling greater than when people ask me if I'm her mother and tell me how much they enjoy her performances.

So 2010 approaches! I know what needs work. I'm going to try really hard to rise above all the rubbish, be positive and value what I have. Here's hoping I can do just that.

Happy New Year!

xx

Not Long Now

Gosh it’s been busy.

The organised Ms Selina Kingston seems to have run off into the wilds somewhere and left me with an incompetent creature who is still writing Christmas cards even though I’m sure the last posting date has passed.

She has had to take today off work so that she can get the food in and buy presents, if only for nearest and dearest, and then make pathetic excuses or raid the back shelves of cupboards to make do for everyone that has been forgotten, because no neatly compiled list has been written this year.

And the house is a complete mess. Even though her sister-in-law and family will be round on Boxing Day.

I think she just may have a breakdown before the Big Day.

So, if you read in the news that a woman has been found wandering the streets in just her vest and knickers crying/giggling/screaming/babbling away incoherently, you might just want to phone in to let them know it’s probably me.

Happy Christmas to you and yours!

xx

Tis The Season To Be Jolly (....apparently!)

The singing group have their Christmas Cabaret this week and I went last night.

They started practising back in October but I decided not to take part because I knew Matt would be involved.

Singing has always been such an important part of my life and I love it. It has always made me feel so good inside and even when I have felt low, it really does take me to another place. And performing is something I feel so comfortable with. I guess it's because I'm a huge show-off.
The thing is, I have lost all enthusiasm for it recently. I haven't been to any of the weekly meetings for ages and I only went last night out of duty.

It doesn't take a genius to work out it is obviously because that's where I met Matt and him being there has taken the shine off it but actually I think there is a bit more to it than that. This feeling that something has withered away inside of me - that I don't have the right to enjoy anything, probably explains it.

I talked about that with the therapist yesterday. He nodded sagely but I'm not really convinced that he gets me. I'm finding the sessions with him quite hard work actually. He's obviously pushing me to something but deep down I feel a bit resentful about it all which I know isn't helpful. I told him that, and he just smiled and said it was all part of the process. I wish he wouldn't be so bloody nice all the time! Why can't he just give me the answer and tell me what I need to feel normal again and then I can get the heck out of there.

I know, I know. I'm being unreasonable and that's not what therapy is about. And I do need to give it time and there is a lot to work through but maybe I should consider finding someone else. I know though that I'm only looking for someone who will make me feel like a nice person and who won't make me examine all these horrible aspects of my character. But I don't feel he's listening to me. For example, I told him I don't want to keep talking about Ewan and yet still he keeps pushing. It's very frustrating. I will keep with it though ....even though I'm now dreading each session and instead of walking on air when I leave, I feel like I'm wading through treacle !!

Anyway, back to last night. I was there on my own as the rest of the family all had other things on. Matt wasn't in the show after all, but Kelly was. It was all pretty dire and I don't think that was because I was just so down on the whole thing. The regular MDs, Nick and Mel, have gone on a year-long trip round the world and their absence was clearly felt. I was really tempted to run off during the interval but decency prevailed and I stayed the course. I wish I hadn't because towards the end of the second half, I felt a squeeze on my knee and there was Matt, slipping into the seat next to me.

He had been helping backstage and spotted me and so once his job was done, he decided to join me. It was all very awkward and as soon as the final curtain went down, I said I had to go but he was trying to persuade me to pop outside with him so we could have a quick chat. I told him no, that I didn't have time as I had to rush back. He looked quite crestfallen but I refuse to feel guilty. He was trying it on while his girlfriend was backstage for goodness sake.

Grrr...I'm so cross with the world and I thought this was supposed to be the season of joy and goodwill.

Writing Back

Dear Selina,

This will come as a complete surprise but I just wanted to drop you a line to help you on a little even though I know you will read this and think you don't need to hear any of it. Believe me, I know you will think that!

You had a good time at your parents' 25th, didn't you? Catching up with family and friends and enjoying being told you looked gorgeous and loving having Lee by your side....

Work is going well too. It's a great company isn't it and you're getting into your stride. I know you're really caught up with the whole celebrity thing just now but you are a natural PR animal and all your managers think you're a great thing. You have a a great future there and are set to rise through the ranks so take heart in that and don't beat yourself up too much when things go wrong, which they will from time to time. You will screw up a pretty major account but honestly don't waste too many tears. Put it down to experience, learn from it and move on.

I feel there are so many things I need to tell you not to do or even to warn you about to prepare you for the future but you look so happy, and actually Dr Who (the David Tenant one who is the best ever, even though I know you can't imagine that anyone could top Tom Baker) says we're not supposed to do anything to change history.

So all I will tell you is that you have the capacity to remain blissfully happy through to your mid-forties but you just need to be calm and rational and not let yourself be brought down by the things that happen in your life. I know that on good days, you can be the life and soul but already on those bad days that have started to creep in, you can let your worries about what people think of you throw you into a pit of despondancy. You are a fabulous girl, full of fun and loved by everyone around you but you need to not be so hard on yourself.

I know how much you love Lee but you need to take back a bit of control. It's great at the moment. He adores you and makes you feel like a princess and has done since he first started to pursue you, even when you weren't sure whether it was a good idea to get involved with someone so absolutely gorgeous and sure of himself. You thought then that someone like that could only hurt you but over the last year that hasn't been the case and he's the one who keeps telling you that you are everything he could wish for and more. He's the one who fell head over heels in love with you first and now you have followed suit and life is great. All I'm asking you to do is not let him be so responsible for your happiness. Imagine if he suddenly cooled off a bit. I know it seems so unlikely now but if he did, you would be able to handle it if you keep strong and build up enough self-worth to know that his failings are HIS fault and not yours. That way too, if it were to end, you could eventually dry your tears and be ready for whoever else might come along and be worthy of your love. A love that you would then offer again freely and without fear that he too might take it and carelessly throw it away.
This probably makes no sense. Just stay strong Selina and don't allow yourself into a place where you can be easily broken and from where it might take you a long time to recover. No man is worth that, honestly.

I don't want you to be upset by Mum either. She says a lot of things but the easiest way to handle it is to just let her say what she thinks and don't argue with her. You won't change her so just let her get on with it and don't allow yourself to be affected what she says and does. If you watch Dad, that's exactly what he does. He has nothing to prove to her and neither do you.
Talking of Dad, do spend as much time with him as you can. Watch the way he listens to you when you are relating one of your very long anecdotes. I know if feels as if he'll always be around but just imagine if he wasn't or if he suddenly fell ill. Tell him everything you want him to hear. He's so proud of you and you are his absolute life and his total joy. Please don't leave it too late before you fully understand that.

There are so many other things to tell you but time is limited: don't let yourself put on too much weight because it really is a bugger to get off; when you get married take your vows very seriously, especially about being faithful even though your head is so easily turned by good-looking men and cheap, easy compliments; stop trying to please everyone around you all the time just so you'll be liked; look at yourself in the mirror and be proud of what you see - you look amazing so don't allow yourself to be plagued by self-doubt... I could go on and on.

The key thing is not to have regrets in your life. If there is something you want to do then do it, but think of the consequences. Don't let others talk you out of doing anything but do think twice about any decision you make.

And remember, if you love yourself you will be able to love everyone around you, which in turn will make you happy and content and fulfilled.

The Photo

Sasha wanted some inspiration for a 70's party that she's going to this weekend so last night, we went through some old photos to see if there was anything there that would provide help.

It was ages since I'd looked at them and we spent a very entertaining hour looking at some of the dreadful things my mother wore in the name of fashion, and some of the horrors she dressed me in. In between the laughter though we were both struck at just what a beautiful woman she was (still is, in fact) and how she managed to exude considerable style and glamour even during that fashion drought of a decade!

As I carried on flipping through the albums, waves of nostalgia washed over me. It was lovely.
There was one particular photo that really struck me. It was taken at my parents' 25th anniversary when they had a huge party to celebrate. I was in my early 20s and going out with Lee, the big love of my life. Sasha was impressed:
"Wow! Who's that? He's sooo fit. And look at you. Oh my god Mum, you look amazing! The two of you look like a proper celebrity couple."

It was true. He was gorgeous and we did look amazing together. When that photo was taken, we had been going out together for about a year and all was good and we were happy. I had a very chic black dress on and looking at it now, I looked stunning but I remember so clearly at the time being quite upset because I thought I looked fat. I was a size 10 !!! God, to be as "fat" at that now.

As I gazed at that photo, I thought about my life now and it was as if I was looking at a different person.

So I started to write her a letter. I don't know why and I might abandon it but if I don't, I just may publish it here.

Oh, there's so much to tell her....

Ewan - Again

I had my second session with the therapist yesterday.

It wasn't as satisfactory as last week. I kind of knew it wouldn't be because he warned me last week that he wanted to focus on Ewan and I was getting myself in a state about it as the appointment got nearer. I told him that before we started and he asked me the inevitable "why" and I didn't have an answer.

Rather than go over the session, I thought I would just be incredibly lazy and re-post what I wrote about my husband when I first started this blog as it sums up much what I said. Reading it through again though I recognise that at the time I wrote this, my attitude towards him was just plain belligerent and that's not how I feel now. I know that he really tries to be a good husband and doesn't intend to provoke me but sometimes, that in itself is an aggravation. I tried to explain that to the therapy man but he was pushing me to try and explain what I meant and then, why I was getting so uncomfortable about trying to make sense of it all.

I had told him a few other things about Ewan as well, things I haven't mentioned on this blog (yet) and he kept going on about them. Almost blaming Ewan and pointing the finger and asking if that wasn't the reason I was down about so many things but strangely, I wouldn't have it.

I have thought about it since and realise that I am very defensive towards my husband. It's OK for me to speak out against him or act badly towards him (and behind his back), but no one else has the right to do that. Not even the children. I won't let them backchat him or moan about him when they feel he's let them down, which is rare, admittedly.

That's weird isn't it? Why am I so protective of him when I try and pretend I don't care enough? Because I do?! Oh who knows. There is so much to go through with this therapy lark and my head is hurting already at the seriously deep thinking I have to do. And this is just one issue....grrr!!

Not such a light feeling on leaving this time but I know I have to work at it and I will.

Meantime, here's that entry .....

Ewan - The Husband
Ours was a bit of a whirlwind romance.

I'd had a few dates since splitting up with Lee but nothing that changed my opinion that all men were just out for themselves. And then, I went to my friend's 25th birthday party and met Ewan, one of her colleagues. I noticed him looking over at me almost as soon as I arrived and he wasn't unattractive - tall and broad.....looked like a rugby player! I tried to ignore him but every time I glanced over, he was looking and smiling. Something drew me to him so after a few drinks I went over and we hit it off straight away.

He had a kind face with lovely brown eyes and a boyish smile and he just seemed different to anyone else I had met. This was no Jack-the-lad but a really warm man who seemed genuinely interested in everything I had to say. He wasn't setting out to impress but I could still tell he liked me.

We arranged to meet the next day and then saw each other all the time over the next week - it was just so easy being with him. By the Friday, he told me he loved me but even though I was having the time of my life and loving all the attention and affection, I stayed cool. I refused to let myself be swept off my feet, even though it would have been the easiest thing in the world but the memory of the way Lee hurt me was still fresh in my mind.

By the following Friday, he asked me to marry him and because I knew I wouldn't find another man like him; no one who would love me so sincerely; no one who wanted to make me happy like he did; no one who kissed me so tenderly but with real passion and desire. Because of all of that, I said yes and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do. By then, we were also the best of friends and it didn't matter that I wasn't allowing myself to fall in love with him - I knew I wanted to be his wife and I vowed to be a good one, to never let him regret marrying me even though I couldn't say the words "I love you".

We had a huge wedding just six months later - big church, big dress, big cake - the works. It was a great day and his speech was so beautiful and full of love. I couldn't quite believe I was with a man who was so happy to have found me.

At the beginning, he was very attentive and so proud of me. All my friends loved him to bits and thought I was the luckiest woman in the world. And I did my part too. We bought an old run-down house and together we renovated it and brought it back to its former glory. And then we spent all our time entertaining.

After a year, we thought the time was right for children and I got pregnant straight away but at four months I had a miscarriage. I felt such a failure and I guess that's when things changed a bit. He was still attentive but he was keen to get on with the business of starting a family and he couldn't understand why I was scared to get pregnant again, especially as the doctor had reassured us that it wasn't likely to happen again.

The next year was difficult but eventually I caved in and Sasha arrived followed almost immediately by Kyle the following year. Things were different then. We were both completely besotted with our children and everything we did revolved around them. His affection for me diminished noticeably as he lavished it on both of them. I compensated by giving them all my time too. We settled into a comfortable family routine together - what some people may call a rut - and the years went by.

He did well at work getting regular promotions but it meant he stayed at the office longer. And then we hit a really rough patch when he started drinking too much because of the stress. I kind of lost him then, I think, even though we got through it. His love for the children made him realise the error of his ways and he got back on track but I felt responsible for that wobble. Maybe I should have been more supportive, looked after him more. He told me often during that period that he was tired of trying to break down my walls and though I told him not to be stupid, I knew full well what he meant.

We've got by since then. Living together, looking out for each other - to the outside world it looks good and actually, I suppose it is. Can any marriage hope for more after nearly twenty years?The thing is, although we are still together, he is, in a sense, only on the sidelines of my life. We share a bed and eat meals together and talk about stuff but what I've realised recently is that he is excluded from my innermost thoughts. Even so, although I know I probably don't need him in my life, I don't want to be without him. In fact, I can barely remember life without him.

Is that love?

Happy Birthday, Speedy

Today is Kyle's birthday. I can't believe my baby boy is now sixteen.

He's such a good lad and we are incredibly proud of him. His sister Sasha, has great musical and dramatic talents, but he, is an academic genius. In the summer, he took three GCSEs a year early and got 3 A*s and he's set to get the same with the rest next summer. He'll hopefully also take an AS early too, so he really is doing spectacularly well.

His school only ever has good things to say about him and I marvel at how self-motivated he is, how he just gets on with his work without any nagging from me. I was never like that. He's definitely his father's son and Sasha, bless her, takes after me in the brain stakes!

I should have realised he would be a go-getter from the way he was born. I remember it as if it were yesterday ....

Sasha had taken a good 36 hours to make her entry into the world. I spent the first eight hours or so at home, enduring more and more painful contractions and trying to stay graceful and calm, until I could take it no more and went to hospital only to find that I was only two centimetres dilated. TWO !!!! It took another 24 hours for the child to make an appearance and believe me all grace and calm went out the window.

This time round, just a year later, I was determined to wait as long as possible before going into hospital. So when the contractions started at three in the afternoon, I decided that I would just ignore them as I guessed there would be no baby before the following afternoon at the earliest. I called Ewan to warn him not to take on any new projects but not to rush home. I spent the rest of the day with my gorgeous baby Sasha as I knew it would be the last time she would ever have me all to herself. I was rolling around on the floor with her, and letting her clamber all over me and all the time I tried to take no notice of the worsening pain that was coming at increasingly shorter intervals. I did start to worry at about five-thirty that maybe the baby's arrival was not far off when suddenly, everything just stopped. No contractions, nothing.

I felt extremely smug that I had been clever enough to stay at home and ride out the pain and then got on with giving Sasha her bath and dinner and putting her to bed with an extra special kiss and cuddle. It was as I lowered her into her cot that the pains started again but I wasn't going to be fooled into going to hospital too early and so I settled down to watch "EastEnders" which was a really important and dramatic episode that revealed a storyline that was far too important to be distracted by mere labour pains!

My parents were staying with us at the time and my dad knew instantly I was suffering because he noticed me clenching my toes every time I had a contraction!! He said I needed to get to hospital as he could see they were coming pretty fast but I said I knew better and that they would soon stop again. The poor man started pacing then and I'm sure I didn't do his heart any favours as I then, stubbornly sat and watched the Paul McKenna show! By the end of that though, the pain was pretty intense.

I asked Ewan to run me a bath and I calculated that if I had a leisurely soak in warm water, it would help ease the pain and give me a few more hours at home. However, just as I went to step into the tub, my waters broke and from that point on there were no more contractions just continuous, excruciating pain. I told Ewan to call an ambulance as I needed gas and air but they just laughed and told him it was as easy to take me to hospital himself.

We got in the car and had only reached the end of our road when suddenly I could feel the baby's head. I told Ewan and he had the cheek to say he didn't think I could, so I grabbed his hand off the steering wheel and put it up my skirt so he could feel for himself. I have never seen the colour drain out of someone so fast! He became like a man possessed, driving on pavements, jumping lights, swearing at pedestrians who dared use the zebra crossing. This was Ewan - my mild-mannered, even-tempered husband who was, by the way, shouting at me to shut up everytime I screamed with pain, asking how I could have been so stupid to have left it for so long. He was a different man!

He screeched to a halt outside the maternity unit where a few midwives were clearly waiting to be collected now that their shifts were over and he jumped out of the car and shouted the immortal line "MY WIFE IS HAVING A BABY" !! One of them pointed to the entrance but he screamed "NO SHE'S HAVING IT NOW!"

She sauntered over to the car, took one look at me and then threw her bag on the floor. After a quick feel she shouted, even louder than Ewan, "I NEED SUPPORT HERE .... NOWWWWW !!"

And all I remember, is that three minutes later, still in the car, Kyle was in my arms and Ewan was next to me, in shock. It took him a good couple of weeks to recover from that and even now he doesn't laugh when I tell the story. He adores his boy though.

So do I.

Happy Birthday my darling Kyle! I love you ....so, so much.

In Therapy

First session yesterday.

I was kind of looking forward to it all day, in a nervous way. When I got there though, I almost ran off. I’ve fought against doing this for so long that I suddenly felt I couldn’t go through with it.

But, I climbed the steps up to the front of the enormous house, rang the bell and half-expected the door to be opened by a maid with a frilly cap and a feather duster. It was a dusty-looking man who answered though.

"Hello” I said with my practiced smile “I’m here to see Bob.”

“I know you are, Selina. I’m Bob and it’s lovely to meet you” and he shook my hand warmly and invited me to follow him into his huge maze of a house, through the hall, round a corner, down some steps and finally into a cosy room full of books on shelf-lined walls and some mismatched armchairs.

“Take a seat” he said

“Oh” I said, with a ridiculous little giggle, “is this where you judge my personality type by the chair I choose.”

“No” he said, simply.
(I’m so stupid! First thing learned – don’t try and be funny all the time)

Anyway, I sank into a big, squashy leather armchair and he took the seat opposite me. He spent the first few minutes going through various rules: how it was all confidential, that I must give notice if I wanted to cancel a session, that he had the right to finish the treatment if I missed more than three sessions without prior warning, that I had to enter into it seriously, that it wouldn’t necessarily be easy…..He continued for a while but to be honest, I wasn’t really listening because I just wanted to get on. I signed something to the effect of what he had laid out and then he sat back, looked at me with his head to one side and said with his lovely warm Radio 4 voice, “So. How are you?”

And as I went to answer, I suddenly burst into tears! I didn’t expect them at all but they came from somewhere deep within me. So deep, that I couldn’t stop. I don’t know if it was because I suddenly felt safe, or because I was scared of what was going to happen, or because I was angry with myself for needing to be here or just desperate to get all of this stuff inside of me out but I must have sobbed for about three or four long minutes. And he did nothing. Apart from placing a box of tissues on the little table in front of me.

When I eventually stopped, I said sorry and he asked me why I was crying and I said I didn’t know. He just smiled and said it was OK, that I was there to find that out.

I remember then saying something about being there because life was running ahead of me and I needed some techniques to get it back in hand again. And he suggested that actually what I probably needed more was to find out why I felt out of control.

The next three-quarters of an hour seemed to fly by as I just told him about myself – family situation, career, friends…..affairs (which made me cry again). He didn’t write anything down – he just watched me babbling on. It felt like I talked forever and then suddenly he was saying that he was afraid our time was over but that next week, he’d like to concentrate on my relationship with my husband.

And that was it.

I did walk away from there feeling lighter. But I’m already slightly apprehensive about talking about Ewan.

To Anon et al

Thank you all for the comments to my last post. They have made me think… a lot and, helped me to what could be a life changing decision!

Steve, as ever, so full of wisdom, made me seriously consider getting a counsellor. It’s something I have thought a lot about in the past, but as Maternal Tales made me realise, I have always rejected the idea because I thought of it as a sign of defeat. And now, suddenly, I realise that it’s not. I am depressed. There’s no point denying it, or trying to pretend that I’m not. I am. And so I need to take some positive action.

And yesterday, I did just that. I was speaking to one of the senior partners at work and we started talking about the whole counselling thing and he told me that he had a therapist which completely surprised me as he seems one of the most together people I know. Anyway, he gave me the number and rather than hide it away or put it off, I rang the guy straight away. I’m quite proud of myself about that! He sounds very nice and…… I am going to see him on Thursday! And stupidly, I feel better already.

So that, I think, is a result. But it was really Anonymous’ comment that prompted me to write today. It really got to me. I don’t know whether s/he is a follower that I know and maybe also follow, or someone brand new to me, who has decided to say what s/he really thinks. But do you know, I really appreciate it. Although it doesn’t make easy reading, a lot of it is actually very accurate. I do crave attention and the cheating thing is, of course, about self-gratification. As I’ve said before, I’m constantly amazed that readers never judge me or call me names that I think I deserve.

I am surprised though that Anonymous says I like myself too much. I always thought half my problem was that I don’t like myself enough so I really need to give that some thought and maybe work through it with the counsellor. Also, it may be true that I’m not in love with my husband but that doesn’t mean I don’t love him. I do. Come to think of it, I love my mother too, for all her difficult ways. I may not like her much at times but I do love her. It doesn’t matter though - I’m touched and impressed that Anonymous has bothered to read the entire blog and taken the time to comment.

I guess devoting a whole post on my reaction to Anon’s comments means I am a bit too keen to justify myself, though that wasn’t really the point. In fact, I was actually thinking it might be a fitting way to finish this blog. To say thank you and goodbye, especially as I’ve now made the decision to be therapised !!! It seemed a fitting end.

However, reading again the lovely comments from all, including the wonderful Wife of Bold, the fabulous and funny Sagittarian, gorgeous George (all of whom I love reading and thus respect) and whatsmore advice from a new reader – Love Writing Again - I realise, I don’t want to stop! As Maternal and Love Writing say, my blog is my space to do what I want with and it doesn’t really matter if people don’t like it. I need it to be able to record my life the way it is and use it to see the patterns that emerge and also to learn from any feedback (positive and negative) that my followers kindly give me.

So, I’m not going anywhere!

Steve says I shouldn’t apologise for what I write and so I won’t. My attitude should be take it or leave it, and I think I’m slowly getting there.

.......…Mind you, there’s still a bit of me saying “Oh go on, please like me a little bit!”

Blogging Break

It’s not that I haven’t wanted to write.

I can always think of something to say or an event to relate. It’s just that on looking back at recent posts, my general tone seems to be miserable, whiney and moaney. And that is so not me.

At least not on the outside. Not the Selina that people beyond the blogosphere know. She’s so entertaining. Very funny, known for her warm and ready smile and loved for her infectious, if raucous, laugh. That Selina is a joy to be with.

This one is the real one and because she writes with honesty, about how she really feels and about what she’s up to in her secret life, her blogging pals don’t see that side of her. They don’t know that actually, she’s rather lovely and not a discontented, cheating whore.

The thing is I’m getting rather tired of Selina Kingston. She bores me and if I’m bored, then I’m worried that the people who read me must be fed up too. She needs to be given a slap and told not to be so bloody self-indulgent.

The trouble is I’m also tired of playing the real Selina. It’s getting harder each day to play that lovely, friendly woman. Sometimes, even when I’m laughing loudly in a group, I almost have an urge to just descend into crazy manic laughter followed by crying and then hysterical screaming ….to fall to the floor and roll up into a ball and rock away all that pain inside me which I don’t even understand why I should have, until someone comes to take me away and put me in a quiet room where I can stay forever, or at least until I have emptied my head of this buzzing confusion and think normally again.

But of course I can’t do that.

I’m depressed, I know that much. I just don’t know how seriously. I’m a wife, a mother, a daughter and a professional women. There are a lot of people who need me to hold it together so that I can help them when they fall apart.

And so, after a momentary lapse, I’m back. I’ll carry on as I have been and I apologise in advance for being such a baby about everything. I’ll address all these issues one day. But not now.

It’s not my time yet.

Racism

It seems one in five voters would consider voting for Nick Griffin following his appearance on Question Time. And one of those, is ….my mother!

It has caused great ructions in this house as everyone has tried to challenge her opinion which they should all know by now does nothing but cement her weird ideas even further. I know she is partly doing it to get attention but it has really upset me.

She insists she is not a racist but in the same breath says that he isn’t either as he has apparently said in the past that non-white people can stay in this country if they pull their weight, and that’s what she thinks too. And then she goes on and on and on with her views on muslims, asylum seekers, eastern Europeans, blacks (she doesn’t differentiate between them) etc…..and how they are “bringing this country down”. I hate it when she talks like this. She has always held very right-wing views that have got worse since my dad died. He used to keep her in check and I have often warned her to keep her thoughts to herself, which she has largely done. Now though, thanks to Nick bloody Griffin, she thinks she can express them loudly and proudly. She believes most people feel the same but don’t have the courage to admit what they really think in public.

I feel so ashamed of her. The children have been arguing with her and Ewan has taken to simply avoiding her. She’s been in a mood all day and has just screamed at me that I am turning my family against her even though I’m the one who has said the least. There’s been a horrible atmosphere in this house since that damned programme was aired and right now everyone is in their own rooms, feeling miserable.

It’s not often like this in our house but when it is, it’s because of her.

A Talk In The Park

I love Autumn.

I know I've said in the past that Spring is my favourite season, but October is such a wonderful time of the year. Crisp days with the leaves on the trees turning various shades of flaming red and brown. It's such a treat walking through the park on days like this and yesterday morning, I decided to take the long way into work so that I could do just that.

It was such a beautiful morning and I loved the sound of leaves crunching underfoot. I was, without even realising it, very content.

Which is why, when a text from Matt came through asking if I was free because he wanted to tell me something, I decided not to ignore him but told him to call me. He rang immediately and I sat on a bench to listen to what I knew would be some elaborate attempt to get me to meet up with him.

It was a good line. He wanted me to hear from him that Kelly was going to be moving into his flat next month. I don't know what he thought I would do - burst into tears, fly into a hysterical rage, beg him not to let that happen ....??? Whatever, he seemed surprised when I simply said "that's nice".

"Are you OK with that?" he asked.

I almost wanted to laugh and asked in return why I wouldn't be and he said he didn't know!
I told him it would be good for him and that taking a step towards some sort of commitment would make him a better person. He then said that he was only doing it because she was making his life hell at the moment and kept crying and accusing him of seeing someone else so he felt the only answer was to to say "move in". He has since regretted it though as she is now very excited and he feels "trapped". I feel very sorry for her.

We talked a bit more, or at least he did, and after a few minutes he asked if we ....... could meet up. I said no, simply and politely and then said I had to go. But after I put my phone back in my bag, I sat in the park for a while and suddenly, felt inexplicably sad.

That's how I've felt since - and I can't seem to snap out of it.

The Thin Blue Line

It really was quite a pathetic attempt at a cliffhanger, wasn’t it?

I did the test as soon as I got home from Kim’s house and had a momentary panic when I saw the blue line, but that of course was to tell me that I had done it all properly. The next window was blank. I’m not pregnant!

I'm so stupid. There was never any real danger that I would be - and for the record, it could only have been with Ewan's baby. I guess it was wishful thinking on my part or that old drama queen in me coming to the surface to try and take centre stage with some new crisis.

Seeing Nancy pregnant did make me feel somewhat envious even though it’s actually the last thing she really wants. She’s already got three – Michael (16), Minnie (14) and Marnie (12). They are all now at high school which should have meant more time for her. But now, at forty five, she’s about to have twins. And she doesn’t know if she can cope.

I guess, if I found out that I was pregnant I don’t think I would be able to manage either. As lovely as it would be to have a little baby to look after again, it would be a complete nightmare at this stage of my life. I love reading the yummy mummy (and daddy!) blogs and they make me smile and remember how lovely it was having my babies. I do reflect though on how I would cope now with tantrums and early mornings and lack of sleep and constant attention. The conclusion is that, overall, I am satisfied with the way things are thank you. Job done !

Trouble is, as my periods get lighter and less regular, I know that it won’t be long before I can’t have a baby and that’s doing strange things to my head. It’s that whole wanting what I can’t have thing.

It’s also the desire to be needed. As my children grow older they need me less and I’d be lying to say that doesn’t affect me. Of course I’m glad that they are growing up into mature, independent, wise young people but I don’t want to feel discarded.

Oh enough of all this! That is definitely the last pregnancy test I ever buy. Menopause is approaching. It won't be that long before a little voice is calling me Granny Selina!

I may as well put my greying hair in a bun, sit in a rocking chair and give up now !

Autumn Expectations

I was ill all last week.

I left work last Monday evening after an impossibly busy day which I hardly kept on top of and when I got home I fell into bed and didn’t get out until yesterday. I don’t know what it was but over the week, I had a taste of everything - sickness, headache, dizziness, earache, blocked/runny nose, sore throat, cough, general aches and pains and stiffness but mostly lack of energy…as if someone had let all my air out. I haven’t felt that bad in a long while.

I still don’t feel right and I wouldn’t have got up yesterday if it wasn't for my darling friend Kim. Every October, for the past few years, she has had an Apple Day get-together for her girlfriends and it’s a lovely opportunity for us to catch up with each other.

She always goes to a lot of trouble making the most of the produce from the mini-orchard at the back of her huge garden. She does home-made cider (which is very potent), and various apple puds and cakes and a she does a pork barbecue that we have with her fantastic apple sauce. She also does goodie bags to take home for the family with toffee apples for the kids and various jars of apple this and that plus as many apples we can pick that are still on the trees. She says it’s her way of using up her harvest so that she doesn’t have tons of rotting apples to get rid of each year but really she puts an enormous amount of work into making sure everyone has a fab time and it has never been anything but wonderful. She always manages to pick a great autumnal day too before it gets too cold.

I especially wanted to go yesterday, because I couldn’t make it last year as work was so busy but also because I knew one of my closest friends Nancy would be there who I haven’t been able to reach since Sean’s funeral.

I felt rough on the train there but I knew I’d feel better once I was with the others. Kim opened the door to me and after our squeals and hugs she looked really serious as instead of pulling me out to her garden where the others were, she told me to go into her lounge as Nancy needed to tell me something.

I suddenly felt in a panic. Had I done something wrong? Was there something wrong with her? I almost didn’t want to go in but I did and there she was sitting down, looking as gorgeous as ever, though somehow different and I couldn’t work out why until she stood up. Nancy is pregnant!

I couldn’t believe it and it all came tumbling out that she only found out just before she had got the news that Sean had died and that she had then been really ill and quite depressed as she and Will had not not been getting on (again) and she hadn’t wanted to speak to anyone and that she was now five months pregnant and that oh, the reason she was so big was because .......she is expecting twins!!

I really feel for her. I can’t believe she has gone through all this without talking to any of us. She’s much better now both physically and emotionally but I think she’s scared about how she's going to manage with five - that’s FIVE children. It was so lovely seeing her though and I reassured her that I would make myself available to give her plenty of time.

On my way home, as I thought about her situation and how frightening it would be to have a child at this age, I suddenly thought about how I’ve been feeling this last week and it was like a light bulb suddenly coming on! Could I be? I am late. In fact, I can’t remember when I had my last period.

So I stopped off on my way home and bought a pregnancy test.

The Cheating Game

I have been pondering the whole issue of infidelity.

The subject came up yesterday when I was at lunch with some clients, including a celebrity chef who cooked for us and plied us with copious amounts of alcohol. He’s been a naughty boy but he was trying to convince me that it means nothing if you don’t kiss! He said kissing is the most intimate thing two people can do, whereas sex is just a physical relief – like going to the loo or eating when you’re hungry. So, it means nothing and thus, is OK.

What he said was no surprise. I’m well aware that many men hold this opinion or use it to justify their behaviour. He also blamed his wife who he said he loved but had allowed their sex life to become formulaic. I suggested he might be to blame there too but he said it was her job to excite him into wanting to do more than execute a quick, covert strike once the children were asleep. He put together a very persuasive argument for why his sexual dalliances were OK and nothing to do with his wife.

He asked me if I had ever had an affair and of course, I looked suitably shocked and said of course not! He said my husband was a lucky man but suggested he was bound to have had a couple of flings in the last couple of decades and if he hadn’t, he was probably dead from the waist down! I said he was doing men a disservice by judging them all according to his standards but he laughed knowingly.

I think I probably understand the notion that men box their affairs and their marriage differently and neither is connected to the other but I’m sure that’s not the case with women. It’s certainly not the case with me although I still don’t understand why I have been unfaithful to my husband, who is a good man.

We have a good sex life. It might not be as saucy as when were first together but I think it’s more effective. We know what the other likes and what works for each other.

I know if I was found out, it would probably be the end of my marriage whereas I don’t think that would be the case if I were to discover the same thing. I know for certain that my children, especially my daughter, would never forgive me and my mother would disown me and my friends would probably take a step back too. Society is far more judgemental of women who cheat.

I read somewhere recently that women are, in fact, programmed for infidelity as nature drives them to keep a man or two in reserve because men die earlier or go off with younger creatures and we are in need of protection! It’s a great theory but I don’t think that’s why I do it. Not that I am at the moment. Although …..

I finally answered Matt’s barrage of texts and emails after I got one on Tuesday that asked why I was still not talking to him, and asking to meet up so that he could at least get some “closure”! I messaged back to say we would not be meeting up, and that led to an exchange which got naughtier and naughtier as he reminisced on things that we’d done in the past and what he wanted to do in the future. I should have stopped it and I did eventually but I found I was enjoying myself. I haven’t answered any texts since and I WON’T be seeing him again but that question of why I behave in this way still hangs over me.

Maybe, I’m not so dissimilar to the chef !

Keeping Mum

It was my mother's birthday at the weekend and so I thought it would be a good opportunity to write about her.

I have wanted to do that for a while now as I strongly believe that my relationship with her forms the basis of a lot of the pent-up discontent and dissatisfaction I have felt about life in general over the last couple of years. However, I have been sitting here for the last ten minutes just looking at a blank screen not really knowing where to start. The thing is, there is so much I want to say that I'm worried if I really start to let it out, I may never stop.

We don't have a volatile relationship punctuated by constant rows and disagreements. In fact, if you asked her what sort of relationship she had with her daughter she would say "excellent" because she has no idea how much she hurts and irritates me. Although actually, I think deep down she has a very good idea because I feel recently, she has been making an effort to be a half-decent person. As such, I don't feel inclined to unleash all my negative thoughts about her that harbour such misery.

So, in a bid to find inspiration on what to write, I looked back at what I wrote about her when I started this blog. As just a few minutes of trying to analyse my relationship with her has exhausted me, I'm just going to re-publish what I wrote back then. I know it's lazy but it covers what I need to say for the moment and I'll expand next time she has really upset me again.....if I can !!

So here it is, from last year:

Mimi - The Mother
Where do I start on the subject of my mother?

I tolerate her but deep down she drives me mad. Really mad. I'm sure my life would be better if she wasn't in it but a part of me worries that if she wasn't around, I wouldn't be able to function. How unhealthy is that? She has possessed me from the moment I was born.

Such a difficult woman - I don't know how my father lived with her for all those years but I know he loved her passionately and he never let me stay angry with her when she upset me. I know he loved me more but for all her temper, he never fell out of love with her.

He was ten years older than her and he met her when she was just seventeen and fell in love with her at once. He often told me about that party and how his heart started racing when she walked in with her friends. He said she looked older than her years in her white high-heeled boots and her little shift dress and her beehive hair and heavily-kohled eyes. He was completely smitten and she was flattered by the attention of this older and in her eyes, sophisticated man.

They married two years later and throughout their life together she behaved like a spoilt child who he indulged. Everything had to go her way and in their arguments, she wouldn't relent until he gave way. Oh, how I wished he would stand his ground with her but he never did....because he loved her and didn't want her to be unhappy. And she knew that and took full advantage of it.

When I came along, she was just twenty but she was obsessed with me. She didn't sleep or eat but just watched me constantly at the cost of her own health. She went down to just six stone in weight and then the doctor told my dad that she needed to put me in a nursery and get a job otherwise she would go mad. So she found a childminder and started working as a secretary at the local driving school. It was ridiculous because most of the pittance she earned went on childcare and the rest of it was her pocket money that she spent mainly on beautiful little dresses for me. I was like her doll.

One day when I was seven, she came to collect me after work and I cried because I wasn't ready to go home. She shouted at me all the way back to the house for that and when we got in through the door, she hit me. I still remember the physical and emotional pain of that strike and I never forgave her for it. She got another job soon after that and arranged for a neighbour to look after me for an hour after school finished, instead of the childminder.

I had to live up to her expectations - high grades, good behaviour, clean appearance. I learnt that if I did what she wanted, life was OK. If I didn't, I always felt she would withdraw her love. Even now, I still have that fear although part of me wishes she would, so that we could live apart from each other.

She came to live with us after my father died. She talks of him with great affection, about the wonderful times she had with him, about how much she misses his love. One of these days, I will lose it and scream at her that she made his life hell and that she didn't deserve him.....or maybe I won't, as I haven't all these years.

As the years go by, she is becoming almost impossible to live with as everything has to be done her way. She thinks she has the right to say what she wants, when she wants, to who she wants. It's as if she prizes that devil in her. It amuses her to let it slowly take over as she gets older. She thinks she has the right to goad and manipulate those around her and now at this stage in my life, I am finding it quite draining.

I blame her for the way I am. I know it's because of her that I cannot feel, though I can't explain how. I just know that it is because of her that I don't have any deep connection to anything, in a real way. I think I just go through life pretending to emotions that don't exist.

What on earth does that make me and would it suddenly change if she wasn't around?

Distractions

Ewan is home and I think even he has been surprised by the warmth of my welcome as I have been genuinely pleased to have him back. However, even though I'm so cross with Matt, I can't seem to stop thinking about him and how he made me feel when we were together. I haven't answered any of his texts or emails though and don't intend to. I just need to put him out my mind with whatever distractions I can find. And I think I have found the perfect exercise. Back in July, I was tagged by the fabulous Wife Of Bold and now seems the ideal time to settle myself down and answer. I won't tag any one this time round but if the mood grabs you, give it a go.....

1) Who is the hottest movie star?
Well at the moment, for me, it's Daniel Craig ! I don't really know why as he is not my type and he doesn't seem particularly charismatic as a person but I like his Bond and let's face it he's got a bit of a body on him!! I saw him in a film recently where he played a young guy having it off with his girlfriend's mother, played by the fabulous Anne Reid. That was quite a disturbing film to watch as he was a bit of a bastard in it but there was something hypnotic in watching him……
2) Apart from your house and car, what's the most expensive item you've ever bought?
I can't remember. I'm not a huge spender. I leave all those big purchases to Ewan who spends ALL the time - it's what we argue about more than anything. Whatever it was would have caused me some stress at the time I'm sure, but the best way to deal with that sort of thing is to then dismiss it from your mind !!!
3) What's your most treasured memory?
Oh gosh! Which one do I pick…There was my wedding day, the birth of my children (particularly Kyle who was born in the car - that's something I must remember to blog about in the future), children's first words, first steps but I guess the memory that's worth noting here is ….meeting Nelson Mandela!
4) What was the best gift you received as a child?
I wasn't allowed a Barbie or a Sindy doll when I was young - I can't even remember why. But I constantly whined for one and was constantly refused and then for one birthday, I was given a Pippa doll and I loved her so much. She had four or five outfits and eventually I got a bedroom and a kitchen for her - endless fun.
5) What is the biggest mistake you've ever made?
Starting up with Matt was clearly a huge error especially as I never seemed able to take firm enough control, until now.
6) Four words that describe you?
Weak, confused, self-destructive, disloyal
7) What was your highlight and lowlight of 2008?
- Being pursued by a gorgeous younger man who fooled me into feeling sexy and young again
- Hearing that my darling friend Sean had cancer.
8) Favorite film?
Oh I never know the answer to this question but I saw North by Northwest again recently and I'd forgotten what a fabulous film that is and just how well Cary Grant wears a suit.
9) Tell me one thing i don't know about you?
No! I'm afraid I can't do that! I have already laid myself bare and told readers of this blog more about myself than anyone else knows. I have to keep something back - a lady needs to preserve a little mystery, you know!
10) If you were a comic book/cartoon character who would you be?
Betty Boop - boop oop a doop x

Sorry? Pah !

Matt texted me today. He said he was sorry and that he understood why I was so angry, that he had been careless and stupid. He asked if he had blown it or whether we could meet up to talk it over. I haven't answered.

I feel sick. I need to go off and cry somewhere. Why do I feel so shit?

It's not as if I need this relationship - I don't. Even the sex doesn't do much for me anymore. I think I've just been going through the motions. I admit I was excited by his response to me which never seemed to dim, always as if couldn't get enough of me. I guess I was addicted to that desire, that adoration, that attention. But why? It's not as if I don't get it from Ewan. I do. Not so openly perhaps but I know he still fancies me. In Italy one morning, he watched me getting dressed and then pulled me down on to the bed and undressed me again. I know a lot of married couples who don't have that.

I feel so cheap which I think explains the waves of sickness and I guess I'm as angry with myself as I am with him. Stupid, stupid bastard ! This time it's final. I really am done with him.

I need to get my life back in order and have a welcome ready for Ewan that he deserves.

Rage

I'm writing this in fury. In fact, I'm practially shaking with anger.

Late last night, I rescued my phone from the bottom of my bag and saw a text that had been sent earlier in the evening from Matt
"I'm lying here thinking about you in all alone in your bed. Text or call me when you can. I'm desperate to hear from you."

It was late but I sent him one back
"Too tired to play now. Talk to you tomorrow. Glad you're desperate for me though!!"

Surprisingly he didn't reply which is very unusual but I didn't think too much of it and went to sleep.

This morning, he messaged me saying that he is in big trouble because Kelly saw the text last night and wanted an explanation. He has me listed in his phone as Sel and tried to tell her I was a male friend of his who he'd earlier invited to play online poker with. She was having none of it though and was in a rage.

She wasn't the only one. Since reading that I too have been raging. What was he thinking of - texting me when she was around? What sort of stupid w@$&er does that? And what does he expect me to do about it??

I texted back that he was a complete arse and that I was furious and I didn't want to do this anymore and that he was to delete my details from his phone because I didn't want anything more to do with him.

He hasn't replied since but I really don’t care as I have had enough of him and this is the last straw. He can go to hell.

Tosser !

Ciao Bella

Ewan is working in Italy for two weeks.

We decided to make the most of this opportunity by going over with him on Saturday until late last night when we left him there and returned home.

It was a great few days, if all too brief. I spent as much time as possible in the sun so that I'm ready for the winter and can stave off the SAD thing for as long as possible. As a result, I have finally managed to get a tan. I started to go a bit brown at the end of May when we had that glorious weather for a week or so but that disappeared fairly soon, along with any resemblance of a fine British summer. Now though, I'm happy and I have come into work in a short, floaty, summer dress and sandals to show off my berry brown skin to as many people as possible! Thing is, it's a bit cold ......

Anyway, I ate far too much while I was there but I take comfort in the fact that a lot of it was luscious fresh local fruit and veg: plump tomatoes; fiery peppery rocket; juicy blood red oranges; fat peaches dripping with what tasted like nectar from the gods and lemons the size of small grapefruits which made up the local liquor Limoncello, which is now my new favourite tipple (Sag, take note - I've brought back gallons and so need a recipe one Tuesday soon!) .

On Monday, the company that Ewan has gone over to work for had a barbecue to welcome all those who have made the trip and it was glorious. More eating and drinking, including a whole pig on a spit. I wasn't really sure about that as I don't like to see any resemblance to animals when I consume my meat - it makes me feel temporarily guilty. However, on this occasion the shame was just fleeting as I've never tasted such succulent pork - I went back for more three times !!!

At that barbecue, I met Elliot. Our eyes met across the gardens and I couldn't help thinking what a striking man he was. Before I knew it, he was by my side asking me what my name was and did I know I was the most beautiful woman there !!?? Of course, with an opening line like that I fell completely in love with him and we spent a lot of time together over the week. Ewan and the kids thought he was fab too as did my mother, who refused to accept that he was gay (oh, did I neglect to mention that bit?!) and kept flirting with him.

Watching her really makes me understand where the naughty side of me comes from and also how cringeworthy it is. I really hope I do it with more style than she does but I suspect I don't! Elliot didn't seem to mind - he thought she was great.

We're going to keep in touch and he's going to come stay with us and he's invited all of us to visit him in Oklahoma. Sasha observes that we are "bezzies" which apparently means best/soul mates. I think she could be right !! Although there was some competition, as we walked round the town, as to which of us could get more male reaction. I think he won by a mile.

I only got a "ciao bella" once!

The Date

Matt has been very sweet to me recently. I think he may have finally understood that I’m not happy about our relationship but that I don’t have the energy to do anything about it at the moment, and he is doing everything he can to stop me from making that break again, or even thinking about it.

Last week, he told me that he wanted to take me out on a “date”. He said he was tired of being holed up in his flat with me and he wanted the world to see that he was part of my life. I told him that given this was an illicit affair, it was precisely the reason I didn’t want the world to see, and that I preferred the holed up option!

He was having none of it though and said that he had found a singing workshop that he wanted to go to, and that he knew I would love, and that was out of town. So he had booked us on it and after some persuasion, that’s where we went last night.

I have to admit, I had a great time! He picked me up from work and we went off for an early dinner before going to the workshop which was run by a guy who has worked with some big names.

Matt was very attentive throughout the evening – he kept kissing me, holding my hand or putting his arm around me. It really felt as if he was showing me off and I liked that. We had a lovely meal and I was quite happy to listen to him, as usual. He talked about Kelly and how she has been asking for some sort of commitment from him which is putting him in an awkward position as he doesn’t feel ready to give her that but neither does he want to give her up. I pointed out it would be easier for him if I wasn’t on the scene but he said that wasn’t an option. He said he was very fond of her but he didn’t feel about her the way he felt about me. I want to take that with a pinch of salt but I think I believe him.

The workshop was great. It was all about singing with confidence and I feel I have found mine again now after all this time. Oliver, the guy who ran it was fabulous. He had us all singing in different styles. He brought out the rock god in Matt and the operatic diva in me and he told me I had a fantastic voice and that I could definitely sing professionally if I chose to. In fact, he asked us if we would be interested in singing at a Showcase that he is putting on in October for people from "the industry" ! He didn’t ask anyone else in the group so that was a great ego boost. He also assumed that we were husband and wife as he told Matt that he was married to a very special woman. I was about to correct him but Matt jumped in and said he knew.

On the way home, he said he wished he could be my husband. I told him not to say such things but he said it was important I knew how deeply he felt. If I’m honest, I suppose that thrills me in some weird way.

The trouble is, it also makes me feel increasingly uncomfortable.

Etiquette

So I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about blogging – I know, sad isn’t it?

On my last post, I answered the comments that had been left. You know, individual replies for each comment. I never normally do that because I feel most of the posts I write are a record of what has happened to me or how I am feeling about a personal situation. Once I have published it is done – nothing more to say. Of course, I love reading the comments that are then left, which advise or sympathise or offer another way of thinking about things. But I have rarely replied apart from the odd general message of thanks for all the comments left.

This time I did though, and actually the process of doing that helped me a lot. It made me think about my situation a lot more. I do try and write honestly but actually the introspection needed to reply, helps all the more. It wasn’t easy though. …

I leave comments on blogs that I read where authors don’t respond back and that is fine – I don’t mind at all. But then, on other blogs, I leave comments where I do get an individual reply which I have to admit, makes me feel that what I’ve said was valued and appreciated.

So what I want to know is, what is the etiquette here? Is it rude not to leave answers to comments that readers have taken the time to write or is it quite acceptable?

Just so it is clear, I’m inviting answers so comments would be gratefully appreciated. Whether I answer or not though remains to be seen …..!!!

Trying To Talk

I’ve seen a lot of Matt since I went back to his flat from work that afternoon which explains why I haven't been blogging much or doing anything else much because I seem to be with him all the time. I haven’t felt good about it though.

The sex has been very urgent and he doesn’t let me leave easily without promising when I’ll be back and he texts and emails me all the time telling me how glad he is that I’m back and what he wants to do to me next time we're together. The thing is, however much I enjoy myself physically when I’m with him, I’m cross with myself for finding myself back here and I’m cross with Matt for being so smug about getting me back in his bed.

I tried to tell him this yesterday evening. In fact, before I got there, I told him I wanted to talk. We haven’t really done much talking since this all started back up again which I guess, is another reason I have felt a bit cheap.

When I got to his flat, we sat at his little table, which I don’t think we’ve ever done before. He poured out some wine and there were cigarettes next to the bottle. I don’t smoke and I wasn’t aware that he did so I asked what they were doing there and he said he suspected I was about to dump him again and so they were there to help him through the rest of the evening…even though he gave up years ago.

He’s very good at those disarming techniques. I almost decided against saying anything then but it was the smile playing around the corner of his mouth that made me realise that I couldn't let him play me.

I told him I wasn’t happy about the way things had just reverted to the way they were. That it wasn’t what I wanted and that I thought I had explained that in my email which I now felt he hadn’t read or taken any notice of at all. A discussion ensued where he pretty much said he had read my email but actually it didn’t matter because he was more concerned with where we were now and that he knew I wanted him as much as he wanted me so why was I making a big deal of something we were both enjoying. He said that actually he had shown me huge respect by staying away for so long, even though he had never stopped thinking of me – that he had dreamt about me at night and during the day until he had made a decision that he wasn’t going to carry on feeling like that if there was a chance that I wanted him back.

I felt we were getting nowhere fast because I didn't think he was hearing me, and then his phone rang. It was clearly a work call and not one he was pleased about. He paced up and down the hall and I could hear him shouting at whoever it was that they were completely incompetent. I was quite shocked, as in all the time I’ve known him I’ve never seen him angry. I picked up my keys and went over to the window and looked out at the amazing views from his eighth floor flat, as the sunset cast a fiery red glow over the river and the fields.

He came back clearly pissed off and not particularly happy to see me with my keys and my bag, ready to go.
“Where are you going?”
“I need to leave…..” but I hadn’t finished my sentence when he was by my side and had grabbed my arms.
“You’re not going anywhere Selina. I’m not going to let you leave me again. Can’t you hear what I’m saying to you? I’m completely obsessed, OK? I need you in my life.”

And then he was kissing me and the sex that followed was like nothing I’ve ever experienced with him. He was very rough with me, overpowering and almost forceful but still so full of passion that he took my breath away, literally!

Afterwards he was very gentle again.
"Please don't leave me Selina."

How can I? I feel trapped in his web of desire but actually, I don't want to make the effort to try and break free.

Happy Anniversary !

Today it’s a year since I started writing this blog.

It doesn’t seem like twelve months since I made the decision to embark on an online journal. Then, I thought it would be a good idea as I was having major issues about my age which I felt I needed to write down in a bid to get to the bottom of it all. Events took a turn almost as soon as I started writing it though and it has since turned into somewhat of a confessional, but still therapeutic.

I always thought I just wanted to write and not become part of some blogging community as I didn’t think that was me. But over the year that is exactly what has happened and I wouldn’t be without my cyber acquaintances – no dammit, friends in fact.

I usually try not to write with a view to being read but that doesn't mean that I don't enjoy that that lovely feeling of noticing a new comment at the end of a post. And the comments are always so nice - never judgemental even though I always expect them to be. In the last week or so, they have been so supportive and have helped in a way I never expected they could, so a big thank you to all who have taken time out, now and in the past.

It's been an interesting year. Soon after I started writing I came across John’s blog and he actually inspired me to write as honestly as possible because that’s what he did and it made for fascinating reading. He doesn’t seem to keep us updated so much these days but I still look out eagerly for new posts from him.

And then there’s Priscilla. I signed into my blog one day to find I had a second follower and I remember being soooo excited. I eagerly linked into her blog to find some very saucy, erotic writing. It made me blush ….. but I haven’t been able to stop visiting! I read it when no one else is around - my guilty secret – although she hasn’t posted for ages so I hope all is well.

I also love to read all the yummy mummy blogs – some who live so far away that they give me a completely different taste of life. They all make me remember, and sometimes yearn for, the time when my teenagers were tiny and the funny little things they did. It makes me appreciate them so much more when I look at how they have grown up into lovely young people that are a real source of pride to me.

Many have become friends who I correspond with beyond the blog on email and with some I have really opened up to in a way I just can’t with people in real life. That correspondence has been as therapeutic as the blog and I really value it.

There are some posts that are published by fantastic writers, Ian and Meggie to name but two, and I often visit them before I sign into my own blog as they always make me think for the day.

Lately too, there has been Steve, another great writer whose posts I really enjoy and who seems to be the wisest, cleverest man around and who always comments on what I write which I find such a huge compliment.

My French has improved big time over the last few months thanks to Georges. He writes in English as well and again he tells his story honestly and from the heart.

There are so many others as well but time is against me. However, I have to mention the youngsters like Decoybetty - she makes me laugh with her observations - and blogs with great photographs such as The Sagittarian who is leading me into very bad habits with her Tuesday tipple.

Have a look at them if you can. But in the meantime thank you to all who read me and who give me the pleasure of letting me read them.

Here’s to the next year!

The Funeral

Yesterday was Sean's funeral.

I went with Ewan. Nancy was there with her husband Will, as they are back together again, but she didn't say much as she's still not very well. She didn't look too good and at one pont she had to leave the service for a bit. I think it has hit her very hard and she was very tearful.
Dave was there with Zoe, his wife, and he brought his three girls along as well as they adored their Uncle Sean and he loved them all too.
And Ed was there. He arrived alone late, only seconds before the coffin entered and as he joined us, he announced that Carolyn gave birth to a baby boy earlier in the morning. It can't have looked good that we were all beaming as Sean was carried in but my smiles soon dissolved into tears as I watched his mother following the coffin, wth Jenny holding her arm - clearly supporting her physically and emotionally.

It was a very moving service. The church was packed and Sean's band led the music.
Jenny spoke of how lucky she was to have known him even for so short a time and that she knew she would never love anyone like that again. She said she didn't feel cheated but blessed and that set me off again.
Ed spoke about his very good friend and relayed a few amusing stories about Sean in that way that only he can, but his voice cracked towards the end as he told the congregation that he and Carolyn had decided the only name for their new baby son was .....Sean.
And as the coffin was caried away, his mum broke down completely and none of us could hold back the tears.

For me, the hardest thing was seeing him lowered into the ground. The finality of that was too much and I'm sure if Ewan hadn't been holding me up, I would have collapsed.

My dear friend has gone and I never told him just how special he was. I hope he knew.

I'll never forget him

Weakness

I thought I would go back to work yesterday to give myself something to do and take my mind off everything but I was pretty useless when I was there. I couldn't really focus or get down to what I should be doing and spent most of my time just looking out of the window, remembering various things about Sean.

For example, I remember going to lunch with him once and he told me off for having my mobile on the table which I kept looking at. It was a busy time for me at work then I think, but actually he was right. It had always been a failing of mine that I always used to have it out and be fiddling with it. He told me I used it as a security blanket - a way of showing others that I was important ...and wanted. He was so right! Since then, it has always remained firmly in my bag - rarely taken out in company. He was right about so many other things too and never scared to tell me. That's one of the reasons why I loved him so much.

I don't know how many times my eyes welled up and I got that lump in my throat. It didn't matter what I did, I just couldn't stop thinking about him.

And then my phone beeped with a text. It was from Matt.
"Are you missing me as much as I'm missing you?"

I should have ignored it but I replied saying that I couldn't really answer because I had just had some bad news. He immediately called and again I shouldn't have picked up but I did and before I knew it I was crying down the phone and telling him about Sean. He told me he was sorry, really sorry and asked what he could do to help. I said nothing and then he asked if I wanted to go over to his - just to talk. I should have said no but of course, I didn't .....

I ended up spending the afternoon with him. In his bed. I hate myself for having no strength of character.

Grief

The funeral will be on Tuesday.

In the end, it was just Dave who came round yesterday. Nancy wasn't well and Ed's wife, Carolyn, is due any day now so he can't be too far from her.

I was right in assuming that Sean had told Jenny not to tell us anything so she thought it was just easier to cut off all contact. Dave spoke to her when she broke the news and he said she was in a really bad way. Even though she had been with him every day and watched him dying, it has still hit her hard. We're going to have to rally round her and look after her as Sean would have wanted.

Apparently, he was in a lot of pain in the last week or so and the morphine seemed to hardly help. He was pretty much out of it at the end but late on Sunday night, she looked up from her book and he was watching her. He motioned that he was thirsty and she gave him some water on a sponge. He smiled at her and mouthed the words "I really love you. Thank you". And then, he closed his eyes. He didn't open them again after that, and early on Tuesday he just slipped away.
I still can't believe he's gone. I feel so empty and I don’t know what to do with myself. I can't focus on anything and I don't really want to speak to anyone. My mind is just a mass of blank fuzz.

I don't know how I'll make it through the week or how I'll get through the funeral. I understand about closure and saying goodbye but that also means it will be so final and I'm not sure I'm ready for that.

The News I've Been Dreading

I had just got into work this morning and was dealing with some of my messages when Dave called me. As soon as I heard his voice, I suddenly wanted time to stand still. I knew what he was going to say and I couldn’t hear it - I wasn’t ready. I wanted to be able to run away somewhere so that I wouldn’t have to acknowledge his words.

But they still came and I still heard them:

“He’s gone Selina. Sean’s gone. He died early this morning. Jenny just called me.”

I could feel something bubbling up deep within me. I could feel it getting bigger and I could feel it travelling right from the very pit of me, through my stomach, past my heart and up my throat. I could feel the waves it was making inside of me and I almost had to hold on to my desk as it then burst through my mouth and suddenly I was sobbing down the phone.

I could hear Dave but I couldn’t speak.

“Selina! …….Selina! …..You need to go home. Stop whatever you’re doing and go home. I’ll pick up Nancy and Ed and we’ll join you there. Can you hear me Selina? Go home.”

So that’s what I did. I don’t really know how I made it back here. I can’t remember who I spoke to at work. I must have looked a right state as I emerged from the office with my face all blotchy and red.

Now I’m home and waiting for the others. I don’t know what we’ll all do. Just remember him, I guess.

I can’t believe he is dead.

I really thought it was going to be all right. I wanted to believe that he would go into remission and come out of that hospice laughing and announcing that he was back. I tried calling Jenny a few times but her phone was always off and she never returned my messages. I suspect that was on orders from Sean as none of us had heard anything since that last night we saw him. Why did he cut us off like that? Why did he die? He was so bloody young – my age for god’s sake. This time last year, we went to a gig to see him play in his band and now, he’s gone. How can that be?

I can’t take it all in – I’m devastated.

The MP

I almost didn’t go to the garden party.

I tried to persuade the rest of the family that I had a headache but they all saw through it.
"It’s called ‘shame’ and you brought it on yourself so come and get it over with" said Sasha, clearly with great sympathy for her dear mother.

So I did go and actually, it was fun! The weather was glorious and Mr Actor didn’t seem to be there when we arrived so I relaxed quite quickly and got into the spirit of it all. Literally actually, as one of the neighbours provided free champagne cocktails for the first part of the afternoon and it would have been rude to say no……

For some reason, our local MP was in attendance. Although he does live in the neighbourhood he isn't in the immediate area so technically he shouldn’t have been there at all but I think he came as Errol’s guest, who is lives down the road and is something big in Westminster.

Anyway, the MP is short, fat and bald but I think he thinks he’s a bit of a babe magnet! To his credit he came out well in the whole MP expenses furore recently. According to the rules, he could have claimed for a second home but he chose not to. That aside, there is something quite sleazy about him. Maybe though, that’s just a required trait for MPs these days, I don’t know.

I know this guy quite well as to be fair to him again, he does attend lots of local events and works hard for his constituents. I got to know him a few years ago at one of our aftershow parties when the singing group had put on a bit of an extravaganza. He was very complimentary, said I had the voice of an angel, blah, blah. He was very entertaining and got a bit of a crowd round him as he recounted stories of Life At Westminster. Over the years, I’ve seen him at other events and he often comes to see our shows and he always heads straight over to say hello.

And that was the case on Saturday. We chatted for a bit and I laughed at his stories and he told me he was writing a book and asked if when it was done I would look after the publicity and I told him I would and to get in touch nearer the time and then suddenly he said, and admittedly he had drank quite a few of those champagne things, that he had always liked me!!

He was talking very loudly and kept going on about being entranced by my "heavenly smile and my twinkling eyes" and did I know how "absolutely gorgeous" I was and the effect I had on him since the first time he laid eyes on me. And as he slurred on, I realised that actually he was in fact very drunk and there was no where for me to escape to and I didn’t really know what to say and of course, at that moment, Mr Actor had to walk by ! He looked over and I’m sure he was shaking his head in vague disgust and I wasn't even doing anything !!

Fortunately, Ewan came to rescue me and the MP then told him what a lucky man he was to wake up to this "vision of pure beauty" every morning and then, his wife came from nowhere, took him by the arm and dragged him off without a word.

At that point two of my friends, Beth and Lisa came rushing over to find out what he had said because they too had just had the same treatment. I couldn’t work out whether I was relieved or disappointed!!

So, the question is - should I call The News Of The World …… ??!!

Garden Party

This weekend, it is our neighbourhood garden party. Every year, our street and the two on either side of us all get together in the locked, private communal garden that we all have access to at the end of our road. It’s a bit like the one in the film "Notting Hill" and there’s something about it being there just for us which makes an annual party quite a natural thing to have.

See, now I’ve started thinking about Matt again at the mention of "Notting Hill". He once told me that when he had watched it late one night, he was struck by how Elvis Costello’s "She" seemed to sum up how he felt about me and the next day he emailed me the lyrics that had struck him the most:

She
Who always seems so happy in a crowd
Whose eyes can be so private and so proud
No one's allowed to see them when they cry

She
May be the love that cannot hope to last
May come to me from shadows of the past
That I'll remember till the day I die

Me
I'll take her laughter and her tears
And make them all my souvenirs
For where she goes I've got to be
The meaning of my life is
She

I remember my heart jumping when he sent me that email. Stupid git! He’s clearly not thinking that about me now, given that I haven’t heard from him since I sent that email ending things. That’s good and that’s right but it doesn’t mean I’m finding it easy. No, I need to put him out of my mind – I don’t want to start dwelling on him again.

So, back to the party. It really is a lovely way to catch up with everyone and meet new people who have moved in over the year. Everyone brings food and drink and there’s lots of local talent. We have a couple of bands and Sasha and myself even did a set one year. Plus there’s a stiltwaker, magician, juggler and face painter that entertains the kids which makes it a great family event and we’re usually blessed with great weather. The fact that most people pitch up each year show that it is a good event.

The thing is……last year I embarrassed myself a little!

You see, we have an actor who lives at the end of our road – just opposite the gardens in fact. He’s not a famous name, more a "I know the face" and he often plays corrupt police chiefs or the criminal Mr. Big. He’s got that kind of hangdog face that seems to work very well in those roles.

Anyway, I’ve always been most fascinated by him - I’ve got a real thing for actors – but he’s hardly acknowledged my existence even though our daughters go to the same school. Over the years, I’ve had the odd nod from him and very occasionally a smile and once he did actually say hello, I think. And I always giggle and generally go a bit silly so he passes by pretty quickly. I have to say that in the workplace I am not at all fazed by celebrity and never behave like this so I don’t know why I have never been able to string two words together in his company. Ewan thinks he’s a miserable sod who’s not worth the time of day and Sasha hates his daughter and so can’t understand why I’m so besotted with him and Kyle just thinks I’m weird, but then, he does anyway.

So, last year !

It was one of the only sunny days we had and so it’s fair to say that along with the sunbathing, a fair amount of Pimms had been consumed beforehand. I was probably already a bit merry by the time we arrived at the gardens! A little alcohol helps me lose my inhibitions and whereas some people don't like that, I don't mind giving up a certain level of self control.

Still more alcohol was then downed as I flitted from neighbour to neighbour chatting and laughing. And then, while I was with old Mr Evans from down the road who used to be a film cameraman in the old days and was regaling me with tales of how he used to regularly beat Omar Shariff at cards and what they used to get up to, The Actor joined us. I couldn’t believe it! And we all had a laugh and he seemed generally entertained by me and it was all going so well. And then we all wandered over to the drinks table with me now assured of my place as his "friend" until obviously, I ruined it all!

It wasn’t my fault! I reached for the red wine but somehow I missed, and knocked the bottle over and then watched in horror as a big crimson patch crept over the crotch of his cream chinos. And yes, I did that thing of trying to mop it up while he desperately tried to fend me off and away from his private area! It was awful. I couldn’t apologise enough but he stalked off back to his house as Mr Evans roared with laughter and I was as red as that spilt wine.

I haven’t even had a smile from him whenever I’ve seen him since. He hates me and now I’ve got to face him again tomorrow!

Needless to say, I won’t be drinking !!

A Day In The Life

As soon as my radio alarm goes off, I wake up quickly to turn it off. It used to take three hits of the snooze button when the radio was set to the mellifluous tones of John Humphreys on the Today programme but somehow, the dial found its way to some ghastly local radio station with a presenter who has the most awful voice and talks utter tripe and so I’m up as soon as possible to stop his dreadful diatribe.

I usually then pad down to the kitchen to make that all-important first cup of coffee for my husband and myself and after I’ve taken him his, I head onto the patio with mine and have five minutes or so in the fresh air. I do that throughout the year unless it’s raining and then I just look out at our garden through the window. I love it – it makes me feel peaceful and helps me set out my thoughts for the day ahead.

That luxury means that I then rush around getting ready, either while listening to Today or half-watching Breakfast TV just so that I know what’s happening in the world and can talk semi-intelligently on current affairs if the need arises. There’s usually some shouting involved as the kids take their time and husband chooses to enter the shower just as I am about to but eventually we’re all ready.

I can’t face breakfast so the husband sorts out something for him and the kids and then, one by one, we all set off for where we need to be.

Sometimes, I work from home or sometimes I head straight to an event or to a meeting with a client but mostly, I go to the office. I work in senior management for a major PR company and we can be involved in anything from small news conferences to major celebrity galas. It’s challenging work that’s always different and I get to meet a lot of interesting people. My day can be spent with clients or planning events or attending functions and it can be long. When I get in, my assistant usually gives me a wad of messages which is the first thing I get on with. Then, I find out where we are with the various projects we are working on, ready for a daily meeting we have around mid-morning when the teams report on their progress and where we allocate any new jobs that have come in. They’re a good bunch of people and there’s a lot of laughter. I don’t think I would have stayed there so long if that hadn’t been the case.

I’ll usually be besieged by runners through the day who keep plying me with coffee and the occasional muffin and/or cake. It’s most tiresome! If I’m not meeting a client for lunch, they’ll usually get me a sandwich or a salad which I’ll have at the desk although if it’s a nice day, I’ll sit in the park or take a walk by the river.

We’ve been encouraged to twitter by the big bosses but personally, it’s not for me. There are enough young things in the office who do it and use it for following stories but it’s a step too far for me. I do keep a personal blog which is as basic as it could possibly be, which just records what is happening in my life - no pictures, no gizmos, just words and they have proved to be most therapeutic. I tend to write that at home but I have been known to do it at work when it is quiet and I will often deal with personal emails there too, if I have the time.

If we have no evening functions, I try to leave work as early as possible so that I can spend time with the family who are often neglected when work is busy. My mother lives with us (she moved in after my father died ten years ago) and usually has a meal on the table for when we get back, which we sit down together to enjoy. That is a real luxury that I know I’m blessed to have. It’s so special to spend proper time together talking about our day. I have a teenage daughter and son who are both doing well in their respective schools and of who we are very proud.

The evenings for me are usually spent catching up with household chores and making sure the kids have what they need for the next day and then I’ll flop down in front of the TV with my husband. Often, he’ll wake me up as I’ll have fallen asleep on his shoulder, dribbling usually! Then, it’s up to bed where I’ll try to read for a bit but usually don’t make it through more than a couple of chapters before I’m asleep again.

My husband likes to sleep with his arms around me and that’s a nice way for me to drift off away from the world into the black comfort of sleep. Usually I sleep very well, very deeply. Sometimes though, I talk in my sleep and have often woken up to find him asking me questions! Going back to sleep takes a while then as I stress about all the things I might have just given away ……!