Selina Kingston Is Forty

Stop Press !!

2011-12-22T07:20:00.004Z

Rushing to get Christmas sorted ( I haven't even written all my Christmas cards yet) but had to stop to tell you all that......Kyle has been offered a place at Oxford !!

We're all so excited and proud. He keeps reminding us that he has to get 3 As but I'm confident he will do that if he works hard.

We went out to celebrate yesterday and I had far too much champagne but I don't think it was the fizz that was/is responsible for this incredible high !

Update

2011-12-05T08:32:00.001Z

It has taken me weeks to get round to my poor neglected blog and I think Twitter is to blame. I’m completely addicted and I still don’t really see the point of it. I need to take a step back and stop looking at it at every opportunity and posting inane comments. I need to find the balance ….

Meanwhile, and far more importantly, Kyle has been called for interviews at Oxford University this week. He will be there for three days, which sounds like some interview process. I’m so proud of him and incredibly excited but he seems remarkably calm. It doesn’t matter what happens now, I just think he has done amazingly well to get to this stage

Picture me now with a beaming smile …..

Twittering Away

2011-11-11T08:31:00.001Z

Wait for it! You’re not going to believe this … but I am now on…. Twitter !!

It was a struggle.

Until now, I’ve left all this social networking to the younger people in my team at work who seem to be on Facebook all the time. It has just never appealed to me although I have increasingly noticed that at events, people I meet often invite me to find them on Facebook or LinkedIn! Why do that? Why not just give me a good, old-fashioned business card ?

Anyway, recently I have noticed that my colleagues have been keeping abreast of news and events by following Twitter and so when I expressed a vague interest in how it works, one of them took me aside and showed me, with great delight, just how useful it is, as a PR tool.

So, I have become a convert and now I tweet away. Initially, I just stalked a few people and companies and then I started putting out a few tweets about events we were involved with and now I regularly treat the world to my personal insights and I seem to have amassed quite a few followers.

I’m a bit disappointed that I enjoy it so much as I wanted to maintain my curmudgeonly attitude to it all. But it’s OK as I can still do that with Facebook ! Thing is, I totally get Twitter as a work aide but I don’t really understand the pleasure I get in announcing that I’m about to watch #Jamie Oliver. Who cares?

Also, I follow a few celebrities (some of whom I have actually met) but I keep falling into the trap of thinking when they tweet, somehow they are interested in my response …amongst the thousands of others they get ! And then I feel stupid that I did it, and that everyone can see what I sent, even though I’m not doing it as a pathetic fan desperate for attention but as someone who has interacted with them in the past ….even if only for a few minutes. I must stop doing that, but it’s still a learning process.

I’m afraid you probably won’t find me, if you look, as I’m there under my @realname but if you are on Twitter and notice an unfamiliar follower reading your tweets, you may find you do know her after all !

Tweet-tweet !!

Pride And Joy

2011-11-07T14:10:00.002Z

Warning: severe gushing about to be unleashed. Read on with care!

I do love my children. They make me so proud.

In August, Kyle found out he got an A in all his AS-level subjects and an A* in the A-level he took a year early. We are very proud of him and for the first time, he has started to believe that actually he is capable of great things. His school have been telling him for some time that he’s a potential Oxbridge student but I don’t think it was until he got these latest results that he started to believe it. And so he agreed to apply to Oxford to study law! It’s all so exciting.

We went at the end of September to one of the open days and it’s such a beautiful place. It would be such a privilege to study there. Obviously I’d be the proudest mother in the world if he got in but I’m trying really hard not to allow my thinking to influence him. After that trip though, I can see he’s keen l Their sporting facilities are second to none and he’s even talking about taking up rowing !!

Anyway, he re-wrote his personal statement and last month, he had to take the LNAT (Law National Admission Test) which forms part of his application and he thinks it went OK…. though he has moments of anxiety that maybe he completely misunderstood the essay question. Anyway, we’re all waiting now to see if he gets selected for interview.

And it’s not just my son who is causing my pride-ometer to rise….

Sasha is now writing her second musical for the youngsters at the youth centre where she helps out. After attending a residential composers’ course in the summer, she came back full of ideas and spends all her time at the piano. I’m so impressed with her. She’s turned into such a beautiful, compassionate young woman. She is now part of the management team for the soup kitchen where she has also been helping out for about a year and she has done some serious fund-raising and found them some local sponsorship.

Her relationship with young Freddie seems to be going from strength to strength and he is so proud and supportive of her. I hope she hangs on to him – he is lovely and they are a really handsome couple. He took her to his university ball last term and the photos were amazing. I bought three !

I must keep my dreams in check though. As much as I can see myself saying things in a very posh voice, like “My son? Oh yes he’s a student. Where? Oh, at Oxford. Oxford University” !! …..or, picturing myself in tears as I watch Freddie’s reaction to my beautiful Sasha coming up the aisle on her father’s arm in the most amazing wedding dress….. I must stop myself from getting too carried away or I’ll end up being disappointed and worse, I’ll subconsciously pile on the pressure for the two people I love most in the world.

I don’t need to look ahead though because whatever happens they have made me so proud already.

I’m a very lucky mum.

Decision Made

2011-10-12T08:50:00.004+01:00

Thank you for all your lovely comments and emails.

I thought about it long and hard and I have decided not to publish here. Not yet anyway ! I’ve found a writers group that offers feedback and advice for each other at whatever point they are with their writing. I thought I would give that a go and will go along to their next meeting in a couple of weeks

Meanwhile, I’m still writing my short stories and have now amassed quite a collection. I may well just drop one into the blog every so often when I can’t think of anything else to write.

But for now, this will stay as a record of my life…..although I may, just may, have to change the title, very soon !!

The Urge To Write

2011-09-12T08:37:00.001+01:00

In the last few months, as I’ve been travelling from one end of the country to the other, I’ve started writing. I’ve had a book in my head for some time but I’m always pushing it away as I want to write it when I have time to sit down and just do it, rather than trying to fit it in between so many other things.

One day, when I was on one of my long train journeys, I suddenly thought of JK Rowling and how she apparently formulated Harry Potter on the train to Manchester. I also happened to be on the train to Manchester !!

So, I started to put down on paper the elements of my story and the characters …..and it felt really good. The words were just flowing from my pen with hardly any effort and I got very excited at the thought of writing it. I was planning to start it on the journey back but I was so tired that I slept all the way. And since then, I haven’t been able to get back into it. It’s as if something is physically stopping me.

I’m guessing it’s fear. All the time that the book was in my head, it was a bit of a fantasy that I could dismiss fairly easily as something to be done in the future. After putting down my thoughts on paper though, it has become much more real and I could end up writing this and it could be rubbish. I don’t have a clue how to write a book. I don’t even know if I have style that would or could engage readers. So I have not gone back to it at all. I’m such a coward.

However, whenever I travel by train now, I have an irrational desire to write. I probably should just write the book and then put it away and look at it again next year, or something. But like I said, I can’t. So instead, I have found that by watching people on the train, ideas suddenly pop into my head and I have now written a number of short stories.

I don’t know if they’re any good but I have just read the first one, which I wrote a couple of months ago and I think I like it but I really want to get some honest opinions. I don’t know if I have the guts to publish it here and I may never be able to do it……..

…..but, if I were to put it on this blog, would you be willing to read it and give me your brutally frank, critical opinions ???

Did You Miss Me ???

2011-09-05T09:50:00.003+01:00

Oh, it’s been a very long time !

Lots of reasons. Primarily work. In June, we were given a last-minute contract to work on a huge project and so everyone in the company has dropped everything to concentrate on what we need to do. My role has seen me travelling up and down the country, meeting with various people and although I do love that, it has been so incredibly tiring.

In between that I have had to fit in with my family, trying to join them for bits of holiday in Cornwall, the Peak District and Ireland. They seemed to be quite happy carrying on without me!

And then, in the odd bits of time I have had free, I’ve tried to blog but I often couldn’t access my site. When it did let me log on, I had no access to my blogroll of fellow blogger sites or to my followers. I can’t tell you how frustrating that was, especially as sometimes it would let me comment on some blogs but most of the time, it wouldn’t even let me type in the comment box.

I toyed with the idea of giving it all up, especially as the next year is going to be so busy for me but the thought of that was too distressing and so I persevered whenever I had an opportunity. And then finally this week, (and don’t laugh, you all know how technically rubbish I am!!), I noticed a warning that I swear I never saw before, that said my blog was no longer supported by Internet Explorer. OK, OK, I can hear you all laughing, but why should I know that ??!! So, I’ve switched browsers and now I have my precious blog back to how it was, with pictures of followers and My Blog List back and I can’t tell you how happy I am – it’s as exciting as when I first started. I just have to hope that you lot are all there and haven’t abandoned me. We shall see ………

Anyway, thanks for those who emailed and commented, wondering where I was. It was nice to be missed.

And for those of you who didn’t, DID YOU EVEN REALISE I WAS GONE ????

Trying My Hand At Adult Behaviour

2011-06-18T09:09:00.002+01:00

Since Matt, I have tried very hard not to allow my head to be turned by men and their flattery.

I realised a while back that until now, I have let that happen too easily. Someone would start to flirt and I would flirt back and before I knew it I would be in a situation that I didn’t know how to get out of. And so, on three occasions in my married life an affair has started and on numerous other occasions I have just cut off contact with various men in a bid to rid myself of difficulties. That in turn, has caused me all sorts of anxieties about what the other person must think of me, leading me to dislike myself more for getting into that position in the first place.

Oh, I’m so ridiculous.

Anyway, I’ve decided to take more control. Not so difficult now I have to admit, because I notice that as I get older, there is not so much attention. Tracy Emin said it best in a recent interview, when she said women of our age suddenly become invisible and it takes some getting used to !!

However, saying that, Norman has shown an interest !

He is one of our Directors and he has a fearsome reputation. He knows what he wants, he always gets results, he doesn’t tolerate fools and he shouts…. a lot. He has never really been involved with me and my team but whenever we have been at a meeting or in a room together, he has studiously ignored me.

In spite of that, or maybe because of it, I've always been quite fascinated by him.

He’s in his sixties and not an obviously good-looking man but he keeps himself trim and dresses well and actually there is something quite attractive about him. The fact that he’s brusque and seems to get bored easily, seems to add to the appeal.

Anyway, a few months ago, he wandered into my office and threw a folder down on the desk. “I was told you might be interested in this so you are welcome to it as it doesn’t do a thing for me. If you don’t fancy it, find someone else to do it.” And with that he stalked out again.

I looked in the folder and it was a brief to work with a very well known dance company and exactly the sort of thing I love. So, I made a few calls and it wasn’t long before I was on the case. A few weeks later, I got an email from Norman asking how it was going. I told him it was going well and thanked him belatedly for passing the job on to me. I cheekily added that he should have given it a go as it was fun and I had already got a free dance class out of it. He messaged back that dancing wasn’t his idea of a good time and when I asked him what was he told me to take a double expresso into his office and he would tell me. Given that this man had never shown any interest in me until now, I decided to do just that. And actually, that afternoon in his office was very entertaining as he told me a lot about himself and revealed that he had often wanted to talk to me as he was impressed with the way I worked and fascinated by my loud laugh.

The next day he asked me out to lunch and since then, that has been a regular thing and we have become quite good friends.

That whole gruff thing is a bit of a front and actually, I have realised that the people who work with him have a huge amount of respect for him despite the fact that he shouts a lot. He’s very intelligent and is very up on his news and current affairs. In addition, he loves reading, especially anything to do with history and goes to the theatre as often as he can. Trouble is, he has no one to share it with. His wife left him a long time ago as their marriage fell apart when their eldest child died suddenly and he took refuge in his work. From what he says, it seems he doesn’t feel worthy of a partner which is a great shame. He knows women like him but he feels that they are drawn to him because he has money and anyway, the whole business of trying to meet the right person, he says, takes too much energy.

I know he likes me. The old me would, for some reason, have made it easier for him to make a move but I have been very aware that I have kept up a guard to stop him crossing any line. He will often say that he wishes he could meet someone like me who is funny and intelligent and I immediately then talk about Ewan so that he knows I’m not available. Trouble is, I think my natural flirtatiousness sends mixed messages so he doesn’t really know where he stands. I feel quite sorry for him really but I’m trying to behave like an adult so that I don’t have to suddenly stop meeting up with him as I really would miss his company.

It’s hard but I think I’m finally learning !

Back To Therapy

2011-06-10T09:00:00.000+01:00

I signed on to an anger management course and yesterday I went along to the first of six group sessions.

I’m not going to document every last detail but I thought some of what was said was very interesting. It’s probably what most people know but for me it was a bit of a revelation.

Namely, that:
a) anger is a natural emotion – a simple release of energy
b) it’s OK to be angry because it is part of the human condition
c) anger is a way of saying “no thank you”, “I don’t agree with that” or “stop it”
d) anger can be healing
e) we shouldn’t tell our children that they shouldn’t express their anger or that anger is bad
f) it is what we do with our anger that may not bring benefit so we should use it as a tool
g) it’s not helpful to hold in anger as that repression often leads to rage which is not a good thing.

Over the next few weeks, we’ll be learning how to use anger as a tool and how to cut off the path to rage in “healthy, non-threatening and non-damaging” ways.

Watch this space ….

Talking About Myself

2011-06-04T17:09:00.006+01:00

A friend emailed this to a group of us and said that I was the only one likely to answer as I loved talking about myself. Bloody cheek….but there may be some truth in it ! Anyway, I’m ignoring him but I couldn’t resist filling it in and posting it here. And he’ll never know !

Feel free to pick it up and run with it if you so choose !!

Who were you named after?
No one, as far as I’m aware

Do you like your handwriting?
It depends on the pen which is why I always like to use good pens for that very reason. I can’t be doing with a scratchy biro !

If you were another person would you be friends with you?
Of course! I’m great fun and a good confidante and genuinely interested in other people. It’s a shame that I’m not another person as then I might begin to like myself !!

Do you still have your tonsils?
No! They were whipped out when I was just five! Imagine that! I don’t think they do that to children so young, these days

What is your favourite cereal?
I don’t really do breakfast unless it’s a weekend when Ewan does his famous big fry-up. If I had to choose, I would say Crunchy Nut Cornflakes

Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?
Hell, no !

What colour knickers and shoes are you wearing?
Well funny you should say that ….. I always wear matching bra and knickers and today they are red because we went out to lunch with friends and I wore a red top and so my shoes are red too but obviously I don’t consciously set out to match my shoes to my undies!!

What was the last thing you ate?
I had pie and mash for lunch, when I should have had a simple salad but the whole e.coli thing put me off the healthy option and I went for big chunks of steak in ale instead !!

Favourite sport to watch
Tennis, although I admit it’s more fun watching any big England match with a group of people who shout as loudly as I do !! However, I have left Ewan in the pub to do that without me today (although I've got one eye on the match as I write this !)

Do you wear contacts?
No. I was told I needed glasses a couple of years ago but I have been too vain to wear them that often and I’m too squeamish to try contacts

Last movie you watched
Face/Off – which I recorded last weekend. I don’t know how I’ve missed it until now as I rather like Nicholas Cage and I have been in love with John Travolta since I was just a girl! I didn’t expect much but I thought it was brilliant and I was hooked right from the start. I love a good action film !!

What did you watch on TV last night?
I had to watch Dr Who again ready for this evening, as I didn’t really understand what was going on last weekend !!

Not The First Time

2011-05-31T07:30:00.001+01:00

After much pressure from family and friends and the clear message from your comments and emails (for which I am very thankful), I did report the incident and the police were surprisingly sympathetic and confident that they could find the culprit

I’ve been a bit wary since the incident last Monday but not scared. When I told my colleagues the next day at work, four of the women said it had happened to them. For one it had happened twice. Nice.

Anyway, soon after writing that last post I suddenly remembered something that happened when I was very young. Not a mugging but a similar incident – one that I had pretty much forgotten

I was about 13 and I was coming home from a piano lesson just a couple of streets away. I had turned the corner on to my road and a car passed me and beeped. The driver was looking round at me but I didn’t recognise him. He stopped the car, got out and held open the back door, As I got nearer, he said “Hello love, you look nice. Get in and we’ll go for a drive.”

I said no thanks and tried to walk on but he blocked my way and said with a smile
“Come on love, just get in the car.”

I didn’t know what to do then and he moved forward but fortunately a neighbour came out of his house and shouted something. The guy ran into his car and raced off.

Mr Blackstone came running over to me to see if I was OK and like Nathan he walked home with me and rang the bell. When my dad opened the door he told me to go inside which I did and then he must have told my dad what he saw.

Dad was fussing over me then all evening and asking if I could remember what he looked like and if he touched me and I remember being very blasé about the whole thing. After all, I hadn’t felt scared at any point. I clearly didn’t realise the potential danger of it all.

I’m guessing my parents didn’t involve the police as I don’t remember ever speaking to them, or anyone else about it. However, thinking about it now it probably explains why Dad pretty much gave me a lift everywhere after that until I started driving myself. All my friends thought I was terribly spoilt but he was clearly scarred by what could have happened to his precious little girl, whereas I just put it out of my head ……until now.

The Law Of Attraction

2011-05-25T06:30:00.001+01:00

I thought this might happen one day and on Monday evening, it did.

I got mugged.

It happened on my way home from work, on my own street! I had just turned the corner and I saw this black guy a little way off walking towards me. His hoodie was up and his jeans were typically halfway down his legs with chains hanging off his pockets. I remember fleetingly wondering if I should cross the road and then got really annoyed with myself for thinking like my mother, so I stayed very firmly on my intended route.

It all happened very quickly and silently.

As he passed me, he suddenly pushed me against the wall and tried to pull my bag away. I had it over my shoulder and was holding on to it and stupidly I thought, “You’re not having this. Ewan got it for me at Christmas and I’ve only just started using it so no, piss off!” and I pulled it back. He then grabbed both my arms, pulled me forward and hit me across the face.

It’s strange as it all seemed to happen in slow motion and so I sort of saw it coming and managed to steel myself against it. I think because of that it didn’t hurt as such but the force threw me back against the wall and I saw stars…just like in the cartoons!

He probably would have got my bag then but my neighbour Nathan was just getting out of his car and he shouted out and ran over. He’s a big guy and so my attacker scarpered.

The whole thing was over in a matter of seconds and I didn’t have time to be scared really. But Nathan was such a hero. He doesn’t even live here anymore as he and Tamsin split up a while back but he comes over regularly to see the children. He walked me to my door and tried to persuade me to call the police but I knew it was pointless. I don’t even remember what this guy looked like and he didn’t get my bag in the end, so what’s the use?

My face isn’t marked or swollen and I’m not in any pain but I do admit to feeling slightly shaken. I rarely ever bruise but this has left me with a huge blue-black patch on the inside of my right arm where he grabbed me. There’s a tiny one in the same place on my left arm but it’s the right one that is really a beauty and I’m almost quite proud of it, in a ridiculous way.

I should be much more upset about the whole incident but I’m not. It’s not bravery – I just think it’s a kind of resigned acceptance that something like this was bound to happen at some time or other.

My mother had a chain snatched from her neck many years ago and since then I’ve almost been waiting for my turn. Unfortunately, it’s probably just part of life if you live in or around London.

Ewan strongly disagrees and says it actually proves the law of attraction which he is really into. That because I’ve been expecting it, it happened.

Maybe I should apply that to, oh I don’t know, a millionaire lifestyle ??!!

Duh !

2011-05-14T08:46:00.000+01:00

As many of you will know, I’m not very technically minded and so, this is a call for some advice.

Can anyone tell me why I can no longer see the pictures of my followers on my blog? I can’t see a list of them on my dashboard either.

I’m worried that this is the beginning of the end and I’m going to log on one day and find I have no blog and it will be my fault for neglecting it so much recently!

Anyway, if you know the answer and what I need to do to get them back, please reply in words as near to one syllable as possible, because you are dealing with a complete dullard !!

Analyze This

2011-04-18T07:57:00.002+01:00

I’ve been thinking about the whole therapy thing

I remember when I started. It really felt like the right thing to do. Something I needed in my life and at the start, the whole talking thing was something I found really valuable. Especially as it isn’t something I do easily. People think I talk a lot and don’t get me wrong, I do. In fact, I can talk and talk and talk …..but it's never about anything of worth, nothing consequential. It's all just amusing anecdotes, or where I have been or what I've been doing. All in a bid to entertain others and make them want to be around me but nothing that gives anything real away.

In the end, during those sessions, I talked around problems and OK, maybe a better therapist would have guided me more carefully into the troubled areas, but actually just talking, filled a void for that time in my life.

Now I’ve come to the conclusion that even with the best counsellor in the world, therapy really isn’t for me.

We all suffer from feelings of inadequacy no matter how shiny and bright we appear on the outside. I know that lots of friends my age are anxious and stressed about a whole load of things ranging from balancing home and work life through fretting about how they look and what shape they are, all the way to pure despair at how fast life seems to be passing them by and the mistakes that leads them to make.

All those things have bothered me at some point, and I definitely keep making stupid mistakes, but those same problems haven’t been made better by talking them through with the therapist. That may have offered temporary relief but no solution. Effectively, it was like constantly picking at a scab and so not allowing it to heal. I found I was analysing and thinking about my life in a rather pointless manner. Who am I? What do I want? I don’t bloody know - what do any of us want? To be happy I guess, it’s not rocket science. If anything is truly depressing it’s that I have probably lived over half my life now and I still don’t have any real answers to anything of worth.

If I’ve realised anything over the last few weeks, it’s that actually, do you know what, it’s OK to be angry with myself and with others. It’s OK not to feel particularly worthy or to feel vulnerable or to mess up from time to tome. But it’s not OK to dwell on any of it. I need to feel the emotion, live through it and then put it away but not allow it to dictate or colour what I do from then on.

There are other things too that I know I need to do. Such as learning to minimise the negatives in my life, because focusing on things that annoy me definitely tends to make me miserable and dissatisfied

All this seems to be what normal people do. DON’T analyse who you are and what you do or why you do it. Just forgive yourself and have the courage to like who you are.

That’s what matters at the end of the day. It’s not whether others like me, but that I do.

It may not sound much but that is a huge revelation to me and one that I may have to keep discovering before it finally makes an impact

Waking Up To Spring

2011-04-06T19:45:00.002+01:00

It’s a long time since I’ve written anything here.

I guess it’s because I haven’t had any real enthusiasm for anything and I’ve just been going through the motions. I haven’t been in a depressed state - I just haven’t been able to do more than I’ve needed to on any given day.

But I feel better now.

Maybe it’s because the sun is out and our garden is full of flowers but suddenly, I feel more like my old self and ready to be me again, if that makes sense. I want to put some serious work into getting over these negative feelings that constantly seem to bring me down.

That won’t be with the therapist though.

Last month, I told him that I wanted to end our sessions. He just nodded and asked me why. I said I didn’t think that actually I was getting anything out of it anymore and that I was going to focus more on anger management. He informed me that he could help with that, which was a bit awkward, but I insisted that I thought it would be best to start with someone new. I found it difficult to say, not helped by how he looked at me in that way he has, with his head on one side. He pointed out that we had rarely touched on my angry episodes and I said that was because I didn’t find them easy to talk about and that I was ashamed of my behaviour. He said that he thought after all this time I would have understood that the whole point of these sessions was to try and talk through the more unpleasant things. I agreed but said it wasn’t something I had been able to master.

He was silent for a while and then, out of the blue, he said “Do you think I like you?” I was a bit shocked and didn’t know what to say and so he repeated the question. When I said yes I thought he did, he asked why that was so important to me. I said that what people thought of me has always been important to me and the key to how I feel about myself and he mysteriously said “that’s the knub of it Selina - that’s what you need to work on”.

I should have got into the conversation but quite frankly I didn’t have the energy.

Anyway, he wouldn’t let me finish things at that session and said I should think it all over and give him my decision at our next meeting. However, I went home feeling very dissatisfied at that and a few days later I sent an email thanking him but saying that I wouldn’t be going back. He replied with just two lines “Thank you for letting me know. I wish you the very best for the future”

Now, I feel like I’m free again. I don’t know of what. To make a fresh start maybe, I’m not sure. But I do feel positive and that can only be a good thing.

Can’t it??

Trying To Move On

2011-03-08T08:54:00.004Z

Thank you so much for your supportive comments on my last post.

I was convinced that you would all be appalled and disgusted and maybe some readers were, but the messages suggested an element of understanding that touched me deeply, even though I acknowledge wholeheartedly that my behaviour was wrong.

I took the advice offered and wrote him a letter. I haven’t shown it to him but I did tell him about it and some of what it said. Maybe one day I’ll publish it here but it doesn’t really make any sense. It rambles on and on, part justifying part apologising but whatever, it DID make a difference writing it down – all four pages !

I’ve spent a lot of time talking with him since then and we’ve all been out as a family as well and it does help.

Trouble is, I can’t get over the fact that there is something fundamentally wrong with me.

I only see the therapist once every other week now and the week of the turmoil wasn’t the scheduled time. I called him to ask if he could fit me in. He said no but that he would give me extra time this week. As I put the phone down, I realised that actually there was no real point seeing him. I’d have told him what happened and he’d ask me what I thought the trigger was and we’d go round things like we have for the last few years. It’s not his fault - it’s just that I have become very practised at just talking but somehow avoiding the key issues.

We’ve only touched briefly on my hideous temper. I painted it as me being the unreasonable one who completely loses control while Ewan refuses to engage until I calm down, which makes me more angry. He asked me if I thought that actually that made Ewan the unreasonable one and to be honest, I don’t really remember the outcome. That’s the problem. I don’t remember much about the outcome of any the things we’ve discussed. I’ll tell him all this on Thursday but if nothing else I think I’ve come to the conclusion that the therapist, or at least this therapist, isn’t for me.

I wanted it to work. I tried to persuade myself that it was working, but it clearly isn’t.

Meanwhile, I’ve been going back over my blog and I saw this entry that I posted back in the beginning, two and a half years ago.

I think it’s clear evidence that I haven’t really moved on at all ……

Sasha and Kyle - The Children
I've already said I'm incredibly proud of them but I wonder.... I really wonder if I have been a good enough mother to them.

I am incredibly strict and expect them to behave in a certain way which they have done. Maybe I have inhibited them as a result. They seem fairly normal but who knows what they really go through.

Sometimes Sasha's eyes look very puffy and I don't know anything about why and I can tell she's not inclined to share the burdens in her life but we have the same sense of humour and many times when we talk we end up laughing and laughing until we cry. She is so sensible and I hope we end up as good friends as she is so wise and it will be her telling me what to do for the best very soon.

As for my son, I love him so much. He will always be my child though. I can't imagine him advising me on anything although he is incredibly intelligent and so I guess he will but I can't see a day when I won't be looking out for him.

How did I create such gorgeous children and why do I hold back from loving them completely? That is what makes me abnormal. That makes me a freak. A mother is supposed to love her children totally, beyond life itself. And yet, I don't know if I do. I can't imagine a world without them and I have such strong emotions for them but I think something isn't there.

I shout a lot at them - sometimes it's for no real reason. I think I yell because deep down, my life feels like it's in a mess and I have no control.

I hate myself I think - that's the real problem. If that's the case, how can I love anyone else...or expect them to love me

Speeding Downhill

2011-03-01T08:26:00.002Z

So my daughter seems very bright and breezy and convinced that everything will be OK. She’s been trying to joke with me that we’ll have a period party when the time comes but I’m not really amused. In fact, I’m seriously anxious. I’ve lost weight again as I just feel constantly sick.

Things haven’t been helped by the fact that my son, who up to now has been everything a mother could wish for, seems to be going off the rails.

He has been earmarked as a potential Oxbridge student and until recently he was doing really well. But all of a sudden he seems embarrassed by his success and has been going all out to impress his friends in other ways.

At the birthday/aftershow party we had a few weeks back, he brought some of his friends along. Not the usual boys he hangs out with who are very nice but some other lads who were very cocky and who thought it was funny to get drunk quite quickly, with no care that they were guests at my party and not at some pathetic teenage rave.

One of them even thought he could light up in my kitchen and I told him firmly that he had to go outside to smoke. Unfortunately, I noticed he took Kyle with him and I found out later that my precious son has been smoking for a while now.

That upset me.

My dad smoked heavily when he was younger and although he stopped eventually, I’m sure it contributed to the heart attack that killed him. I feel very ashamed that my son could be so stupid as to start such a pointless habit.

I told him the next day in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t happy and he promised me that he would stop. He said he didn’t know why he started and that he would put an end to it. Since then, I have noticed he smells of smoke when he comes in from school but he keeps saying that it’s because others smoke around him. I hate the lying and I told him I didn’t appreciate it, but he promised me that he wasn’t smoking anymore.

And then yesterday, I came back early from work as I had a headache and I thought I would stop by his school to see if he wanted a lift and there he was. Standing outside, with a group of scruffy little bastards, holding court, laughing and ….smoking.

I drove home alone and very, very angry.

When he got in, I said I could smell smoke and he just laughed and said very easily “for god’s sake mum, you always say that but I swear, I haven’t been smoking”

And then the red mist came down and I went into a rage.

I told him I saw him smoking with his nasty little friends and he said I was mistaken and I was so furious then, that I hit him. Hard. Round the head. And then I pulled his hair and yanked his head towards me and smelled his breath, and then hit him again.

I don’t know what happened after that but Ewan came down the stairs and shouted at me to calm down and I started shouting at him too. And, oh god, the whole evening descended into hours of real and bitter fury as I spewed out all the bile that seems to have been hidden so deep within me.

I hate myself so much

Today all I can think of is Kyle’s face when I went for him. Why did I do that ? I never hit them when they were growing up. I’m not part of the anti-smacking brigade but I just never thought it was the right way for me to parent as I was raised on regular, hard beatings from my mother and it never solved anything. Why did I hit him? Why did I get so angry?

I’ve realised today that however much I thought the therapist has helped me all this time, he hasn’t really. All these negative emotions are still there within me and they’ve never been resolved.

I feel so worthless, so drained. I don't want to get out of bed. If I could stay here forever I would.

I feel like I’m on the edge of something huge. That if I wanted to, I could let just go of what little control I might be holding on to and fall into a complete mental breakdown. Even as I’m writing I’m not sure that won’t happen. Maybe I should just walk into my local hospital and ask them to section me.

Before leaving for school just now Kyle came in and left a letter on my bedside table, apologising for lying and for making me so angry and pledging never to smoke again and promising to focus on his studies once more.

Trouble is, I don’t feel very forgiving even though I should be the one saying sorry. Instead I’m still angry – at Kyle, at Sasha, at Ewan, at my mother …….but most of all, at me

The therapist told me right at the start of my treatment that I had to learn to like myself. I thought I had but in truth, I don’t think I ever will

I despise me

Highs And Lows

2011-02-24T07:23:00.002Z

Isn’t it funny how you can feel so proud one moment and then desperately disappointed the next ?

My daughter is my pride and joy.

She is very like me in that she uses her charm and wit to get by rather than any great intellect. She’s very easy to get along with and is popular amongst her friends. She likes to party and she is fun to be with but unlike me, she is NOT a flirt.

I marvel at how she just converses with the opposite sex without all the flicking of hair and ridiculous pouting that I habitually resort to, even at this stage of my life. She doesn’t need the approval or admiration of men to validate her existence.

Over the years, she has mocked me when I have warned her not to let men have any power over her and to always stay in control . She calls me a man-hater and laughs when tell her I don’t want to see her hurt or heartbroken

She never really had a serious boyfriend. She was sort of seeing the vicar’s son – a painfully shy boy called Huw. He brought out the worst in me as I would often burst in on them in the sitting room and watch him spring away from her as he then went beetroot red. I couldn’t help it – it amused me greatly! Almost as much as walking round the house singing “the only one who could ever move me, was the son of a preacher man” at the top of my voice. She told me I was cruel …..but very funny, and that she knew full well I was just trying to stop her getting too involved.

Since September though, she has been seeing Freddie. He was in the year above her at school and now he’s in his second year at university in London – studying maths. They were always great friends and then it suddenly became something more.

And this time it’s different.

They have become very close, very quickly. He is lovely – everything you could wish for in a boyfriend for your precious daughter. He’s tall, good-looking, kind, clever, affectionate, supportive, caring and he’s always very polite to us. To be honest, I’m a bit in awe of him and I don’t want to ruin what could be something very special and important in her life …..but I do worry for her.

She told me once they started sleeping together, which was only three months into their relationship. I’m pleased she felt close enough to let me know but it did upset me and I was very emotional at the time. I would have hoped that she could have waited longer, though she said that they didn’t need to as they already knew each other so well as friends. She insists he didn’t push her into anything she didn’t want to do.

I know I have no right to be so disapproving, especially given my own past. And I am genuinely pleased that she feels she can talk to me about it, but deep down I don’t really want to know. I almost feel I have let her down by being so accepting about it. Perhaps I should have shouted at her for letting him have his way so quickly but then she does seem to be genuinely fond of him and so perhaps it was a natural step in their relationship.

The thing is, yesterday she came into my room and lay on my bed and said she was having a crisis. She told me that the previous night when she stayed over with him, the condom they were using split……and that she had just taken the morning after pill.

This is my daughter. The baby I held in my arms. My beautiful toddler with the mass of curls. The talented girl who brought the house down just a couple of weeks ago with her own show. Telling me, almost casually, that she had just taken the morning after pill

I tried to stay calm telling her that pill is not just another method of contraception and that she had to be careful and not take risks with her future in such a way and she just kissed me and told me to be calm and that everything would be alright.

I have gone from an amazing high to an incredible low in what seems the shortest space of time and now, I cant stop crying.

Best Ever Present

2011-02-18T06:46:00.001Z

It was my birthday last week.

When I was young, I used to love it. The cards, the presents, the attention …..

Nowadays, not so much !! Birthdays represent another year gone. Another year possibly wasted. Further proof that I am no longer young. Increased pressure to admit that I am NOT actually forty. In fact, I’m nearer ff..fi..fif...fifty ! No ! Birthdays now, mean increased angst and mental torture …..

However, this year, I was positively counting the days to my special day because it was also the premiere of my daughter’s musical.

It had been on the calendar for a couple of months and so I thought it was the ideal opportunity for a party afterwards as an added incentive to get friends and family to turn up and support her. As it was, I needn’t have worried, as all three shows were a sell-out with people queuing outside for tickets and some even turned away.

And the show was amazing!

Eleven songs, all written in the last few months, one even in the fortnight running up to the show when she realised the second act just needed something. I can’t begin to tell you how much she has impressed me. The whole thing was fabulous.

During one number, I found myself crying - not just because the song was very moving but because I couldn’t stop thinking that my daughter, my little girl, had written it. Written the whole show. It was her vision on that stage. And she’s only 18!

And the kids were brilliant. They performed it so well - sang so beautifully and spoke so clearly. They did her proud.

And any thoughts I may have had that perhaps I only thought it was good because my daughter wrote it were completely blown away when the audience erupted into cheers and wild applause at the end. They were standing and clapping for the final encore and then there were sustained shouts for “author, author”.

She didn’t come forward at first and then, her beautiful blushing face peeped through the curtains to further cheers until she was pushed out on stage. At that point, I thought I would actually burst with pride.

And then, she started speaking. She thanked the cast, musicians and crew for a wonderful performance. She thanked the audience for a fantastic reception that she could never have dreamed of. She talked of how she had been sick with nerves before the show, even though she is so used to singing and performing. That this time, she felt she had put herself out there in a way she never had before. And then, in what seemed like pin-drop silence, she thanked ……me. She told the audience that I had encouraged her love of music since was a little girl, and that she loved me, and hoped that she had made me proud, because she wanted to dedicate her musical to me as my birthday present.

And suddenly, everyone was cheering and whooping again and I was part blubbing into Ewan’s shoulder and part laughing and blowing her kisses. And all the time, she looked just like an angel on that stage. MY darling, precious angel.

We partied long and hard afterwards and even though I can’t remember how it all ended, I know that it’s up there as one of the best birthdays EVER !!

A Good Job, Well Done

2011-01-30T19:46:00.002Z

I am basking in the glow of a fabulous wedding !

Amanda and Hugh got married yesterday and it was a fantastic day. She looked stunning in her red and white dress.

But it also felt like my day as I had helped to plan the wedding and we were part of the beautiful service - Ewan read the classic Corinthians passage and Sasha and I had the privilege of singing during the signing of the register.

At the end of the evening, when we are all a bit drunk, Amanda gave me a big hug and told me that she never would have been able to do it without me and that I was the best friend anyone could ask for and before we knew it, we were both bawling and laughing in equal measure!

Knowing she had the wedding she had always dreamed of has made me so happy. I haven’t been able to drag myself out of bed today and my body is aching from too much dancing and carrying things up and down stairs but …I feel brilliant. The only thing is, I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself now.

Maybe I should start planning a wedding for my daughter………!

Failed Resolutions !

2011-01-26T15:42:00.001Z

After all my resolutions to create a better blogger/life balance, I realise I have failed so far!

But I have a very good excuse!

Do you remember Mandy and Hugh ?? Well Hugh proposed to Mandy soon after I wrote about them and they set the date for the end of January 2011 but then Hugh’s dad died and we all assumed that it would probably be postponed as Hugh was naturally very upset and not in wedding planning mode. However, at the end of October he told her that he wanted to go ahead with the original date.

At the beginning of December, I called Mandy to tell her I thought her wedding invitations were beautiful and she burst out crying and said that apart from the church and reception venue, nothing was sorted and that even the invitations and the guest list had been really difficult for her. She had dreamed of her wedding day for so long and now that it was here it seemed too big for her to manage. I felt so sorry for her so I immediately volunteered to help, as planning events is what I do!!

So that is what I have been doing since. I managed to fit in our family Christmas but mostly, Mandy and myself have been working on getting everything ready and it has been really busy as there is so little time.

But I have loved it. Really loved it !

I have been in my element, and taking the stress out of it for Mandy and watching her enjoying it all, has been brilliant.

It all happens this Saturday and I can’t wait. And afterwards, I’ll be able to get back to blogging properly, I promise ........

The End Of Another Year

2010-12-31T13:14:00.004Z

I had my forecast for 2010 prepared by a celebrity astrologer this time last year and I thought it would be interesting to go back and see what he got right .

He said:
- I would get a pay rise before my birthday in February …..WRONG !
- I may change jobs and even move home ……WRONG !
- Travelling abroad would be a distinct possibility…..WRONG !
- Although I have a good network of friends, I should nurture my friendships more as I could fall out with a few this year…..WRONG, though to be fair I have been pondering the meaning of friendship recently.
- My marriage will continue to be problem-free and we will work well as a couple….. well that was obviously WRONG to start with but things have been good this year
- I need to be careful about my health, as I will be prone to a number of common ailments like flu and stomach problems ….. I laughed that off at the time but it was the one he came closest to as I ended up in hospital in September and quite frankly, I haven’t been right since, so I’ll give him that one !
- My life still has a way to go before things will settle enough for me to start unravelling the knots ……RIGHT ! I have started “unravelling” but it feels as if there’s still such a lot to sort

So I think we conclude that on the whole our astrologer friend was …a bit crap. But that’s OK, he’s a nice guy so let’s just forgive him and move on!

Thinking back over the last year, my therapist has been good and my sessions are now down to once a fortnight on his advice. I do feel much better and that cloud of depression has certainly lifted. I guess the worry is that I’m aware of it still hovering in the distance and I don’t want it to come back. Blogging about what Ewan did helped a lot. I think the problem is that that in the current climate when money is tight, I am constantly anxious that there could be a repeat which of course puts a strain on him as he is constantly trying hard to prove to me that was a one off mistake but I can’t, or won't, forget it. That said, I have felt very warm towards him recently and we’ve been getting on well but somewhere deep down I’m still scared of something and so I know I’m holding back. We started entertaining more again this year and I really believe that has been good for us as it is what we used to do early on in our marriage.

My nephew Daniel got married this year but with a special wedding there is always a funeral. This year there were two – my darling young friend Maria and a newer friend, Anna, who died suddenly. That resulted in me nearly getting back with Matt but fortunately I saw sense and ended it with him once and for all in February. I just feel very embarrassed now about my whole fling with him. What was I thinking?

That feeling of foolishness deepened when I found out later in the year that what I thought was a very special relationship with Chris all those years ago, was really no more than just a notch on his bedpost as I learnt about a string of other women who thought they were “special”. I cringe every time I think about it

Much better not to think about any of that and instead, focus on my lovely children. This year Kyle got 10A*s in his GCSEs - I still can’t get over that - and Sasha has written her own musical which will go on stage early in 2011. I’m so proud of them both.

I found out just this month that I have an uncle, cousin and niece that I knew nothing about. We plan to visit them in the States sometime next year.

And that’s it really. Although I can't let pass that I hit a hundred posts this year. However, the blogging has slowed down considerably and I don’t get the chance to read and comment on my favourites as much as I would like. It’s good in a way as it means I’m now actually living my life again as opposed to just writing about it but doing it less feels like something is constantly missing. Maybe, hopefully, I’ll strike a happier balance in the New Year.

Oh well, just a few hours left. Time to “dance one year in, kiss one goodbye”. Who knows, maybe 2011 will be ….the perfect year ! Here’s hoping.

Happy New Year to you all xx

How Did This Happen So Quickly?

2010-12-23T18:22:00.000Z

I can’t believe it will be Christmas the day after tomorrow!

I have spent the last week still writing Christmas cards, buying gifts and food and drink, wrapping presents, preparing nibbles or fancy meals, entertaining and being entertained and I’m loving every last minute of the festive panic.

There’s more of the same over the next week so I don’t think I’ll be back here this year.

Therefore ……

Can I take this opportunity to wish you, my lovely blogging friends, a VERY happy Christmas and a brilliant New Year!

Have a good one! xx

Spreading Some Festive Cheer

2010-12-11T09:47:00.002Z

So, a few weeks ago, my blogging pal Rosie Scribble wrote a post saying how she had got a free TV simply by commenting on a fellow blogger’s post who had written about getting a free washing machine.

All these freebies came courtesy of Appliances Online

She invited her readers to comment and I did, congratulating her but I couldn’t bring myself to ask for anything in particular as a) I was a bit sceptical and b) I could hear my mother’s voice from when I was young telling me never to ask for anything but always wait to be offered !!!

I forgot all about it then, until earlier this week when I received a surprise email from a lovely sounding gentleman thanking me for commenting on Rosie’s blog and OFFERING me the choice of some posh choccies or Amazon vouchers in return for just linking to them. And do you know, I’m happy to do that as deep down, I have a bit of a sneaking admiration for the clever route they have taken in their marketing.

So, here’s the link and feel free to leave a comment here saying what you were hoping Santa might bring as you never know, Appliances Online could be reading.

Meanwhile, do I go for chocolates or books or chocolates or DVDs or chocolates……oh, such decisions !!!

Family Secrets

2010-12-05T18:46:00.002Z

When my mum was little, her father’s brother was killed in a car accident and because his wife couldn’t cope with life, their son stayed with my mum’s family during the school holidays. My mum and her brother and sister became very close to him and looked on him more as a brother than a cousin.

The last time they were all together was at my parents’ wedding and then almost immediately afterwards, the two boys went to America to make their fortune. Soon after I was born, my mother’s sister who was only 20, developed a brain tumour and only had weeks to live. In that time, she wanted to see both her brothers. The trouble is neither of them had any money and between them they scrimped and saved enough for her real brother to come home but not enough for both of them.

Although my aunt was pleased to see him, she was desperate to see her cousin too and so my grandad took out a loan to buy an air ticket (which was very expensive in those days) to get him back. But, he got home just an hour after my aunt had died and in her last hours she had still been asking for him. He was completely gutted and everyone was grief stricken that such a beautiful young woman had been taken away from them. But my Mum’s grief turned to anger and she gave him a really hard time. She accused him of not caring enough to get a loan of his own, constantly telling him that my Aunt Sadie had been calling his name and that he didn’t have the heart to reciprocate her love, shouted that he wasn’t worthy of her love because he wasn’t even her brother and that from then on he was not dare consider her his sister because she wanted nothing more to do with him.

I only found all this out last week as suddenly, out of the blue, she told me all about him, including how horrible she was to him. Until now, I only knew about my Aunt Sadie, who I never met and my Uncle Charlie who I’ve only seen a few times as he lives in America. And now, I find out I have an Uncle Charles who also lives in the States and who is currently over here on a visit to the UK. He got in touch with my Mum and told her he was coming to see her whether she liked it or not and after all these years of bitterness, she finally relented and agreed to see him.

He came over last night and it was very emotional.

Ewan opened the door to him and welcomed him warmly and I was drawn to him immediately because he looks just like Uncle Charlie. He shouted my name when he saw me and gave me a big huge bear hug and I loved him straight away and then as he let me go, Mum came down the stairs slowly with tears streaming down her face and he ran to her and they hugged and hugged and she was sobbing and saying how sorry she was. This is one strong woman who never apologises but she seemed almost frail in his big arms as she held on to him so that I thought she might never let him go. He hugged Sasha and Kyle and told me he knew all about them as he had seen photos from Uncle Charlie and then we went into the sitting room and caught up with 40 odd years as Mum just sat next to him, holding his hand and looking at him, occasionally stroking his hair.

We had a lovely evening and we talked more over dinner. He told us he had got married the year after my aunt died because he had got a girl pregnant (!) but that they were married for over 25 years until she died suddenly and that he now lives with his daughter who he named Sadie (which made Mum cry even more) who is around the same age as me and married with a daughter. I gave him a lift back to his hotel in Central London and Mum came along too and we met his daughter, my second cousin Sadie and her daughter Naomi.

We’re all going out again tomorrow night. I can’t get over the fact that I have family that I didn’t even know existed and that last night, I met a woman who looks a lot like me with a girl who looks very similar to my Sasha.

I still can't quite believe it all.

A Special Post To A Fellow Blogger

2010-11-30T08:44:00.004Z

.
Dear Amanda

Because I do love your blog and I always value the comments you leave on mine and because I am oh so grateful for the Tuesday Tipples and because I like you and suspect that we could be very good friends, I feel obliged to notify you of something terrible that is about to happen. Not on the scale of recent events there but worthy of advance warning…..

First though I need to go back a few years when I was away from the office for a few weeks and came back to find a new member of staff – Billi.

In a group of really talented, lovely, funny, beautiful people she has always stuck out as, well.......not !

She is a short, squat, scruffy, loud woman. It doesn’t help that she uses her very strong Liverpool accent almost as a form of aggression ! On most days she’ll come into work late, always looking slightly grubby with tatty combat trousers and shapeless tops, no make up and her lank, greasy hair scraped back off her face with an elastic band. Fortunately, she is kept hidden away deep in the main office far away from clients but …… on the odd occasion that she has come to a big event, she undergoes a magical transformation and she looks, well, there’s no other way of describing it but, quite beautiful. And when she got married, a year ago, I couldn’t believe the photos were of her as she looked so elegant.

But the thing is, she is quite vile. She shouts all the time, she always feels hard done by and so is permanently angry, she has the most dreadful phone manner, she swears using words that make me cringe, she can’t ever accept that she may be in the wrong and she has several huge chips on her shoulder.

She was brought in by one of the senior partners and the rumour is that they “knew” each other rather well though I can’t imagine how that could have come about.

Most people in the office have had a run-in with her, including me, just a few months after she arrived, when she got upset with me for not inviting her to a particular meeting. I told her it was because it didn’t involve her and she went off on one saying that she was fed up with the way I treated her, like she was dirt on my shoe and that actually I wasn’t all that and that I should take a long look in the mirror some time as even though I may think I’m young, I’m actually nothing but an old goat !! I told her to watch her tone and she challenged me to do my worst and see if she cares.

I stormed into Ken’s office and demanded that he do something about it and he said I should calm down and learn to cope with a “naturally fiery spirit” !!! That’s when I realised she must have something very big on him to let her get away with the constant episodes. Since then, I have rarely engaged with her and she has never made any attempt to apologise to me or anyone else.

Anyway, yesterday, she walked into the office and shouted “OK yous lot, listen up, ay’ve got summat to say! (I appreciate this is a very poor attempt to mimic her in writing but you need to know I do it brilliantly in real life). Ay’m leavin this doomp. Me husband’s gorra job in New Zealand so ay’m going withim and yous lot can all foock right off. Ay’ve hated every one of ya and you’ve mayde my life hell, so good riddance to the lotta yer an I ‘ope this coompany goes down, takin the lot of ya with it. See ya – wouldn’t wanna be ya”

Seriously, she really did say all that and she turned on her heel and walked back out again. There was a couple of seconds of silent shock and then everyone started cheering and laughing. Even Ken came out of his office smiling. However, I suddenly realised that our great joy means impeding doom for you, dear Amanda.

She’s coming to Christchurch !!

Musical Dreams

2010-11-12T11:02:00.002Z

When Sasha announced last year, that she wouldn’t be applying to university, I was admittedly upset but she seemed adamant that she wanted to take a year out and I fought hard from telling her what I wanted her to do and allowed her to make her own decision.

I was worried that she would while away her days sleeping in and then going out with her friends but I have to say that although she enjoyed the long summer break she hasn’t wasted her time since September. She has found herself a part time job at a shop three days a week but more impressive is that she has been helping out at a soup kitchen on her days off and for a while now she has been working at a youth centre in her spare time too. And whatsmore, she seems to get a lot of pleasure doing that. So much so that she announced a while back that she was going to write a musical for the youngsters ! I told her I thought it was a lovely idea but assumed it might be something that never saw the light of day.

But then, a few weeks ago, she played me some of the music she has already written. She has done the opening and closing numbers and two other songs and when I heard it all I was completely blown away. It is amazing. The storyline centres around first love and the music definitely has hints of Grease, High School Musical, Glee and a bit of Hairspray thrown in for good measure. The kids will love it but I’m still getting over the fact that my daughter has put this together. My little girl !

She has been musical since she was tiny (she used to hum while lying in her cot) and is always singing and playing the piano and guitar. Her GCSE and A-level music compositions were pretty spectacular so I really shouldn’t be surprised but I just can’t get over how she has put this together in such a short space of time and how she has got it so right.

I was at an event with Lord Lloyd-Webber a few weeks back and although I enjoyed my brief conversation with him (about how he went out with Liza Minelli for a while!!) I had to keep stopping myself from butting in and saying “By the way, my daughter is 18 and has just written her first musical and IT’S BLOODY BRILLIANT - can you give her a job??!!! “ But I didn’t…..

Anyway, last night she asked me to help with some musical workshops for the kids so that she could work out who the strongest singers were and that was a fantastic experience. These kids, aged 11-16, were brilliant. So enthusiastic and they clearly love her. And, they made a great sound.

I think my rather beautiful, talented daughter is going to have a success on her hands and I am unashamedly bursting with pride !

Friendship

2010-10-21T18:48:00.004+01:00

I’ve been thinking about my friends a lot recently.

I have always surrounded myself with lots of people and I like that I form friendships quite easily and that people seem to value having me around. But I think that when I was feeling particularly low, I was upset that I didn’t have anyone I could turn to who I could pour out all the angst and bore to death.

I know that’s not true though. I know any one of them would listen to me without judging but because of my issues I couldn’t talk about what was wrong. Hell, I didn’t know myself. If I’m honest, I don’t really know now although with the therapist’s help I have a better idea.

The point is that I enjoy being a friend to others and listening when they need a comforting ear. I can’t expect that back when I refuse to allow any of them into my inner core. It’s my problem not theirs.

I saw this poem recently and thought it summed me up, especially the second verse.

FRIENDS by ELIZABETH JENNINGS
I fear it's very wrong of me,
And yet I must admit,
When someone offers friendship
I want the whole of it.
I don't want everybody else
To share my friends with me.
At least, I want one special one,
Who indisputably,

Likes me much more than all the rest,
Who's always on my side,
Who never cares what others say,
Who lets me come and hide
Within his shadow, in his house -
It doesn't matter where -
Who lets me simply be myself,
Who's always, always there.

A great move forward is that I recognise now that I have never had, nor never will, have this sort of relationship because I don’t think I’m worthy of just being myself - others might not like that real me. It’s a work in progress with the therapist but an area that will probably take the most time and effort.

What I can be, however, is a good friend to those around me. I can offer unconditional friendship and one day, when I have truly sorted myself out, that will be a two-way process

Selina, My Old Friend, Where Have You Been?

2010-10-19T17:16:00.001+01:00

I’ve neglected this blog and my online buddies recently as I’ve been catching up with my real-life friends. I suddenly realised that I hadn’t seen enough of the people I care for and that apart from work events, I rarely go out now.

The old Selina was constantly entertaining or going out to friends’ houses or events with Ewan and the family. I don’t know when it stopped but at some stage I just got very tired of it and lost all enthusiasm and I just wanted to be at home at the weekend, in my pyjamas, watching X-Factor and Strictly Come Dancing !!

I’m sure it was to do with that period of depression that I went through when I didn’t really want to make the effort to engage with others. But when I was off sick last month, I couldn’t stop thinking of how things used to be and I felt very strongly that I needed to reconnect with everyone.

So, over the last four or five weeks, we have had friends over to dinner and lunch at the weekends or been out to parties (oh, and a wedding) and this last weekend we had a party which was great. It felt so lovely having everyone over again and I forgot how much I love cooking for others and putting on a spread. I feel quite exhuausted now though as I don’t have the stamina I once had and preparing everything and clearing up afterwards takes longer than it used to but still, it feels so right.

I think the real Selina is slowly and surely on her way back !

Creating A Stink

2010-10-01T07:06:00.002+01:00

My son has taken to wearing quite a lot of aftershave recently. I think it’s to alert everyone to the fact that he is now shaving but I had to tell him it was really too much and that it was never a good thing to be able to smell someone coming......long before you see them !

A couple of days ago, I picked him up from school and took him shopping for some new rugby boots and we stopped off for a coffee. While we there, we saw a bloke that used to live on our street who joined us for a bit and when he left, he gave me a hug and then said to Kyle “I love getting close to your mum, she always smells so divine” !!!

I expected Kyle to show that look of disgust that he normally displays if anyone says anything nice to me but actually he was nodding. He said that he agreed, I did always smell lovely and I nearly fell off my seat !

My darling son then went on to ask how I did it because he wanted to know how to smell good through the day without piling on loads of scent. And so, delighted at finally being asked for advice on something by one of my offspring, I told him my fragrance secrets.

At the moment, I have three perfumes on my dressing table, Chanel No.5 (which has been the one constant since I got married), Burberry Weekend and Cerruti 1881. I also have bath/shower gels and body lotions to match and basically I just layer.

Once I’ve decided on the scent of the day, I use it in the shower and as soon as I come out, with my skin still damp, I apply the appropriate body lotion and then I use the matching perfume under arm, in the crook of the arm, in cleavage, behind knees and …..on the soles of my feet ! Then about an hour later, just before leaving the house, I spray a light mist over my hair. At lunchtime, I’ll usually dab a little on my wrists and/or neck to see me through the rest of the day.

Ewan often says I smell lovely when he gets into bed and cuddles up to me and that still makes me happy, even after all these years.

So back to the boy, he was seriously impressed with his old woman’s advice and we went in search of something he liked and he chose the Obsession for Men range, which bizarrely came with a free pair of CK boxers ! And …..after just a day of his new fragrance regime. he told me the new girl in his class who he has fancied from afar for the last couple of weeks asked him if he wanted to “hang out” some time !

Yes! The sweet smell of success. I am a genius …

All Clear

2010-09-18T07:50:00.000+01:00

I had to go to hospital again yesterday to have my stitches out (which was bloody painful actually!) and the consultant told me that they did get all the abnormal cells out so there’s no need for any more action now. I have to go back in six months to check no more have appeared but otherwise all is well and I think I can put it all behind me.

Thank you for all your kind comments and emails. They have meant such a lot and been a great support.

You’re all quite lovely !

Bye Bye BB

2010-09-11T08:32:00.003+01:00

I have struggled against it but I feel I have to mark the passing of Big Brother here in the UK.

It should have been stopped ages ago of course, but I have to admit that in the name of television history, I watched this final series of Ultimate Big Brother. It confirms why I gave up watching it by BB4 ….but all the same, there is something strangely addictive about the programme.

I remember I couldn’t wait for it to come to the UK as I was working in Holland when the first ever ever episodes were aired there in September ‘99. The following summer it was here and I was really keen to see how it worked as a social experiment. I was hooked from the beginning and often thought it would be an amazing learning experience to look at how you interact with a group of strangers and see how your faults and qualities develop with different personalities and to then hear what they think of you and say behind your back. I often imagined how I would cope with situations and people in the house and I loved the special programme they had on a Sunday evening in those early days with the psychologists, who explained why the housemates behaved they way they did. I really loved it.

I think I learnt a lot about myself too. For example it became so clear that even when a housemate was in the wrong and challenged by the others, although one or two would acknowledge their mistake instantly and apologise, the majority would defend their position and scream and shout to try and justify what they did or said, just so they wouldn’t have to back down. I realised pretty soon that was me. That I hated to be wrong and that especially with Ewan, I would go on and on until he was so confused that he would apologise. I have worked hard to change that behaviour over the years.

I also saw myself in a housemate called Mel. She was lovely but she enjoyed male attention and if I remember correctly she giggled, flirted and kissed at least four of them in the opening weeks. I thought her behaviour was atrocious but then realised I was so offended because it was exactly how I behaved. Any male interest and I would turn my face to the admirer as a flower looks up to the sun. It justified my existence. Made me feel worthwhile. And I could see all that in Mel and I saw how the other housemates didn’t like it at all. I remember thinking that I would stop being so pathetic where men were concerned but I clearly wasn’t that successful as I went on to have two affairs after that. I’m still working on it though and with the help of the therapist I think I am learning not to be so dependent on what men think of me.

I think the thing that struck me most was how much the evictions made me think of ….wait for it ….death! Finding out they were nominated was like housemates being told they only had days to live. Some of them were very philosophical about it, making the point that they all had to come out at as some time. Some made a decision to enjoy every last minute of the few days they had left and would often show a side we hadn’t seen before. And some spent their last hours in complete terror of the reception waiting for them outside – would they be booed mercilessly or cheered on by the crowds? But whatever their reaction to possible eviction, they all coped as they went through the doors. Some of them got terrible jeers and looked as if they wouldn’t be able to get down the steps but once they all spotted the heavenly Davina waiting for them, they seemed to find the spirit to go on and most of them then seemed to love the paparazzi attention and the crowds looking at them and shouting their name and their interview which in most cases gave them the strength to go on and face their new life.

It was a shame it it all changed and became an opportunity for fame hungry idiots to expose us to their stupidity. The whole social experiment went out of the window and I lost the point of what it was actually about any more.

I watched most of the Celebrity Big Brothers though and found it fascinating just being a voyeur. Not that I would ever admit to that – I was too ashamed! I prefered to tut-tut and shake my head and blame it for everything that is wrong with TV these days.

I think as it all comes to an end though it is time to, quietly, under my breath, secretly thank Big Brother ….and wish it well in that afterworld that is TV history.

Fancy Some More?

2010-09-07T08:42:00.003+01:00

Sorry? Did I say everything was all right?? How very stupid of me. Of course, being Selina Kingston with a blog to fill and all, how could everything be all right?? There has to be more ….

So, after I wrote my last entry, I felt quite exhausted and went back to bed and I woke up to Ewan shaking me and asking me what was going on as I had been dozing for ages and how was I going to sleep through the night as it was now four in the afternoon.

I recall saying I needed to get to the loo but as I stood up I felt terribly dizzy and sick and that was it. The next thing I remember is waking up in hospital !

Apparently I had lost a lot of blood - it was all over the bed - and that sent my normally calm husband into a complete frenzy. He called the ambulance and it seems they were there in a matter of minutes and whisked me off to hospital.

Sasha later told me that it was like a scene from Casualty and if she hadn’t been so scared she would have taken the time to enjoy it, especially as the paramedic was “proper fit”!!! I’m really cross about that because he would have seen that I was wearing my old comfy, holey pyjamas rather than any one of the pretty sets that are in the drawer ! Not that I could have kept them on for long as I was back in that ubiquitous hospital gown within minutes of arriving!

It seems that a stitch had come out of my cervix, hence the excessive bleeding and so they told me that they were going to cauterize the area and then pack it. Nice ! They did it while I was awake but gave me a sedative. Ewan was asked if he wanted to come in to hold my hand and he said yes ! He has since told me it was the worst decision of his life as he thought he was going to pass out !!!

As it was so late by the time they carried out the procedure, they decided to keep me in overnight to monitor the bleeding and my blood pressure but I was home again by lunchtime. Again, I slept for most of the day but this time when I woke up, I felt much better. I have to stay off work now for the rest of the week and they want me back in tomorrow to check all is well.

My mother is still clucking around me – it’s so unnerving! She made her famous tomato soup to help my recovery but Ewan announced that he couldn’t have any as he will never be able to face anything red again !!

That made me laugh so much that I swear another stitch has gone ……

Anyone For A Cone?

2010-09-05T10:57:00.003+01:00

I went in to hospital on Thursday for the Cone Biopsy and even though I put on a brave face, inside I was incredibly anxious

I had to put on the most delightful green surgical stockings (to prevent DVT), a hospital gown which refused to do up at the back and big paper knickers. And then I had to wait for ages. Fortunately I had taken in some magazines which kept me occupied but I was left for a good few hours.

In that time a nurse came in to do various checks but she was very dour and didn’t really engage with me!

An anaesthetist came and took my history - she was very sweet but very young which was somehow disconcerting.

And then the consultant breezed in. He was very jolly and sat next to me on the bed and went over what he was going to do and all the things that might go wrong. He said they had decided to do a hysteroscopy as well (which is basically sending in a camera to have a good look at the womb) and if that showed up anything serious they needed my permission to whip it out there and then ! That came as a shock but I signed the consent form and realised that my signature looked unfamiliar as my hand was shaking so much. The doctor told me to not worry and modestly added that he was an excellent surgeon and that it would be over very quickly.

After he swept out, another very young doctor scurried in and took some blood from me which resulted in much of it spilling over my arm and on to the sheets as she apologised profusely and looked as if she was going to cry.

The grumpy nurse wasn’t very happy about it when she returned to do some more checks. Five minutes later she popped her head back in through the curtains to tell me briskly that I had protein in my urine which suggested an infection of some sort so I needed to see my GP when I was back home. I asked her what she meant and she just repeated that I had protein in my urine. When I asked her if that was serious she said she didn’t know but I should see my GP. I’m so pathetic that I didn’t ask any more questions and just went back to my magazine!!

And then, suddenly, this huge giant of a man pulled back the curtains and made me jump as he bellowed “ Ready?” and before I could say anything, he said “we’re off” and then wheeled me on my bed out of the ward as the grumpy nurse ran after us with my notes. I still had my magazine with me!!

I have to admit I was scared then.

I was wheeled into the ante room where there seemed to be a hundred people milling around and through the double doors I could see more people in the operating theatre with its huge lights. The sweet anaesthetist came out and asked me how I was and when I couldn’t answer she said it was OK and perfectly natural to be anxious and that she would be with me the whole time and that everyone was there to look after me. She then started sticking needles in my hand and explained what she was doing but I couldn’t hear because the grumpy nurse had handed over to another nurse who started asking me to confirm my name and date of birth and then someone else was explaining that we would be going in soon and then another anaesthetist was there telling me she would be putting me to sleep shortly and then they put a mask over me and then ………..

…..The next thing I remember is about four people around me telling me that I had to lie still, pushing me down on the bed and saying I couldn’t go anywhere yet and asking me why I was crying !! As I came round they told me that everything was fine and that my womb was still in place. It seems I had woken up sobbing (which is quite common apparently) and I had tried to get off the bed. All seemed fine and then suddenly out of nowhere I was sick (again very common!) - extremely impressive projectile vomit which spewed out in an arc over the bed and on to the floor! They injected something into my hand and the relief was instant. I’m desperate to know what it was as I’m sure it could come in handy for the next hangover.

I was in recovery for a while and then they took me back to the ward where I must have slept it off for a good few hours because when I woke up, Ewan and Kyle were there. I don’t really remember saying much to them but afterwards Kyle said I looked pale and deathly and didn’t stop babbling!!

I slept through the night and in the morning I felt much better. The tea and bacon sandwich they gave me has to rank as one of the best meals I have ever had !

I thought I would get to go pretty soon but I spent the whole day on the ward as my blood pressure was too low for them to release me and I drifted in and out of sleep. The actual discharge took three attempts. Ewan and Sasha had come to get me at about seven in the evening but we didn’t get out until ten!

The first time was looking good. Sasha had helped me change and the nurse had gone over everything and given me my discharge notes and then she removed the needle from hand and …. I passed out !

I felt fine almost immediately but I had to wait an hour and a half before the second attempt. On this occasion we almost did it but after all the thank you and goodbyes, I got to the end of the ward and …went again.

This time, even though again I felt OK straight away, we had to wait an hour for the the doctor and he said my blood pressure was still too low and if it didn’t pick up in the next hour I would have to stay another night.

Fortunately, the third try was fine although when I hit the cool night air I nearly went again but was determined not to go back in!!

And that’s it. I’ve been fine since, although I have been sleeping far too much. I think I must look a real fright as everyone at home looks very concerned and they are all being very kind and considerate. I tried to put some washing on yesterday but Sasha took it off me and ordered me back to bed. That has got to be a first !

Things really must seem very serious to them all - even my mother is being nice to me !!

Yesterday , Tomorrow, Where Are We?

2010-09-01T07:28:00.002+01:00

I had to go into hospital yesterday for some pre-op checks.

It seems I am in very rude health. Perfect blood pressure, no previous medical history, correct weight for my height….the nurse said I was lovely and straightforward !! She sent me off for a chest x-ray and some blood tests and assuming they come back normal, all will go ahead as planned, tomorrow.

While I was waiting for my blood tests ( I took ticket no 89 and they were only on 51 when I arrived!), an old lady was wheeled into place opposite me by her carer who then sat next to her. They both smiled at me and I noticed that the lady in the wheelchair was well-dressed and she sat up straight and proud and was well-spoken.

She asked her carer what the number on the ticket was and was told 93 and she noted that they were in for a long wait. The newspaper that was in her lap then slipped off her knees and fell in front of me. I picked it up and handed it to her with a smile and she thanked me very graciously. She handed it to her carer and asked her to read some of the articles out which the carer did and they talked about some of the stories.

I was quite fascinated by the two of them.

In between the reading, the old lady asked a couple of times what the number was on the ticket but the carer didn’t answer which I thought was a little rude. A little while later, I noticed the woman was not sitting so straight but had slumped a little in her chair. While her carer was reading, she pulled her sleeve and asked “what time is your appointment?” The carer said “There’s no time – it’s not an appointment.” “Oh” said the old lady “what is it then?” “It’s a blood test remember and it’s for you, not me.” The old lady’s eyes widened and the carer patted her on the knee and reassured her that it would be OK and over very quickly but they just had to wait a while first and then the old lady seemed to slump in her chair and stared at the floor while the carer just continued to read the newspaper quietly to herself.

I felt very anxious all of a sudden.

Then, about ten minutes later, the old lady sat up straight in her chair again and started to talk about one of the stories in the paper. I can’t remember the details but it was something about a man being sacked when his employer found out he was gay and she gave her opinions on why that was so wrong and had a very eloquent discussion with the carer about employment law and human rights. She broke it off to ask what number was on the ticket and was again ignored and then she suddenly asked where Brian was. Her carer asked “Brian? You mean your husband? He’s not with us anymore.” “Why?” asked the old lady. “Is he up in London?” “No” said the carer “He died a while back, didn’t he.” The old lady looked confused and then anger flashed across her face as she said “What a wicked thing to say. You’re a horrid girl. I shan’t talk to you any more.” And she sat staring at the floor again while the carer continued to read the paper.

I finally got it then.

It had taken a while to figure out as the old lady had seemed so proper. I bet she was a teacher once, even a headmistress but I guess dementia doesn’t care about the past.

Number 89 finally flashed up and I walked away as the old lady, forgetting her anger, asked what number ticket they had……

The Other Results

2010-08-31T08:32:00.007+01:00

I neglected to mention that my son got his GCSE results. last week

He got 1 A and …….TEN A*s. In addition, he got an A in an AS level that he took a year early !!

I want to be modest about it and when people have congratulated us, I have smiled sweetly and said “yes, he has done very well - it's been another good year for the xchool” But actually, I want to run to the highest point and shout loudly:

MY SON IS A COMPLETE AND UTTER GENIUS. OH MY GOD, HE GOT ........ TEN, THAT’S TEN A STARS !!!! HE IS BLOODY BRIIIIIILLIANT !!!!

The thing is, this academic brilliance doesn’t come from me as much as I would like to take the credit. Ewan was the high flier as a student. I got by at school and university but I never really grasped how to do the whole study thing and I see that in my daughter.

She did better than we expected in her A-levels and that came as much as a surprise to her as to us but it hasn’t increased her desire to go to university. She made a choice earlier in the year not to apply and to take a year out to pursue her music and drama. I wasn’t happy about it but at the end of the day it is her decision and we will support her.

I’m constantly amazed at how different my two children are and how, in spite of that, they get on so well. I love watching them together. Sometimes they don’t interact with each other at all and then other times, they are falling about laughing together and of course, often they are arguing..

Sasha was genuinely delighted at Kyle’s results and she instantly took him out to treat him to lunch. Today they plan to go shopping and then off to the cinema. I know they are incredibly fond of each other and that reassures me. They’ll always be there for each other long after I have gone which is very comforting to know.

I have two fantastic children. I am so proud of them both and I don’t acknowledge that enough.

By the way, did I say ……that was TEN A-STARS !!!!!!

And The Results Are …

2010-08-28T08:41:00.002+01:00

So on Monday, I trotted along to the hospital for my morning appointment expecting to have to wait for ages but once I had given my name, the consultant came out to greet me and took me into his office.

He asked me how I was feeling and when I said nervous, he said he was sorry that he hadn’t spoken to me over the phone but that he preferred to speak to his patients face to face.

He went on to explain that the reason that it had taken a while to get back to me was because he had wanted to discuss my case at the monthly MDT meeting with a pathologist and oncologist. Just hearing the world oncologist made me freeze inside as I immediately thought the worst.

However the situation is, although the colposcopy examination showed that my cervix is clear the biopsies showed that there are some pre-cancerous cells further up the neck of the womb. This is what is worrying them and so I need something called a cone biopsy. This is a small operation which will cut away a cone-shaped section of the affected area that will remove the abnormal cells and offer them a larger sample to examine and see if there is any need for further treatment.

He was keen to point out that at this stage there are no invasive cancer cells as far as they can see and that hopefully this procedure along with smear tests every four to six months will prevent any further abnormalities developing.

I felt quite relieved after he put it like that and then he suddenly said that he didn’t want to waste any time and his day for surgery was Thursday and he would like to schedule me in the same week. I mumbled something about it being too soon and he then said that he could delay it until the following Thursday but that he didn’t want to leave it any longer as it was quite important to carry out this treatment as quickly as possible. I asked him why and he said if there were abnormal cells further up in the womb they would need to act quickly.

Why do doctors talk in such contradictory terms? One minute he made me feel that this is all just a regular procedure and then suddenly it sounded almost like life and death with his sudden urgency to get it done.

Remarkably though I feel quite calm about it all now. It all seems fairly straightforward and the consultant is kind and seems very competent, if lacking in the best bedside manner !

Anyway, I’ll be in hospital this coming Thursday and Friday and then a few days off work to recuperate. There are a various things I should apparently refrain from for about four weeks after ….. including sex.

Ewan says that will be no change from usual then !!

A Time To Laugh

2010-08-21T09:16:00.002+01:00

Yesterday in the office, I laughed.

I have learnt in life that those worst times of grief, when it feels like happiness will never come again, are so misleading. Although it doesn’t seem possible at the time, the shadows do lift and suddenly, sometimes when you least expect it, you hear the sound of laugher and realise it belongs to you.

That happened to me yesterday.

I guess I have been quiet these last couple of weeks and have kept myself shut away in my office, using work as a distraction. It’s not been so bad at home as the family give me much-needed energy. Especially when my daughter got better grades in her A-levels than we were expecting. We’re all incredibly proud of her.

But yesterday, Pete, one of the young guys at work was relating a terrible dating experience he’d had the night before and suddenly I realised I was giggling and as the story went on, I had pretty much collapsed with the others into a heap of convulsive laughter. It was good for me and I needed that – it was such a release.

Just ten minutes later though, I got a call from the hospital.

They want me to go in as soon as possible to discuss the results of my Colposcopy with the consultant. I asked for more details but the secretary said she wasn’t qualified to give me that information and that it would be best to wait to speak to the doctors.

It’s been a month since I had that test and I stupidly assumed that as I hadn’t heard anything that it was all OK. To be honest, what with Maria’s death and then the funeral, I had pretty much forgotten all about it. That phone call has put a stop to that though as now, I can’t think of anything else. I have to go in on Monday morning. I’m trying to be calm and rational but it’s proving difficult.

I guess the gods weren’t ready for me to start laughing just yet.

Why Can’t Life Be More Like A Fairy Tale

2010-08-15T17:04:00.001+01:00

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess called Maria.

She wasn’t really a princess but she was so loved by her wealthy parents that she was treated just like one and given everything she wanted and was always allowed to have her own way. She was perhaps a little spoilt but she was so funny and pretty and full of life that everyone who met her loved her and forgave her sometimes negative traits.

For example, she got bored very easily if things didn’t go her way and so when she decided she didn’t like it at university she just dropped out. She tried her hand at a few jobs, including modelling, but because they didn’t interest her she never stayed long.

And then one day, she met a lady called Selina.

Selina recognised something of herself in this wild spirit and so took her under her wing. She gave her a temporary secretarial position in her office and Maria found that she loved it there. It soon became obvious that she was a natural in the PR world and she made herself invaluable until the directors gave her a permanent position as an assistant and from there she worked her way up. She stayed with the company for five years and the only reason she left was because she fell for one of the clients - a very rich young man called Gerald who swept her off her feet.

She had a fairytale wedding and Selina, who had become very close to her, was her matron of honour. All was well and Maria and Gerald were happy and settled in the country.

Or so it seemed.

Gerald would often ring Selina’s husband Ewan for advice on how to handle Maria as she was becoming more and more demanding and unhappy, living so far away from everyone. She refused to adapt to country life and complained bitterly that she wanted more. Gerald loved her and tried to make her happy but increasingly they led separate lives as Maria spent more time with her young single friends in London.

Both Selina and Ewan tried to talk to her but she refused to understand the need for compromise and after just three years, the couple split up. Selina spent a lot of time with Maria who was heartbroken. As much as she had pushed him away, she loved Gerald and now she couldn’t cope with him not being in her life. She alternated between partying wildly and shutting herself away for days at a time.

Selina, Ewan and Gerald waited, hoping that Maria would find peace and be ready to return to married life. But on the last Saturday in July 2010, she partied a little too heavily and then ran out into the road where she was hit by a car.

For Maria, there was no happy ever after.

I’ve been distraught since the news of Maria’s death.

Watching Gerald’s grief has been too much to bear. He blames himself and nothing we say can convince him otherwise. She had only just turned thirty and she had it all. I just don’t understand why she let it slip away.

I just can’t get over the pointless waste of such a young life.

Lurking

2010-08-05T10:59:00.000+01:00

I’m here but am finding it difficult to blog at the moment. I have been visiting everyone but haven’t left many comments so forgive me.

Something has happened recently – not to me and nothing to do with my health but it has left me reeling and I need time to come to terms with it.

I know it will help to write about it and that’s the plan but I need time to get round to it and I just don’t feel like it for now. Perhaps I’ll be ready tomorrow or next week or maybe next month but however long it takes, don’t lose patience with me.

I’ll be back eventually.

After The Tears

2010-07-28T15:36:00.002+01:00

I’m bored of crying now – time for some laughter and this morning, I remembered something that started me giggling, even though I was sitting on a crowded train !!

It happened quite a few years ago to my beautiful but ditzy friend, Nancy and it made me scream with laughter at the time, even though I have never been entirely convinced it’s true. It if is, it could only have happened to her. It’s to do with one of her smear tests so look away now if hearing about that is going to bother you !

So, she had spent an afternoon shopping when, on a whim, she went into her local GP centre to see if the doctor could fit her in for a smear test. She was told if she could wait twenty minutes it should be fine. After sitting there for a while, it suddenly struck her that she ought to tidy herself up, down there, and so she popped into the ladies. Of course, there was no loo roll, so she had to rummage around in her bag in search of tissues but there was nothing apart from one crumbly, screwed up offering right underneath all the junk that had been building up in there.. She used it to …ahem…sort herself out and then made her way in to the doctor’s office.

She got on the couch and the doctor started the procedure but she noticed that he and the nurse exchanged glances and she then handed him a kidney bowl into which he placed something. After it was all over and as Nancy was left to get dressed she couldn’t resist a quick peek into the bowl and there, to her horror, was ……. a first class stamp stuck to a bit of tissue!

She said she was sure she could hear them both laughing before she had even closed the door on the way out and she was mortified! She moved to a different doctor after that as she couldn’t bear the shame of facing him or the nurse ever again.

The girl is so funny! I’m crying again – this time with helpless laughter.

Tears, Tears And More Tears

2010-07-22T23:13:00.004+01:00

I seem to have spent all my time crying recently.

On Monday, I stopped off at the supermarket after work to pick up a few bits. While I was at the checkout, one of the staff fell and gashed her arm on some broken glass. Her supervisor was practically apoplectic with panic and was screaming for an ambulance and the store first aider. The girl on the floor was white with shock as the blood was pouring out. I don’t know when I became so squeamish but I felt very faint at the whole spectacle and I actually wanted to rush out but I was in the middle of the whole packing and paying exercise. As I left, I looked at the poor girl again and she didn’t look in a good way with everyone crowding around her and suddenly I was crying. I rushed to the car and it took me a while to compose myself. I really hope she is OK.

Then on Tuesday, we all went to see Toy Story 3 as my teens were keen to see how the films they had grown up with concluded. We went with no expectations as I warned them that it was unlikely the third film could live up to the other two. How wrong was I – it was brilliant ! But towards the end, it set out to pull heartstrings and instead of a discreet tear, I was sobbing loudly …..much to the embarrassment of my children.

And then yesterday, I went to the hospital.

I really tried hard to be matter of fact about it but to no avail. I thought I was calm while I was in the waiting area which was for all outpatients. But then, this big woman came in, pushed to the front of the queue and said that she had been told to go to the wrong place where she had been waiting for ages and now she was late and she better not have missed her appointment or there would be hell to pay. The receptionist asked her nicely to wait her turn but no, she carried on shouting until she was finally booked in and told to take a seat. Then a mobile phone rang out and the Indian man who owned it answered it, admittedly quite loudly. This of course sent the crazy lady into a frenzy and she started shouting at him to turn it off as they weren’t allowed in hospital and then she delivered a monologue about how “these people” shouldn’t even be given treatment on the NHS which she had paid for all her life and suddenly others were telling her to shut up and she shouted back and you guessed it, I was crying again.

It was really embarrassing! I was trying not to which of course made it worse and I kept my head down and let my hair fall around my face as I tried to wipe away the tears without being seen but they kept coming and then I looked up and a muslim woman, in full burkha, offered me what looked like a used tissue and that kindness made me cry even more as I said no thank you and then rummaged around in my bag for my own but it was no good, I had to go to the loo to blow my nose and pull myself together.

Fortunately, almost as soon as I came back to the waiting room, I was called in to see the doctor. She was a gentle woman with a kind looking face and so of course when she asked me if I was OK, I started crying again and then there were two nurses with me making a fuss of me and getting me water and tissues and telling me that it was completely natural to be nervous but that they would be with me and everything would be OK.

After taking my history, the doctor started the procedure and explained what she was doing at every stage. I had pretty much calmed down when she suddenly said she was sorry but she needed to call in the consultant. When the nurse squeezed my hand, I could feel the tears pricking my eyes again….

They were streaming down my face by the time the consultant came in. He had a look and then said that they were a bit worried about an area behind the neck of the womb which they couldn’t see as clearly and so he was going to take a biopsy. He warned that it could be uncomfortable and asked if I wanted a local anaesthetic but said that if I could bear it, he could do it very quickly without. Stupidly I agreed and oh bloody hell it was painful and whatsmore he decided to take THREE bits out of me !! But as they had already seen the tears I decided to just let all pride go out the window and cry like a baby. I mean proper bawling.

I thought I was OK today but I’ve just half-watched that Panorama programme about some undercover filming in a vets’ practice where the animals were treated really cruelly and that has set me off for the night.

My family have fled to safe areas in the house and I am writing this in paroxysms of spluttering sobs. I might never stop.

Bloody pathetic !

Not Dead….Yet !

2010-07-19T23:07:00.002+01:00

So I’m still here but I have to say, it’s been a weird week !

Those enduring thoughts of imminent death stayed with me for a couple of days and in that time everything seemed extremely heightened. I suddenly seemed to notice everything.

Like:
- how captivating the flowers are in our garden, especially the roses on the pergola. This is the second bloom of the year and it is spectacular. The heads are enormous and the blood red petals are so soft and velvety. My favourite place to sit at the moment is on the swing underneath them in the morning and evening as they pump out their heady, divine fragrance
- the lavender at the back of the garden also looks stunning and smells heavenly
- lying in bed first thing in the morning whilst still dreamy and listening to the birds singing. I have never noticed before just what a rapturous sound it is
- looking up at the sky which has been particularly blue recently, while stretched out on the grass and imagining I’m floating up. It’s such a sublime feeling
- it seems that everything I eat, especially all this luscious, ripe fruit that is around at the moment, is just scrumptious. On Wednesday, my cherubic, angelic son made me a simple hot baked potato with lashings of butter and grated cheese and it tasted like food from the gods - blissful

I spoke to my therapist about the whole experience and he thinks it’s all rather strange. He said he would have been concerned if it was something I was longing for or seriously anxious about but as I’m not, he’s unsure what it could be. I asked him if he thought, as some readers have commented, that it might be death of the old self as I resolve various situations in my life and he conceded it could be. He said that he thought I had come a long way since we started, which I don’t think he’s said before.

We talked about my faith and beliefs and my attitude towards death (which has never been one of fear) and he also asked me if I had ever had any psychic experiences. When I started laughing, he wanted to know why I was so amused. I can never really make him out. Did he ask me that because it’s something he believes in or was he just checking if I really am in need of serious psychiatric help?

I asked him if he thought I was mad and he said it was a word he didn’t like and then a discussion followed on why what he thought of me should be so important and I got very confused in my answer. The only thing he gave away was that he did think after all this time that I was still trying to be very “alluring” in our sessions in order to make right the things that come out that I don’t like about myself. I told him I wasn’t trying and that I was naturally adorable and he rolled his eyes but I saw it – there was a hint of a smile !!!

I came away from him on Thursday evening feeling better. And I went to sleep without wondering if I would wake up. Friday morning felt more normal again and not so dreamlike and over the weekend, those feelings pretty much disappeared and all should have been well.

But then, late this morning, while I was at work, I got a call from my doctor.

He said that the long-overdue smear test that I finally went for last week had shown some serious abnormalities and that he had arranged for me to go into hospital for a colposcopy examination on Wednesday morning. I said I needed to check my diary in case I had any meetings and he just said very briskly that he strongly recommended I made the appointment a priority.

That sort of urgent language is worrying. So much for laughing at the idea of being psychic……

I put the phone down and cried.

This Could Be It

2010-07-13T07:22:00.004+01:00

Apologies in advance for being morbid but I felt I had to get this one down. You see, over the last couple of days I have had a strong feeling that ….. I am going to die.

It’s not fear or panic or anxiety – not even the depression that has plagued me for the last year or so. This is just a simple belief that has suddenly come about that I only have a few days left.

It’s so bizarre. I go to sleep actually wondering if I will wake up. I’ve even left a note in my bedroom drawer listing bank details and where everything is in case anything does happen.

I’m sure it will pass but it has never happened to me before. Obviously I haven’t said anything to anyone but I may have to share this one with the therapist later in the week - it will only serve to further his opinion that I really am a total fruitcake!

Anyway, just thought I'd mention it. If there are no further posts from me, you’ll know I was right !!

Remember Matt??

2010-07-10T18:38:00.003+01:00

Yesterday, when I logged on, I was very surprised to see an email waiting for me from Matt.

I haven’t heard from him since that cold day back in February when we met in a bar and I told him that I didn’t want to see him anymore and his response was less than pleasant. Since then, I have done a very good job at putting him out of my mind. I’ll admit it hasn’t been easy but I can honestly say that in the last month or so, I have hardly thought of him at all.

I nearly didn’t open the email but of course, curiosity got the better of me. Here’s what he had to say:

Hey there, it's been ages since I've been in touch I know, so have decided to rectify the situation! How the hell are you? Work still busy?

I suspect you are still looking super amazing, and with the sun out all the time at the moment, I bet you are driving the guys in the office wild with your summer wardrobe!

Trust you are still singing. I’ve decided to give it a miss for a while but I'll be along to help out at the shows if I’m still needed.

Hope the family are cool, anyway, curious to hear how you are. I think I'm just about holding up without you, but I better not go down that road or you’ll tell me off again, so I'll say ta ra!

What the hell is that about?? What is the point of this email??

I sat for ages looking at the screen trying to come up with a suitable reply that conveyed a friendly tone but nothing that suggested any desire to return to how things were. But then realised that actually, I think he’s a tosser and I don’t see why I should try and be friendly because I don’t want to get drawn back into his stupid games.

So, I deleted it !

To Blog Or Not To Blog

2010-07-03T18:29:00.003+01:00

A little while ago, when I was waiting for my daughter at the dentist, I read an article that has been playing on my mind ever since.

Basically it was a piece by someone who was clearly irritated by the whole social networking trend. It was a witty piece where he gave his views on Twitter and Facebook which I suppose I share to an extent as I’m not involved with either. But then he moved on to the blogging community which he said was a complete and utter waste of time.

He questioned exactly what sort of person feels the need to share information with the world in a blog and then he went on to answer by saying it was losers who clearly have a lack of identity because they need to share who they are. He said it comes from living in a very narcissistic age where unless people recognise you, you cease to exist and that in the real world, they were probably very uninteresting people. Blogging, he said, was a way of making sure you are connected to someone and that most bloggers are they types who secretly wish they had the guts to be on Big Brother.

I was a bit miffed. Maybe because I recognised something in what was written but not totally.

Why do I write a blog? Why do I record such detail which, if discovered and traced back to me could, no probably would, destroy the family life I have?? Is it to do with a lack if identity?? I don’t think so. I think it’s more about feeling safe enough to show a part of me that I don’t have the freedom to do in my everyday life. But why do I need to do that? Is it narcissm to want to document who I am for public consumption?

I may admit to dipping in to Big Brother from time to time and imagining how I would deal with various situations in that house but I certainly have no desire to be on that or any other reality show. I’m not that much of a wannabe but if I’m honest, I suppose deep down I wish I was a someone. Maybe that’s why I was the first to encourage my daughter when she showed a clear talent and desire to perform. I’ve done my motherly duty in warning her that she is entering a cut-throat industry where few make it but I also feel I owe it to her to encourage her dreams. And of course if she does make it, I’ll be a “someone” through her…..

However, I have taken that article quite personally as it demeans and mocks my need to blog.

It’s been nearly two years since I started this online diary and I believe that writing it has really helped to improve my emotional wellbeing. I’ve always known from when I used to keep a handwritten journal that the act of writing allows you to explore your inner self in a deep and intimate way. My blog has become my place to document and then examine the situations I find myself in, confront my fears and work out how to get on top of my emotions. Together with comments (positive and negative) from those who have followed my journey and those that drop by, it has become a great sounding board.Those comments have also been useful for seeing more positive aspects of myself and this has been especially useful in battling my recent almost overwhelming feelings of depression.

I read all sorts of blogs. Ones like mine that are quite personal, ones that invite discussion, records of parenthood, ones that contain the most amazing photos. There are no rules but each one satisfies the writer ….and me, the reader.

For me reflective writing is immensely therapeutic for lots of reasons - self improvement, a way to vent fear, anger, humour or depression, and a way to learn new perspectives.

So I don’t care what that bloke said, I’m not going to give it up any time soon.

Office Talk

2010-06-29T20:04:00.005+01:00

We’re going through a bit of a quiet time at work. We’ve got lots of summer events in late July and August but until then we’ve got some breathing space. It means however that our daily mid-morning progress meeting which should only be a few minutes at the moment, has been getting longer and longer as we seem to talk about everything OTHER than work. For example, this morning’s meeting lasted an hour and we discussed a whole host of random topics and I still have no idea how each one came up.

For instance, the subject of jeans was discussed and how long it was OK to leave them between washes. One person said she washed everything after wearing it once without exception but most other people said they let denim go a few wears before bunging them in the washing machine. However, one young lady said that she had bought a pair in March that she lives in when she’s not at work and they hadn’t had a first wash yet !!! She couldn’t understand why everyone was ughing and yeuching !!!

Then we moved on to how the supermarket checkout is fast becoming a place of huge stress as the whole packing thing is really difficult to do quickly and there was discussion about whether we should finish filling the bags once the total to pay has been announced, and the reward card has been asked for, and if there is a parking ticket to be validated and if we want cashback, etc or whether we should deal with that first and then continue packing after but then of course the next person’s stuff starts to join yours and that actually whatever you do, the people behind will be tutting and rolling their eyes and adding to the stress factor.

It was then noticed that one person (actually the girl who never washes her jeans) was wearing the same clothes as yesterday and there was much cackling as the group cast guesses on why that should be the case and she maintained that it wasn’t a problem as she always kept spare underwear, a tootbrush, toothpaste, perfume and make up in her desk which generated a whole new discussion about what everyone keeps in their drawers and I was really quite shocked…..

Then the agenda moved on to who everyone would like to look like if they could and it seemed unanimous that the girls want to look like Jennifer Aniston and the boys like David Beckham.

The girl with the unwashed jeans then asked if her new boyfriend was right to make a fuss about the fact that she was taking eight pairs of shoes on a four day minibreak…..????

And finally there was some considerable debate on what it is that makes Come Dine With Me such good viewing.

Oh, and I was allowed a paltry two minutes to assign a new job that had come in and check on the progress of one small event we have on the go at the moment. And then everyone went back to their desks which are clearly full of all sorts of illicit booty.

I did try to be a proper manager during that meeting and maintain pursed lips and disapproving looks and not join in with the laughter or inane chatter but …… I may have failed !

Dress Your Age

2010-06-25T08:39:00.002+01:00

A few weeks ago when it was still cold and the sun was refusing to shine, I was rummaging though my wardrobe when at the back I found a skirt that I had forgotten all about because I had grown out of it. I was quite excited seeing it again and I remembered that I hadn’t tried it on since losing all that weight last year. And so I stepped into it and yay, it fit. In fact, without wanting to boast (well OK just a bit) it was slightly loose !!

It’s a lovely black fitted skirt which flares out just about the knee and is very flattering. I wore it with a long black jacket and sheer (not opaque) tights and I have to say, I felt very cute as I looked at myself in the mirror.

However, as I came down the stairs to my darling teenagers who were waiting for me to drive them to school, my son said “Lordy, Ma! you’ve forgotten to put your trousers on” !! I knew what he meant immediately and as I looked in the mirror it did appear as if I had come down in just the jacket, tights and heels !! I asked my daughter if it was that bad and she put her head to one side and looked for a second before judgement and then proclaimed that my skirt was too short for someone my age !!!!????!!!!

All that delight at finding something that fit again evaporated in an instant! I looked a fool. What’s worse an old fool trying to look young !

It’s in the charity bag now.

Thing is, I really want to take it back out. I’ve actually got good legs. They are quite long from the knee to the ankle which gives the impression that I’m showing a lot of leg when I wear a shorter skirt but actually I’m not! It’s not as if I wear miniskirts like my daughter that barely cover her pert little bottom. Maybe though, at my age, shorter flirty skirts are quite simply a no-no.

I’m fortunate that even without the use of botox (yes, really), I look quite a lot younger than I am which is great but it means I’m confused about what to wear. I’m not ready to dress like my mother but I really shouldn’t be dressing like my daughter. Not that I would ever borrow her clothes but she takes mine which suggests what I’m buying for myself is too young. But I shop in mumsy places like Wallis and Monsoon and Marks and I’m careful to buy things that I think are elegant and stylish - not fashionable.

I often see women younger than me dressing like the kids and bizarrely it has the effect of adding on decades. Teenage clothes don't make you look sexy - they just make you look old. I know that much.

The women who look great are the ones who dress in the way that’s best for them and I always thought that's what I did. Even though I’m slimmer than I was, I know I can’t wear tight skimpy clothes in the hope they’ll make me look curvaceous. I’ve always known that clothes that fit well and hint at what’s underneath are much more flattering for an older woman.

I have a confidence in my body and my sexuality now that I never had before but I still know that doesn’t make it OK to wear a mini-skirt. But goddammit, the skirt in the charity bag isn’t a miniskirt, just slightly shorter than I normally wear.

Oh bugger it! I’m off to rescue that skirt and whatsmore as the sun is shining brightly today, I’m going to wear my short white skirt…….with bare legs !!! So there.

If I’m going to do this getting old thing, I might as well do it disgracefully!

Finding The One

2010-06-21T19:25:00.002+01:00

A friend of mine came round for dinner on Saturday night, with her new man.

I met Mandy over twenty years ago when she was going out with one of Ewan’s closest mates. We got on really well together and when she dumped Michael, because he had the audacity to ask her to marry him, we stayed friends.

I always thought she had made a big mistake, as Michael is lovely. He was devastated when they broke up but about a year later he met someone else who he married and they went on to have three beautiful children. Splitting up with Mandy was the best thing that could have happened to him as he found a woman who totally adores him.

Mandy always told me that she didn’t regret her decision but I knew it hit her hard when we told her he was getting married and then, each time she found out he’d had another baby. But she said the reason she didn’t want to marry him was because he wasn’t The One and she didn’t want to just settle. I couldn’t understand it because she acknowledged that he was thoroughly gorgeous and decent and great in bed and kind and generous and that in fact there was nothing wrong with him but she felt he was second best to what she was looking for and that she wouldn’t know what that was until she found it.

Of course, deep down, I knew what she meant. Ewan and Michael are very similar and although I was aware from the start that Ewan wasn’t The One it didn’t matter because on paper he had everything I was looking for and I wasn’t convinced that I would ever find a better fit. And he loved me and I found him incredibly attractive and attentive so unlike Mandy, I did settle – I wasn’t brave enough to do anything else.

And as the years went by and I watched Mandy, I knew I had done the right thing. She drifted in and out of relationships, desperately lonely but desperate not to put up with anyone that wasn’t right.

The longest relationship she had lasted about five years. He was a television presenter and we all thought he must be the one but while they were away on holiday she suddenly announced that this wasn’t what she wanted and it had to end before she found herself in a rut. He told us later that he had a ring in his pocket and had found the perfect spot to propose and had been waiting until the last day of their holiday to do just that. I was heartbroken on her behalf but she just got up, dusted herself down and got on with life, only slightly stunned when within the year, he married an ex-girlfriend.

Once she hit her forties, she found it incredibly hard. Everything (and it seemed, everyone) was telling her that she was getting older and the longer she left it the less chance there would be to have the family she so wanted and that she shouldn’t be so “picky”. But if anything she seemed to be more resolute in her desire to hold out for true love.

She often told me that she would know him when she met him. That her soul would recognise her perfect mate. It sounded like a bad song to me. She wanted what her parents had before her mother died. And I have to admit that when I met them at Mandy’s big fortieth birthday party, they were so adorable together. Very close…still holding hands and still looking at each other when something made them laugh. I did think that was very special.

She’s forty eight now and recently she told me that she had given up all hope of having children and that she was frightened of growing old alone and that increasingly she had been thinking of past relationships and wondering if she had been foolish in letting them go so easily. But even in that conversation she said she knew the right man was out there.

And reader, I have to tell you – I think she’s found him!

She brought Hugh round on Saturday night and he is indeed, wonderful. They only met last month but they have seen each other practically every day and they look like a couple who have been together for years. Very easy in each other’s company and the way he looks at her made my heart melt. His hand on her back or the occasional touch of her face and her pure radiance in his company which I have NEVER seen in all the time that I have known her was just so moving. And I think it touched Ewan too because he, in turn, was very attentive to me, kissing me on the top of the head as he passed by to take the dishes out, taking my hand as he asked if I wanted him to do the coffee. In fact, he does that sort of thing all the time and I guess I have always just taken it for granted. But Hugh pointed it out when we were talking about relationships and said that we were clearly a special couple as twenty years together hadn’t stopped the obvious affection and that he hoped, twenty years from now, he would still be kissing the top of Mandy’s head…….

I had to disappear off to the loo then to have a quick cry. How lovely that he thinks me and Ewan are special. How stupid am I to think that we’re not. Maybe I did settle for Ewan but I realise now, that’s because he WAS the right man. For all his faults, he is so perfect for me. No one else would have put up with me for all these years the way he has.

I’m so pleased that Mandy has finally found The One after all this time but it’s only dawning on me now, how lucky I am, that I found mine twenty years ago.

Did You Know

2010-06-15T14:21:00.004+01:00

From time to time, I like to do a meme. They are a good way of focusing the mind and readers could find out something they didn’t know before. It’s also something any of you are free to take and use but I’m not going to tag anyone. Most of all though, it’s something to post when you can’t think of a single other thing to write about……

First memory
When I was little I had a childminder who took me on when I was less than a year old. She had a dog called Carly and apparently we were inseparable. She used to follow me around and there are some gorgeous black and white photos of the two of us together. I think my first memory is of her barking when I fell over in the back garden and started crying. She was adorable.
Religious faith
I was christened when I was a baby and it was important to me that I married in a Church and that I had my children christened and that my father had a Christian funeral. But I don’t go to Church regularly except on Christmas Day and maybe at Easter. I do find though, that when I’m on my own and see a Church open, I like to go in and spend some time in quiet meditation. I’m not clever enough to argue the point but I do believe that there is a higher power. Someone looking out for us. It’s an easy thing to shout down though and people often have when I have admitted this so I tend to keep quiet. It seems that most religions spread the same message of love and forgiveness and that can’t be a bad thing to follow.
Best friend
I don’t have one and I think that might be the root of my issues. I can’t seem to allow myself to get that close to any one person even though I surround myself with lots of people. I suppose my husband is my closest friend and increasingly, my daughter who recently I have been getting on so well with and who is turning out to be one of the funniest people I know.
Beauty routine
I’m a bit lax really. I don’t cleanse, tone and moisturise as often as I should although I seem to have gathered a collection of lavish, expensive products for the job. It’s easier just to wash my face with soap and water and then slap on loads of Nivea. I don’t wear that much make up during the day so that when I put lots on to go out, I feel dramatically different !
Best trait
I think that basically I am a kind, compassionate person and I know people are drawn to me because I am a good listener. I also have a loud laugh which people love to hear if they have just made a pathetic joke !!
Worst trait
Probably that loud laugh! And a seriously bad temper.
Blair babe, glam Cam
Oh per-lease !! Give me strength – there has to be another choice…..
Biggest regret
There are probably loads but I learnt long ago that there is no point dwelling on them. The most successful people seem to be the ones who learn from their mistakes and refuse to wish their life was any different.
Cat or dog person
Because of Carly, I always thought I was a dog person but when I was a teenager a very haughty ginger cat decided to adopt us. He just stalked in one day and stayed and surprisingly my mother let him. I think she recognised something of herself in him. Everything was on his terms. He came and went as he pleased, gave affection if he so chose and seemed to get pissed off and impatient very quickly and for no real reason. He was a complete pain in the arse….and I loved him to bits. He disappeared about three years after he first pitched up and we learnt that actually he really belonged to the family across the road who took him with them when they moved.
Last got drunk
Saturday, at a Come On Engerland party – shameful !
High maintenance
Uhmm…… have you not read this blog?? Of course I am - BIG TIME !!!
Backpacker or designer suitcases
Did you not read my last answer?? Definitely not backpacker – if it hasn’t got ensuite facilities and fluffy towels, I’m not interested !!
What clothing makes you feel good
Anything that makes me think I look good …..and I love it if I find something old that suddenly fits again!!
Signature look
Usually black trousers or skirt, with a colourful top and heels – very boring!
City or country living
I couldn’t live anywhere where there are no street lights!
Phone or text
I use the phone too much at work so I try to avoid it all other times and I hate talking into a mobile. I seem unable to do that quietly and still shout ….in that Dom Joly fashion!
Won the lottery what would you do
I fantasise about this all the time. Pay off debts, make sure the children have what they need, give up my job and find a worthy charity who could benefit from my experience and some of my new found fortune!
I don’t play though so I’m not quite sure how that will happen …….

Pants

2010-06-11T07:39:00.002+01:00

Today my husband said that he can't remember buying any underwear in the twenty odd years that we have been married. I concede he may be correct as that may be something I have been doing ......

Is that so weird??

A Taste Of India

2010-06-07T07:00:00.004+01:00

My nephew, well actually Ewan’s nephew as it his brother’s son, got married at the weekend.

I feel like Daniel is mine as he was only about seven when Ewan and I got together and I fell in love with him straight away as he was and still is, soooo cute. He often stayed with us during the school hols when he was little as both his parents worked away a lot and he went to a boarding school. As a result we are very close and Sasha and Kyle look up to him as their complete and ultimate hero. He is such a gentleman and I marvel at how perfect he is in every way – gorgeous looking (like a model), clever (he’s a doctor) and very affectionate and caring. I absolutely adore him and am very proud to call him my nephew.

He introduced us to Trusha when he was at university. She too was studying to be a doctor and they hit it off straight away. She is an incredibly beautiful Indian girl and they make such a perfect couple. She’s very close to her family and also very sweet and kind. She was worried that her family wouldn’t accept Daniel but of course, when she finally admitted she was seeing him and they met him, they fell in love with him too and gave their blessing. In the same way, I loved her the moment I met her – she is so special.

The wedding was up in York and even though we’re at the start of exam season, we made a weekend of it. On Friday, we spent the day with Dan and had a family evening with him which was lovely and then Saturday was the Big Day. Trusha and her family are Catholics so the wedding was a very traditional church affair. She was probably one of the most beautiful brides I have ever seen. It was a beautiful service and I think I cried more than Dan’s mum – I’m so pathetic !

It was the reception that made the day though. Trusha’s family spared absolutely no expense. They are clearly very wealthy and so it was held at their stunning home in a jasmine-filled marquee in their huge garden, which smelled exquisite.. Drink was flowing from the point we arrived and I was quite typsy long before we sat down to the meal. Her family were so hospitable and friendly and completely charming. They made sure all of Dan’s family had what we needed and they were also very entertaining. All the women were just stunning in their beautiful, colourful and vibrant, silk sarees and I felt very boring in my pale pink outfit. We were sitting at a table with Ewan’s sister and vile husband and Trusha’s aunt and uncle and their families and they really put us to shame as they are clearly very close and see a lot of each other.

And boy, did they know how to drink. Trusha’s aunt, Preeti, kept coming back from the bar with large measures of scotch and she didn’t seem at all affected whereas Ewan and myself were really quite drunk but desperatly trying to be well-behaved, although I couldn't stop giggling!!

There were lots of chidren and young people there and so we lost Sasha and Kyle very early on but they had a ball too. I just have to hand it to Trusha’s family as there was course after course of the most beautiful indian food (and boring bland English food for people like Ewan’s brother-in-law who “can’t stand” anything spicy !) and they insisted we tried everything which we did because it was all just gorgeous and unlike anything I’ve tried at Indian restaurants.

It was just a fantastic wedding and I think Indian families really know how to have a good time. The English side just came across as boring and actually, quite ignorant. I was speaking to Trusha’s mother, who is lovely, and while we were chatting, Dan’s gran (his mother’s mum) came over to say that she was having a lovely time and then she put her hand on Nisha’s arm and said “we knew what to expect about your culture because we watched ‘Bride and Prejudice’ last week and (…wait for this!) we went to Barbados a couple of years ago” !!!! Nisha just smiled and gave her a hug but I was deeply embarrased. What must they think of us ??

We didn’t leave until the early hours of the morning and we were surrounded by the London contingent of Trusha’s family who were insistent that we come to their regular parties as we are now part of the family. I feel so flattered by that. They were all such lovely, warm, kind people who look out for each other.

I want to be an honourary Indian !

Walking In The Dark

2010-06-03T07:17:00.003+01:00

So last week, I went off to the Peak District with team leaders from our Glasgow and Manchester offices that were part of the election events that we were involved with, to talk about what went well and what didn’t and how we provide an even better service in the future.

In addition we ran some obligatory team building exercises as well. I didn’t have to take part in those but the last one was a midnight walk from A to B with just one map, a compass and a couple of torches. After a fabulous dinner and a few drinks in the bar, I decided I would join them as it was a great group and we were all having such a laugh. It wasn’t too arduous. Several bottles of wine between us all took away any fear of the dark!

As we were ambling along, I was enjoying a chat with Michael from the Manchester office when he suddenly asked me if I could hear what the others were talking about in front of us. He said it was good gossip material and he was surprised it had taken this long to come up and then he shouted over to the girls from the Glasgow office, “Is he still seeing that pretty young thing with the long red hair?” and the girls dropped back and said “No. It’s another broken heart. This one has taken it so bad that she’s leaving and going round the world on her own.” And they started giggling. Bemused, I asked who they were talking about and Michael simply said “Chris Cooper”. It came completely out of the blue and felt like a hard punch in the stomach...

I have done a good job of keeping Chris out of my head all these years. Given that he works for the same organisation as me, it is inevitable that I hear his name at various meetings or see his name on the odd group email but I have never had need to speak to him since…well, since he dumped me. I have sometimes wondered if I might meet him at an event, especially when I’m up in Scotland, but I usually know by the time I go that he is not involved which makes it safe for me to attend. Although deep down at some level, I suppose, I have been wishing I might see him again, even now, after all this time.

Anyway, everyone on this black walk was now talking about him. “You know him, don’t you?” said Michael. I almost wondered then if it was a cruel joke that they had come up with because they had somehow found out about our relationship and were trying to find out more. I stammered that I hadn’t seen him in years but that we had worked together in Australia back in 2004. “Did he try it on with you” asked Heather . “ No !”shrieked Zoe “He wouldn’t. Selina’s well out of his league…..although hang on, he did have a thing with Iona didn’t he....years ago?” “Well that was never proven” said Ben “although it does beg the question why did she then ask him to go to Australia.” “Did they keep sneaking off together?” Eddie asked me as they all laughed loudly.

Suddenly I felt ill. There was a bench nearby and I had to sit down as the others gathered round, concerned. I told them I had a stitch and needed a second. If I wasn’t terrified about making it back alone in the dark, I would have told them all to go on as I didn’t want to hear their idle chatter anymore but as it was, they were all quite happy to plonk themselves on the grass around me and carry on revealing what they knew about Chris’ sordid life.

Over the next half hour, I listened to the group talk about him and I learnt such a lot.

He clearly had got it on with Iona many years ago. Then there was a young Muslim girl who worked briefly in the office and who left broken-hearted and feeling violated because she didn’t even realise he was married and he had promised her all sorts. Then there was a woman he met in New York when he was out on a job there. And then he had a very “serious” relationship with Katie, from our office in London.

And at once, I remembered having a long conversation with Katie in the ladies’ loo a few years ago when I found her crying and it all spilled out that she was having an affair with a married man and that it was made doubly difficult because he lived so far away and that he was going to leave his wife but he just needed to see his daughter into her new school because he was such a loving father but his wife was a bitch and he deserved someone who truly loved him and that’s why what she was doing wasn’t wrong.…….When I caught up with her a few months later she said that it was over as he had dropped her, saying that he loved his wife and couldn’t leave !

And then lately, it had been the girl with the long red hair who had caught Chris’ attention. And now it seems he’s on the prowl again as a young Italian girl is due to start in the Glasgow office for the summer. She’s a real beauty apparently and the group were laughing and taking bets on how long before he managed to bed her.

During the barrage of revelations, Michael did say that he had a drunken conversation with Chris a few years back when he admitted that he was seeing someone and that this one was different and not like any of the rest and that the sex was like nothing he had ever experienced. I sat up then, wondering if maybe, maybe that was me. That I wasn’t one of this long list of conquests but someone important in his life. Because what we had didn’t match what was being talked of here as cheap, nasty gossip. Zoe and Heather asked all the questions that I wanted to know in a bid to find out who it was and it transpired it was ....... Katie. Katie with her short skirts and very high heels. Yes, of course it was Katie. Katie would be very good at the whole sex thing.

As we walked back, I did a brilliant job of pretending to be interested in what the others were saying and laughing loudly so that they would have no suspicions that the Chris talk had so upset me. But as soon as I got into my room, I burst into tears. I think I cried all night as I remembered that time in Australia and how he had played me so perfectly.

I had always thought we had something so special and yet all the time I was just another in a queue of stupid, pathetic women ready to fall for his practised lines. I can’t put into words how I feel at the moment.

I know I’m not deserving of any sympathy as I chose to jump into bed with him, knowing full well I had a husband and family waiting for me at home. But what lured me into his bed, was the pretence that he wanted to be my friend and the promise of his friendship seemed so true and so enticing.

I also know that I am a prize fool and the pain of that is palpable.

Looking Back

2010-05-28T18:35:00.003+01:00

Apologies in advance, as this is going to be a very long entry.

I’ve just come back from a couple of days away where I had to oversee an election debrief with the team leaders from our offices in Manchester and Glasgow. I want to write about something I heard there but I need to put it into context by first re-posting some entries that I published soon after I started this blog. Sorry if you’ve read these already but I need to collect my thoughts and doing this gives me some time to get my head together.

The Second Affair
My second affair happened six years ago but it still feels so recent - probably because I still don’t think I'm truly over it. It was completely different to my fling with Ollie which, let's face it, was only about sex.

It started when one of the directors of the company I worked for, Iona, decided to pursue a better life in Australia and she wanted to see if she could run a branch of the business out there. So, she asked me to join her for a while to help set it up. She also asked a guy called Chris who was part of our team in Scotland. He was someone I knew of but had never actually met.

The offer came at just the right time and it was a challenge I needed. Ewan and myself were having serious problems. If we weren't arguing we had nothing to say to each other. We both decided the five week trip would be a good opportunity to try living apart for a while. He thought it was what we needed to get us back on track but I wasn’t so sure.

I really didn't go with any other intention than working hard to make the new office successful ....and maybe to get some much needed sun after yet another appalling British summer. Iona had already been out there for a month and she arranged for Chris and myself to travel out there together to join her. I had wanted to travel alone as I needed the space. The thought of making small talk with a stranger for twenty-two hours filled me with dread. Iona had already booked the flights and accommodation though, so there was nothing I could do.

I remember going to the airport early and checking in quickly so that I wouldn't have to sit with him! But I hadn't been in the lounge for long before he found me!! I immediately felt guilty because he asked me very pleasantly if I wanted to be alone or if he could join me. Of course, I couldn't say no to the latter and actually to my shame, we hit it off straight away.

Our flight was delayed for a couple of hours and in that time, I had him opening up about all sorts of things - including how his marriage was in trouble. I recognised a lot of what he was saying from what was going on in my own life and threw in my twopenny advice. He told me that he had never met anyone he could speak to so openly before.

In a last minute rush then, we got his seat changed so that he could be next to me and we had a great flight together. I've never known time to go so quickly. We talked and laughed and found we had a lot in common. It was just so easy and I really enjoyed being with him.

It was evening when we got to Sydney and there was a message at the hotel from Iona saying that she had to meet an important contact and couldn't join us so we had a lovely dinner on our own. By the end of the meal, I had told him all about the problems in my marriage. I never do that - I don't tell anyone anything about myself but with him I felt that he genuinely wanted to know and it felt good opening up to him.

We had arrived on the Saturday and got stuck into work pretty much straight away. On the Wednesday, we had got back to the hotel late after entertaining potential clients and gone to our rooms. I had just showered and got into bed when there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find him standing there with a couple of miniature bottles of brandy from his mini bar.

"I can't sleep" he said, in his gorgeous Scots accent "You don't fancy a drink do you?"

And so he came in and we did, in fact, talk for quite a while. He was sitting on my bed and then suddenly he just moved towards me and kissed me. He told me he had wanted to do that since the first moment he saw me and that's how it started, in earnest.

We spent all our time out of work together which meant we got very little sleep. Because I was able to talk to him so freely, I told him all my fantasies - things I had never even told Ewan. As a result, the sex was amazing. But more than that, it was just lovely being so close to someone.

It's simple things that make my heart race when I think back to that time. We went to the beach one weekend and he had gone off to get ice creams and I just remember watching him walking back to me, his shirt completely unbuttoned, revealing that amazing body. His soft, soft skin looked so brown against that white shirt..... I still feel light-headed thinking about how much I wanted him at that moment.

As the weeks went by, we knew that at the end of it we would both go back to our partners. It was understood but it just made our time together so much more precious.

Saying Goodbye
That time in Australia and our relationship meant so much to me.

For a few short weeks, I was with someone from whom nothing was hidden. I held back from allowing myself to fall completely but although I wasn't in love with him, it was something very similar. More than the physical, it was being able to talk so openly and to be with someone who couldn't get enough of me. That feeling of being needed, wanted, desired is very addictive.

On the flight back to London, we were both quiet. We reflected on the trip and what it meant to each of us. He told me that he never wanted to lose me as a friend and that I was to phone him or email him whenever I needed to talk and I was so grateful to know that for the rest of my life I would have a friend who knew me so totally. We talked about how we would deal with our problems back at home, how we would both make a go of our marriages, knowing that we had each other to turn to for support and understanding.

When we landed, he helped me load my luggage onto my trolley and then told me to go. I wanted to wait for him but he said that we had to say goodbye there. It had come too quickly but I knew he was right. So I put my arms around him and he held me tightly as we kissed and I just wanted to stay like that forever and not go back into that world that was waiting for me. Eventually, we broke apart, he told me to go and I walked away.

I didn't turn back, even though I wanted to with every fibre of my being. But instead, I walked through the doors to Ewan and the kids who were waiting for me. As soon as I saw them I burst into tears. They thought it was because I was happy to be reunited with them after so long, but only I knew I was crying for what I was leaving behind.

How It Finally Ended
After we said goodbye at the airport, I spent an evening catching up with my family but before I went to bed, I took my phone into the bathroom and texted him goodnight. He replied immediately saying he felt very alone in his London hotel. Even though I climbed into bed with Ewan that night, my heart was with Chris.

The next day, I had to take Sasha to a musical theatre workshop audition in Covent Garden. It was a beautiful crisp but sunny Autumn day and after I dropped her off, I had four hours to kill until I had to pick her up. While I was looking round the shops, I got a text from Chris. He said he had completed all his London meetings but his flight back to Glasgow wasn't until the evening, I told him where I was and within half an hour he was with there with me.

We had lunch outside on the Piazza but just like on the flight home, we didn't say much. We simply held hands and looked at each other, and that seemed to speak volumes. He did want to know though if I'd had sex with Ewan the night before. I told him that I had and he said the thought of that killed him but that it was OK because of course that evening he would be with his wife, Kaye. I hated the thought of that but said nothing.

While we were sitting there, we could hear an opera singer entertaining the crowds. She started singing Puccini's "O Mio Babbino Caro" and her voice was so beautiful that I thought my heart would burst. I looked at Chris and like me he had tears his eyes. Looking back now, I think I may have realised at that moment that it was really over and that there was no way we could even carry on a friendship. I can't hear that song now without thinking of that look on his face.

We walked to the tube station and this time there was no passionate kiss, he just squeezed my hand and walked away and within seconds he was engulfed in the crowds of commuters and tourists who swept him away from me.

We emailed and texted for a few weeks after that but he soon told me that he found it too difficult. He said it would be easier if we didn't communicate on a regular basis so I left him alone for a bit, even though I thought about him all the time.

Then, about a month later, Ewan and myself had the most almighty row which had been brewing for some time. Halfway through it, I snapped and said I'd had enough and that I was leaving. As I walked to the door, he grabbed me by the arms and said he wouldn't let me go and that running away wasn't the answer. I burst into tears then and I think had some sort of breakdown. I remember falling to the floor screaming in between great, racking sobs which seemed to come from deep within me. I was shaking and unable to breathe and Ewan cradled me and told me that everything would be OK and that he would look after me and help me through this, and I wondered if maybe, he knew.

Later when I was calm, he let me go off alone for a walk in the park and there of course, I called Chris to tell him what had happened. He listened, saying nothing. Then, when I finished he said, almost dispassionately, that he couldn't deal with this. That he wasn’t in the right place to be able to handle it. That he had his own problems and that he was sorry but a clean break was the only answer.

I couldn't belive it! This man....this man who promised to be my friend, in whom I had confided everything, was now telling me to go away. It felt as if he had ripped out my heart.

Once again in my life, I faced rejection and what felt like compete betrayal. Every inch of me wanted to curl up and let the world carry on without me for a while, but this time I made an immediate decision that I wasn't going to break.

I took a deep breath, wiped away my tears and returned home to Ewan.

Getting Over It
Although I made a decision that day in the park to carry on after he dumped me so unceremoniously, it took me a long, long time to get over it.

I felt so alone after that phone call. I found myself thinking of him constantly and even though I knew I had to get back to living my life, I felt such a fool. I couldn't quite believe that what we had was just over, so soon and unexpectedly. From the moment we had met at the airport, I thought I'd found a friend but it was clearly different for him and that felt like a kick in the stomach.

I was so angry for so long . So terribly sad and confused and constantly on the edge of tears. I couldn't understand why he would tell me that he couldn't deal with this, when together, we had gone over the problems we might face on our return and promised to be there for each other, however bad it got. Whenever I thought of how he had almost cruelly dismissed me that day, it gave me such a physical pain in my chest that I truly thought I might be seriously ill. It was the not understanding that was the crux of the issue - what had I done to deserve this treatment from him?

I kept running over in my head exactly what I would say to him the next time he got in touch. How I would let him know what a shit I thought he was to push me away when I needed him the most. But of course, he never did contact me - he cut me off completely and it hurt like hell to know that he was just not bothered.

I desperately wanted to tell someone but I looked at my friends and there was no one I could confide in. I knew they would judge me or tell me I was stupid and so I dealt with it alone. Or rather I didn't - I was in a sorry state for a long time and at one stage I thought I would never get over it. I had pinned such a lot of hope and expectation on him which is not something I normally do and that made it all the worse. Whenever I had any time to myself, it was that thought that made me cry the most and I hated him for making me feel like that.

I don't hate him now though and my heart and stomach don't churn so much when I think of him. Because however much I try not to think about him, I do. His face often comes swimming into view and I find myself remembering him yet again. I do wonder if I will ever truly get over him but even so, this feeling has in a way been more bearable than when Lee left me. Unlike then, there has been no time in the last six years when I have wanted to end my life, although there were many times that I didn't think I could get out of bed to face the day.

Not very long ago, I realised that in order to truly move on, I have to remember my time with Chris with great affection and no bitterness. After all these years though, I still want to see him and talk to him because I know I never did anything wrong and I've never understood why he went so cold on me.

Part of me now also believes though, that he's simply not worth my emotion - even though he has taken so much of it.

Being Shy

2010-05-24T17:06:00.004+01:00

Maybe I should change the title of this blog to “From The Therapist’s Couch” as all I seem to write about these days are things he has said to me or events I have told him about.
Today isn’t going to be any different, I'm afraid.

On Thursday, the therapist suggested that I was fundamentally a shy person and my efforts to cover that up could be one of the reasons I have felt a bit lost recently and not sure who I really am. That was an eye opener to me though I’m fully aware that those who know me would laugh loudly at that idea. I’m the bubbly one, the one with the laugh, the one so suited to my job because I’m a natural party animal which makes me ideal to run public events. I am the epitome of an extrovert.

But when he told me I could be quite shy I knew straight away that it was true. I was taken right back to my childhood when I was about five or six and my dad had come home with some guests who greeted me and asked me how I was. When I didn’t know what to say, he told me to say hello and I remember feeling really anxious and I turned my face into the wall and said nothing. He excused himself from his visitors and took me into the kitchen and told me that my behaviour was unacceptable and that when people spoke to me I MUST answer as it was just plain rude to ignore them. I remember crying and saying that I felt shy and my normally affectionate Dad was very sharp and unsympathetic. He told me to stop crying and that there was no such thing as being shy and that he didn’t ever want to hear that from me again. I had to go back in that room, smile and speak to them.

I remember after that I always made sure I was the one to start a conversation and even now, if I’m in a group of people I always feel that it is my responsibility to keep the dialogue flowing even though I’m always telling myself it is not my role to play the court jester.

It’s all to do with a fear of rejection I suppose.

Even though we tend to go to a lot of parties, I never look forward to them. I will often tell Ewan that I don’t want to go and will leave getting ready to the last minute. He has learnt to ignore me now but on the way to any do, even parties held by close friends or family, I will be anxious. My heart will race and/or my head will pound but once I’m there, I’m the very life and soul. How ridiculous is that? I have become extremely skilled at portraying pure confidence and I am very good at meeting new people in social situations.

The therapist just nodded at all that and said it matched classic signs of overcompensating for being shy but that I was doing all the right things and that actually I just needed to be aware that it wasn’t my natural persona and that I wasn’t to get confused by that. That it’s OK to be quiet at times and to let others be the funny one and to be assured that people will still like me.

He said the shy side of me is actually what makes me a good listener and not at all phased at the thought of being left alone. I’m not a typical extrovert in that I need people around me. I really don’t. I’m very happy in my own company – it’s probably the only time I’m really myself.

It was a good session. I like learning about me !

A Political Game

2010-05-16T19:50:00.002+01:00

So after the recent political hiatus, things seem to be settling down but I have found it all absolutely fascinating.

I've stopped short of posting what I think here over the election period, but comments I have left on other blogs have probably given away my political allegiance! I thought though, just for a bit of fun (and in a massive name-dropping exercise!!), I would give my take on some of the leaders that I have met over this campaign and leave you to match the names to the descriptions - some of them were surprising, I have to say…..

Over the last six weeks or so at the various events I have been involved with, I have met Gordon Brown, David Cameron, Nick Clegg, Alex Salmond, Ieuean Wyn Jones and Nick Griffin !
And here in no particular order are descriptions of each:

a) Very charming and he greeted me, as he did last time we met, with a warm handshake and an apology for forgetting my name. He seemed genuinely interested in what I would be doing over the election period and had a lovely twinkle in his eye when he spoke about his family. He apologised again for breaking our conversation when an aide came to tell him something. He then revealed with a deep laugh that it was the latest football score for his team.

b) More pleasant than I expected but he tried too hard to be personable which worked against him. He pretended too hard to be interested in what I was saying, nodding away like a Churchill dog. He tried to be tactile too, even though it didn't come naturally and so made me want to recoil. The people around him looked really quite scary and I didn't feel at all comfortable in his presence. He was like an awkward overgrown schoolboy.

c) Very entertaining! The sort of person I would love to go out to dinner with as he tells a story well, though he has a very sharp side as I saw him cut someone down in a discussion about tax. However I know he took a shine to me and he made me laugh a lot and in turn, laughed at a couple of things I said which is always a winning quality as far as I'm concerned! We talked about the X-Factor versus Strictly Come Dancing and how he thinks British TV drama is pathetic compared to what the Americans do. I loved him and he clearly loves the company of women.

d) This one reminded me of my dad a bit. Nothing to do with age or the way he looks but just something quiet and unassuming about him that seemed quite unusual for the leader of a political party. I warmed to him although he wasn't the best conversationalist I have ever met. We had a jazz band at the event and he was quite enthusiastic about them. He just seemed faintly old-fashioned and I liked him because of it. He didn't even seem to have a mobile phone - just kept talking into the ones his aides kept bringing over. Very cute!

e) I was genuinely shocked that he looked at my boobs as he shook hands with me. He was polite enough but not particularly warm although he did keep touching my arm during conversation in a very practised way. I noticed his ready smile always faded quickly and that he spent more time with his aides than in working the room.

f) Polite and pleasant enough but also somewhat aloof and clearly indifferent to anyone when there wasn't a camera around. I got the sense that he wasn't listening to me during our brief chat and was too busy looking round the room for better opportunities. The only thing that did impress me was that he came over to say goodbye and remembered my name (I'm so easily enamoured by that sort of thing, I can't tell you) !!

So that's it and now, I leave it to you to work out. Bet you don't get them all right ......

Second Thoughts

2010-05-11T06:14:00.002+01:00

Maybe I was a bit harsh before.

As ever, I spoke to the therapist about how I was feeling and he told me that I am NOT a man hater. That I only had to look back at my history with men to know that. He suggested that actually, I adore men! That I enjoy their company and revel in the attention they lavish on me which is, rightly or wrongly, what validates my existence.

He said that perhaps with the exception of Ewan's mistake, none of the men in my life had actually treated me "badly". They just didn't treat me the way I wanted and were just flawed, as so many men (and yes, women too) tend to be when it comes to being honest in relationships.

He said any emotional damage I suffered came because I allowed it. I didn't take steps at the time to notice the danger signs and even if I was aware of them, I didn't do anything about it. So when the inevitable happened, it was easier to blame all men for being weak and dishonest and claim to hate them all rather than to look at the reasons that past relationships have ended the way they have.

Quite brutal ! But the therapist is very good at covering that iron fist with a velvet glove so that it doesn't hurt when he delivers the blow. It only begins to ache once I have left and start to mull over what he has said. I've been thinking about it a lot and even though it pains me, of course he's right.

Just knowing that makes me feel much better

Not Happy

2010-05-05T09:04:00.004+01:00

I haven’t felt like posting in a while.

For one thing it has been really busy and I have been travelling around the country working on various election events. I have a couple more, one later today and then another on Friday which could be a celebration do or a sorry everyone, we didn’t make it but you were brilliant event . It really should be an exciting time and I should be riding the wave of success as, so far (touch wood), everything has gone very well. I watch all the younger staff who are working on their first election events and they have so much enthusiasm, but I’m just going through the motions with that false smile on my face.

In truth, I feel I’m being dragged back to that pit of depression that I have worked so hard to stay away from, what with the therapist and some soul-searching posts on this blog. It feels like I have said so much recently, digging right down inside of me, that I’ve been left feeling a bit empty. I didn’t think I had anything worthwhile left to say. So, I was going to write a dutiful post urging everyone to go out to vote, no matter who they support. Because this election, every vote will count to make sure the right party are in power.

However, my dear friend, Nancy has been on my mind recently.

She is the same age as me and has three children, but last year she discovered she was pregnant….with twins, They were due in February but Max and Maisie had other ideas and arrived early in January. They weren’t in the special care baby unit for very long. Although they were both tiny (and oh, so cute) they are both strong fighters, like their mother, and so she had them home at the beginning of February.

During the pregnancy, she often confided in me that she didn’t think she wanted the babies and couldn’t face the thought of putting her life aside again to look after them. She said she knew it was selfish and she hated herself for those thoughts but that she couldn’t help it. I have to admit I understood what she meant. This time of our lives is when we see the light. Our babies have grown into young adults and are about to set off on their own and we get to discover ourselves again. I have loved every minute of being a mother (well almost!) but having to start over again would be something I would find incredibly difficult too.

However, after the twins arrived and for that brief time when they needed special attention, Nancy was in a frenzy, praying that they would be OK and begging for forgiveness that she could even have considered that she didn’t want them. I was with her on the day they took Max out of the incubator and put him in her arms and she looked like a little girl again, lost in wonder and love as she cradled her beautiful new son properly for the first time. I’m welling up now thinking of that moment and how any feelings of doubt were long gone. She has since been a great mother to the twins and of course her three teens have been a real help and so, surprisingly, has her husband, Will.

They got married when they were in their early twenties but he has never fully appreciated just how lucky he was to be with a truly beautiful woman. In fact, because he had got himself a successful model, I think he thought he could get any woman he wanted. And so he did. He has been unfaithful to her so many times and they have split up and got back together more times than I can remember. The thing is, as much as I should hate him, I have to admit that I have always had a soft spot for him. He is great fun, incredibly good-looking and a real charmer and when he is not being a complete arse and looking at other women, he is an amazing husband and father. It is because of that, she always takes him back. And every time she takes him back, she gets pregnant! And he promises to change and he does for a bit and then he blows it. And now, when the twins are not even four months old he has done it again. A few days ago, he told her that he had met someone else. That this time it was different and that he was moving out. That he was sorry and that he would always be there for her and the children but that this woman understood him in a way that she never has and that Nancy would be better off without him.

We all spent the day with her on Bank Holiday Monday. She is trying to be very practical and matter of fact about how it has happened once too often and that she is used to it and that this time it really is over and she will never take him back but she won’t deny him access to the children and that she can cope because she has before …but the fact that she kept dissolving into floods of tears betrayed just how devastated she is.

Ewan was so lovely to Nancy and told her that he would be speaking to Will to find out what the hell is going on. He is a quite a wise thing really and he was very hands on with the twins, helping Sasha and Kyle to bathe them and put them to bed. But since we came home that night, even though he has done nothing wrong, I can’t bring myself to talk to him. I know he is confused.I haven’t slept for the last couple of nights and have been in a silent, seething rage that seems even worse this morning.

Sasha has always laughingly called me a man-hater but I realised last night that there is such truth in that. I am so angry with Will. But I’m also angry with men in general that they always seem to come out on top no matter what they do. And I’m angry that like so many women, I am weak and pathetic and have let them do me such emotional damage over the years. I know that yet again I have turned this round to be about me but it has triggered something deep inside of me.

I am seriously pissed off and I want to behave like a child and have a tantrum.

Such Glee

2010-04-20T08:23:00.000+01:00

I miss singing so much. It has always provided an outlet for me that I can’t seem to find anywhere else but at the moment I can’t return to my singing group while Matt is there.

However …… a new Glee-style show choir has started near where I work that operates on a drop-in basis.

I went last night. We sang “Someone To Love”. We did all the parts, everyone was having a ball, I sang at the top of my voice and I have to say, we made a great sound!

Today, I am beyond happy !!

That Long Hot Summer

2010-04-13T18:54:00.001+01:00

My lovely blogger friend, Ian published a post a while back that reminded me of the long, hot summer I had between leaving high school and starting university.

Just two days after I finished school I took a selection of clothes round to my friend's house for her to borrow on her family trip to Austrialia. She lived on the same road as Mr Delaney. I said goodbye and left her at exactly the same moment that my gorgeous economics teacher was leaving his house. He greeted me very warmly and asked what I was off to do. When I said nothing he asked me if I wanted to go to the pub with him. Of course I said yes! And that was the start of a relationship that lasted the whole of that summer.

Of course, as my teacher (I was 18, he was 28) he probably should have steered clear. But technically, I was no longer his student. We both knew it was something to keep quiet though. He never asked me to but I instinctively knew it was likely to cause trouble and so it was my big secret!

But it wasn't as seedy as maybe it sounds. He was such lovely company and I think he saw me as his very own "Pygmalion" project. He took me to art galleries and exhibitions and the theatre and he even introduced me to opera. We did "La Traviata" long before it was a famous scene in "Pretty Woman". And we went for long romantic walks and picnics. He was a great cook and he made me some fantastic meals on the nights I stayed over. He also introduced me to fantastic sex and taught me just how to make a man happy…. and said that I was a very good student !! Sometimes we just spent days in bed.

I loved the time I spent with him but he was clever enough to make me look forward to university and all the opportunities I would have there to continue to broaden my mind. So, when it was time for him to go back to school I was ready to say goodbye without any tears or angst (well, not much!)

I never saw him again. I heard a few years later that he had been out with my friend's sister for a short time, so he clearly had a thing for young girls but then, a few years after that, I heard he had married one of the games teachers at the school. I was totally shocked because she didn't seem to be his type at all. She was from New Zealand, was at least the same age as him (if not older), had a crazy, mad perm and looked and sounded like a man! The last I heard, about five or six years ago was that he'd had a heart attack and a friend told me that she saw him in town once, looking very old. He can only be in his fifties so that didn't sound good.

I wonder if he ever thinks of me. I'd like to see him again - just to say thank you. He was gorgeous and made a woman of me and gave my confidence a huge boost.

Whatever anyone else may think, I really do treasure those memories.

One Hundred Today !!

2010-04-04T14:15:00.001+01:00

So, I was all fired up to write the follow-up to my last post, when I noticed that this entry is my 100th! ONE HUNDREDTH !! I have written a hundred posts. I mean I know that’s not such a big deal, given that I started the blog back in 2008 but still….a hundred !!

That’s a hundred little peeks into my sad old life! But actually, writing those one hundred entries has made me not so sad….. I think! It has certainly helped me along a path of discovery.

So I think I’m going to pat myself on the back! It’s not something I do often but I will today. It’s Easter after all. I shall sit back this afternoon munching chocolate and smiling at how very clever I am !!!

I’ll go back to the “woe is me” writing, next time ……. !!

Back To School

2010-04-01T21:17:00.002+01:00

Both my children are busy revising for their exams. My daughter has her A-levels this year and my son takes his GCSEs. I feel sorry for them as their Easter hols won’t be much fun with the amount of work they have to do.

It has made me think back to my school days. I studied English, French and Economics for my A-levels and the only reason I took Economics was because it was taught by Mr Delaney!

He was also one of the games teachers and was often wandering around in his shorts. And he had a little dark-green MG sports car. He was so good-looking - all the girls thought so. He was a dark-haired version of David Soul in his “Starsky and Hutch” days. When I was in the fifth form, he winked at me once as I was heading back to the girls’ changing rooms after PE and I thought I was going to stop breathing !! (In those days nobody of the opposite sex noticed me, unless it was to take the piss out of the train-track brace on my teeth and my lank, slightly greasy hair!) But because he bothered to wink, and because he was so gorgeous, I decided to take Economics!

It was when I entered the Sixth Form that I think I started to become more aware of myself. I went through a bit of a dramatic change. The brace came off to reveal gorgeous, straight white teeth and suddenly it was easy to smile, which I did readily. I had a soft perm (come on it was the eighties - we all had one, even the boys!) and so that limp hair was suddenly voluminous with no hint of grease. Eyeliner and lipstick became my best friends and with no school uniform to hold me back, I used “Dallas” (the soap, remember?) as my fashion inspiration, particularly Ms Victoria Principal who played Pam. My legs had suddenly lengthened and the puppy fat on my thighs and hips had fallen away and so I was either in skin tight trousers and heels (which helped me to walk with a bit of a sway) or dresses with tight belts and huge shoulder pads. Come on, I looked fabulous !

I became aware of male attention for the first time in my life and finally got myself a proper boyfriend. He was one of the best looking guys in the school so I was seriously impressed with myself. I made him wait but at seventeen, I finally had sex. Probably the last girl in the school to get round to it but at last I was a proper “woman”. Thing is, I didn’t like it that much. Well what was to like? It was usually hurried and a bit fumbly and just not particularly pleasant. He certainly didn’t take me to the heights that Bobby clearly took Pam to (in “Dallas”, remember??)

I gave it just over a year but then I decided that I really needed to concentrate on my A-levels and stopped running every time he called and so, he dumped me!! It was OK. I was stressed with all the revision and my mum going on at me all the time, I didn’t need bad sex as well - though obviously at the time I didn’t know it was bad sex.

Looking back, it was probably for the best that the sex was dull. It meant that I concentrated on my revision without any desperate longing for what had been and it also meant that there was oh, so much better to come !

What Ewan Did

2010-03-25T22:01:00.006Z

So, here goes.

We had been married for about five or six years. Everything seemed to be going OK. I was still caught up in the novelty of motherhood and loved lavishing all my care and attention on to both of my children as they became little people in their own right with their own likes and dislikes.

Meanwhile, Ewan had started staying back later and later at the office and when he came back would he would hit the drink. The only time he seemed really relaxed was at the weekend when he would devote all his time and attention to the children.

I thought he was having an affair. I chose to let him get on with it rather than confront him. Our sex life was practically non-existent as I was constantly tired from juggling the demands of full-time work and motherhood. I knew if I made a scene, he would throw that in my face. He was behaving more and more like a guilty man though, unable to look me in the face or have a proper conversation with me as if he was scared he would give something away.

And then one day, on a whim, I wanted to know how much we had left to pay on our mortgage but I couldn't find the file in the usual place. When Ewan got home I asked him where it was and he lost his temper with me - something he has only done a handful of times through our marriage and this was probably one of the first occasions. He shouted that he was under a lot of stress at work and he didn't need me asking ridiculous questions as soon as he set foot through the door. He really went into one and I was quite scared so I just left it.

About a week later, I was getting ready to go away to Florida for work when the doorbell rang. Ewan had just popped out to get the newspaper and so I opened it to two men. They asked for Ewan and when I said he was out they introduced themselves and said they were enforcement officers and had come to take away the car as discussed with my husband. I couldn't believe what I was hearing and as I tried to argue with them, Ewan turned up and visibly turned green. He told me to go inside and I watched from the window as he spoke to them. And then they took his car away. Just like that.

By the time he came in I was in a bit of state, screaming to find out what was going on and he said very calmly that we were in trouble and that he needed to talk to me. It was completely the wrong time as the car had come to take me to the airport and I had to leave although I was terrified about what I was going to hear.

I don't know how I got through check-in but once I was in the departure lounge I called him and over the next half hour I heard how he had got involved with a private business deal that had gone wrong and resulted in the loss of a lot of money. It might just have been OK but then he was suddenly made redundant and he couldn't bring himself to tell me. He had been going out every day looking for work and though he had got some bits and pieces, it was never enough to meet all our outgoings. He then dropped the bombshell that we were six months in arrears with the mortgage and that there was a court hearing in a couple of weeks to start repossession proceedings. I sat there in that airport unable to comprehend what I was hearing. Hundreds of people were rushing by me and yet I felt so alone.

I spent the next few days in the States in a complete trance. I don't remember anything about it.

When I got back, I took charge, to his relief but I didn't really know what I was doing. He was feeling better because he had finally got it off his chest but I was sinking fast and yet trying to hold it together. I tried calling the bank but they wouldn't talk to me now that the hearing was in place.

Walking into the County Court that day was one of the worst moments of my life. I couldn't believe I was there. I had never imagined something like this could happen to me. I went in expecting the worst. I had visions that we would be thrown out onto the streets with nowhere to go.

As it happened, it was very civilised. The man that was there to represent the bank came to talk to us before our hearing and I told him that I had come to this late because my husband had been going through depression and hadn't been able to tell me what was happening but that now I knew, we were working together and I wanted to do anything to make it right. He said he wasn't there as an enemy and wanted to help. When we went in before the judge, he said that he had spoken to me and was confident that an agreement could be reached. So the judge suspended the repossession order on condition that we paid the arrears. He was so kind to us. I would never have imagined that they could both be so understanding.

It was a difficult few months then as we had to go cap in hand to anyone that needed money from us, to ask for help with payment plans etc. We took a loan to clear the arrears as I couldn't bear to have that sword hanging over us but in retrospect it was a foolish thing to do as we rushed into it and got a bad deal and we'll be paying it off for what seems like forever and I dread the time when interest rates will inevitably rise again.

It's taken a long time to get to a position where I feel anything like in control of our finances but I can't see a time when we won't be in debt. I now insist on knowing everything about our money and what he is spending etc even though he fully learned his lesson and would never do that again ...but I can't take the risk. I'm sure he feels demeaned by having to answer to me. Money is the thing we argue about more than anything.

I never told anyone, not even my parents. They may well have been able to help us out a bit but I couldn't bear for my mother to know what a failure I had been. Because that is how I felt ....feel...even though it was his mistake.

The first person I ever told was the therapist when it all came pouring out at that very first session. He said that what Ewan did was huge and that I have every right to be angry and distrustful all these years later but I'm not sure I agree. I feel responsible. What sort of wife was I that he felt he couldn't tell me what was going on?

I made a decision to be more supportive, to make him feel "safe". After all, problems do not go away - they must be worked through or else they remain a barrier to growth. And we did work through the crisis, but then we fell into a rut and now I feel as if he has almost forgotten what he did to me when he pulled that rug of security so suddenly from under my feet.

I think maybe I am resentful that having made his mistake, I have had to make sure I take on the strain of all things financial and that in turn, he feels resentful because I'm still doing that all these years later, when we are sort of back on track.

Maybe that is why I behave so badly. THREE affairs ??

All I know is, I will never forget that day the bailiffs came and how I felt when I first heard what deep shit we were in. It still makes me cry now....and then run to check the bank statements.

That's it. That's all it was. Not such a big deal when there are women being beaten by their men, or betrayed, or forced to live in real poverty. I need to get over it and stop feeling so sorry for myself.

Trouble is, it's easier said than done.

Who Am I ?

2010-03-17T09:43:00.002Z

The therapist wasn't fed up with me. He was amused that I thought he would be. He said that we would always take things at my pace but he was impressed that I had taken time out to try and think things through.

I told him about this blog. He said it was a good thing if I felt it was helping. I told him that I hadn't been able to write about what Ewan did and he said that was interesting. He asked if I thought that was part of my need for others to like me which meant I controlled what they know about me. That has made me think a lot.

Everyone has an opinion on who they are. Some think very highly of themselves and believe they are never in the wrong. Some have very low self-esteem, sometimes so bad that they can’t allow themselves to be loved as they don’t think they are worthy.

Do we really know who we are? My family, these people I live in this house with, know me best. They see the good and bad. The tantrums and the laughter.

But in terms of my friends, there is not one who knows it all. Not one who even comes close to knowing who I really am. They will only ever know what I want them to know.

And that constantly surprises me as I have friends who tell me every last detail of their life, who allow me in to see the good and the bad and who find it very therapeutic to do so. I can’t imagine that I would ever feel better by giving someone power and letting them know things about me that are not right, not good, not part of the perfect life that I pretend I have.

But also, because I have become someone who is known for being a good listener, I've noticed that on the occasions that I do tell people what's bothering me, they lose interest. I guess it’s because they see me as such an upbeat person and hearing me moaning on brings them down and they don’t want that from me.

I have come to the conclusion recently that as a result I am pretty much living a lie, or at best, just living life on the surface, and I am afraid to look within to see who I really am.

With the therapist’s help though I am confident I will eventually be able to do that and thus stop behaving badly, but it has taken me this long to understand that I really can offload on him without fear.

The trouble is that I present an image of myself to the world which I have allowed myself to believe so when something doesn't match, like this "thing" with Ewan, it confuses and upsets me. The therapist says it is probably one of the root causes as to why I feel so out of control at the moment, even though it happened such a long time ago. He suggested that I make a real effort to try and blog about it. It is not as if I haven’t tried to do that before but I have decided that now is definitely the time.

So, that will be my next post. It could take some but I refuse to write about anything else until I have got this out.

Apologies in advance…..it may be some time before you hear from me again !!

Mr Right ??

2010-03-11T06:56:00.003Z

I have been trying to formulate what I want to say to the therapist later today.

I know he wants me to recognise that my marriage to Ewan is flawed. He thinks I should seriously consider our relationship and I can see why he thinks that. I can’t believe how hard that has been to do though. If I acknowledge my marriage is a failure then what am I left with? And besides, I don’t think it is a failure. I think there have been problems. I think I may be the problem. I think he has made mistakes that have affected me deeply but I still don’t want the marriage to end.

So. Does that mean I didn't find Mr Right?

After Lee (the big love of my life), I didn’t believe Mr Right existed. I wasn’t interested in falling in love again but I did want a partner to share my life with.

I was attracted to Ewan’s kind face and his personality but more to the fact that he seemed clearly smitten with me and wanted to marry me and he had everything I knew a good husband should have.

It didn’t matter that “something” wasn’t there. I liked him and he wasn’t Lee and he couldn’t break my heart and that was all that mattered. I knew by then that happy ever after doesn’t exist. Being satisfied and not unhappy was the best you could hope for.

Friendship, shared ideas and being able to laugh with each other was more important than that heady, slightly out of control feeling of being IN love as that doesn’t last forever anyway and then you’re left with resentment and the bitterness of broken, unrealised dreams. Better to do without it in the first place if you are going to commit to a lifelong relationship. Anyway, he loved me so it wasn’t as if it was absent from the partnership and in turn I treated him with great respect and tried to always make him feel special.

By marrying someone everyone approved of I felt like I was a good, dutiful daughter with the added bonus of having found a partner I actually liked while I was still relatively young. This was no act of desperation but an acceptance that it was probably the best offer I was likely to get. I had a big, expensive, lavish wedding that made my dad proud and my mum cry. Since then, it has been a conventional marriage.

He may not have been Mr Perfect but he has never been Mr Wrong.

We may not talk as much as we used to but at least our silences are companionable, not sullen. We may not share as many jokes as before but I still get a thrill of pleasure when he laughs at one of my anecdotes and I love that funny look on his face when I giggle at something he says. We may not entertain as much as we used to but when we do we’re still as good as we always were and the fact that friends are still with us late into the night means they enjoy our company and like being with us.

He has given me two beautiful children who I adore. My son is so like him and such a decent young man that it is no wonder all the girls love him. And my daughter has his gentleness which takes the sharp edges off her similarity to me.

The bottom line is, I was lucky to find someone who asked and maybe that’s why I said yes. He may not love me like he used to and maybe when he talks to me my thoughts and attention are sometimes elsewhere but whatever might be missing, I want to grow old with him. I don’t like the thought of being without him. And I think he feels the same.

He’s as right for me as I could ever be lucky enough to find. If I hadn’t said yes to him, I probably would be like many of my friends now - single, in their forties and desperate for a husband and family. I would have lurched from one disastrous relationship to another.

So I settled. But I think I settled well. I don’t think I could have found anyone better suited to me, someone who would put up with me the way he does.

Whatever it is that is making me so fundamentally unhappy, I don’t think it’s my marriage.
Or is it?? Oh! I’m not capable of thinking straight. The therapist will be fed up with me - I don’t know the answer.

This is so hard !

Almost....But I Think The Moment Has Gone

2010-03-08T08:54:00.004Z

I’ve decided I quite like my therapist!

He’s very good. I wanted to not like him, to be irritated by him, to be superior to him and second guess him all the time. I don’t know why. It’s about control I suppose. If I give in to him, I make myself vulnerable, I concede power, I allow him the weapons to wreak possible havoc in my life.

I’ve treated this whole thing as a bit of a game. Go ahead if you think you can get in, if you think you can get me to offload, if you think you can spot a chink in the armour. I don’t think so.

Thing is, he’s known that all along. He gets me. He has been very patient with me. He knows that I’m very nervous of what might be uncovered. He has let me go along at my own pace.He has told me a few times that he is happy to see me for as long it takes but that I needed to realise that could be years, as long as I insist on keeping up my guard.

I was hoping therapy could be me just talking and talking and telling him all sorts of things from my childhood onwards in a bid to just get everything out and then maybe, maybe once it was all laid out, I could start putting bits together.

In my last session though, while I was in the middle of talking about some nonsense, I suddenly realised doing it this way is not going to work. I stopped talking and he let me sit quietly for a bit and then asked if I was OK. I told him that I liked him, that I appreciated how he had let me be these last few months. He asked me quietly what it was I wanted and I told him that I just wanted to be able to sort everything out but that I was frightened of facing myself. He asked me if I knew exactly what it was that I was afraid of and I told him honestly that I didn’t but that I suspected it would be that I despise myself and given that I have built a lifetime out of being a great gal, loved by everyone and full of fun, that would be hard.

He said he could help me if I was willing to think about things differently. Again he went back to his pet subject, Ewan, and asked me why I was so keen to protect him. I started crying. It’s been a while since I’ve done that with him.

In our very first session, I told him something that Ewan had done quite early on in our marriage, something I haven’t been able to bring myself to blog about, yet. Nothing too terrible in the scheme of things, I suppose, but something that affected me. Thinking about it now, I’m surprised I came straight out with it and told him. No one else knows. That was actually the most productive session to date as I felt so desperate that I was willing to talk about everything. Every week since then I have maintained “control”.

The therapist has often asked if I want to address that issue and I have always skirted round it. This last time, he told me that the thing with Ewan was the “elephant in the room”. He could see it and didn’t understand why I was refusing to acknowledge it. He said that I should stop hiding it away and pretending that it never happened. (I’m making it sound very dramatic – it will be a real letdown when I finally blog about it, after such a big build-up!!) He says if we can talk it through, we can make some real progress.

We couldn’t take it any further then because we were at the end of our time which is a shame because for the first time, I felt like I was on the edge of something. I’m worried we’ll have lost our place by the next session. I spent the weekend thinking that if I could blog about it all, I might make that discovery before going back to the therapist. But I sat down to write and I find I can’t. All I have been able to manage is this nonsensical ramble.

In a bid to get back to the same place, the therapist has asked me to be ready to talk about whether or not I married Mr Right. I should have written about that today.

That’s what I’ll do next time.

The Elephant

2010-03-03T08:58:00.002Z

The lovely Maternal Tales has posted an amazing video showing an elephant giving birth and the dramatic moments that follow.

It reminded me that I have an affinity with elephants. I love them for their huge, quiet, majesty and the way they communicate with each other and travel together in extended matriarchal families. I rode on an elephant in Goa, back when I was a student and I have photos of that fabulous experience to keep the memory alive. But the most precious incident was over seventeen years ago and one I’ll never forget.

Soon after Sasha was born, Ewan was asked by his best friend Tom, to be best man at his wedding……..in Indonesia !!! We all went even though our baby was only four months old.

To be honest, it was a stressful trip for me. I don’t remember much about it except that I was anxious about everything. Sasha clearly loved it and didn’t seem at all affected by the heat and the attention and she wasn’t ill once, even though I seemed to be in the constant grip of sickness or diarrhoea, or both. The wedding took place over three days and was an amazing experience but it was difficult for me to appreciate it all. I should have relaxed more but I was an anxious young mother back then.

The day after the final wedding celebrations, the bride’s family arranged for the British visitors to go to a wildlife park. It was a great day. I was finally feeling well and was much more calm in the knowledge that we were going back home in a day or so and I had got to know everyone and was feeling happy in their company. We travelled to the park in a fleet of open 4x4s and Sasha spent the journey giggling away at the bumpy road and the breeze on her face. I knew we were going to see elephants at the park and I was most content.

When we got there we wandered around this most beautiful of places. The family had hired a couple of guides and we spent a few hours walking and driving through the stunning park, watching various animals roaming free and looking at the fabulous plants and trees. At one stage we went into a wooded area for a walk and I was truly at the happiest I had been through the whole trip as I carried my gorgeous baby through this breathtaking forest. Suddenly we could hear horns and drums in the distance and our guides started to get agitated and there was much nervous chatter on walkie-talkies and eventually we found out that one of the elephants had lost her calf and was on the rampage. They said we needed to go back until they were both found as the mother could now be a real danger. I didn’t really comprehend what was going on but just followed the group in a bit of a daze as we were ushered in panic back out of the woods.

We were in a small clearing when suddenly there was a rustle in the bushes and out ran the baby elephant into our group. The guides went a little crazy then, jumping around all over the place and shouting into their radios and I could see this poor little creature was frightened by all the hullabaloo and so I held out my hand to him and he came over to me. The guides were shouting “no, no madam! Please leave him!” But I was completely enchanted. He was only waist height and he pushed against my legs and unfurled his trunk to reach out to Sasha who was in my arms and squealing with delight. I was kind of aware of the panic around us but I was lost in a world of wonder with this oh so sweet baby elephant who I couldn’t stop patting even though the guides were practically apoplectic by now.

And then, without warning this huge elephant just appeared through the trees and was suddenly among us, looking at each of us and then resting her stare on me …..with my hand on her precious baby. Everyone was quiet and still then – in fact, the guards were slowly moving back and trying to get the others to follow them. But it was if, just for a moment everything was frozen. I wasn’t at all scared although I found out later that everyone else was terrified.

But there was no need. The baby elephant ran to his mother who gathered him to her using her trunk to check him over with such tenderness that I wanted to cry. And then, in the most magic moment that I’ll never, ever forget, she looked right at me holding Sasha and then turned her baby around with her trunk and pushed him back to me as if to say “it’s all right son, she’s a mother too – she won’t do you any harm”. And in that moment, I smiled at her and I’m sure her eyes were smiling too. I’m welling up now just thinking about it. It was all over far too quickly as the guides shooed us away but she stood there with her baby and watched us as we were led off. I kept looking back and she kept watching until we were out of sight.

It’s something I’ll never forget and I’ll often ask Ewan if it was as I remember and he assures me that it was.

Gosh, I have shivers down my spine just remembering that – it was truly magical.

Keeping Busy

2010-02-26T09:52:00.003Z

The therapist was visibly pleased when I told him what happened with Matt. He said I had shown strength of character by making it clear to him what I wanted face to face and he asked if I was proud of myself. I thought it was a strange question. What’s to be proud of? I ended something I should never have allowed to start in the first place.

I actually feel a bit low, and not because I miss him or anything like that, but the therapist says that’s to be expected and that I mustn’t let that develop or take hold and that I should “keep busy”. He told me to do anything that keeps my mind from dwelling on Matt or anything about him. He says regular thoughts can create hard-wired mental habits that your mind keeps going back to which can then be hard to break. So to avoid that I have to work hard at filling my mind with other things. He said I should avoid being alone but when I am, to read, watch telly/films, listen to music, do puzzles (!) – anything to keep Matt out of my head.

I thought that would be easy as I could just blog but I’m sitting here and I suddenly feel all shy and don’t know what to write !! So, forgive me, I’m being lazy and have decided to do this meme which I was tagged to do ages ago and didn’t get round to it. Apologies to whoever it was but you need to know that you have provided me with a life-saving exercise - thank you.

I’m not tagging anyone but feel free to pick it up and run with it if you fancy it. Here goes:

Where is your cell phone? In the bottom of my bag where I prefer it to be when I’m not at work
Your hair? I have just had it cut actually. It was very long and it’s now shoulder length but I think I like it
Your dream last night? That I was on holiday and it was the last day and we had to go so we wouldn’t miss the plane but I had loads of packing still to do….
Your favorite drink? White grape and peach is rather nice
What room are you in? Bedroom - sitting up in bed all cosy under the duvet with the laptop
Where were you last night? In this same bed. In fact I’ve been here now for twelve full hours – pure luxury
Your hobby? Singing – I need to find a way of taking it up again
Something that you aren't? Young !!
Where did you grow up? London - born and bred
Last thing you did? Woke up and reached out for laptop
What are you wearing? Have just pulled on Ewan’s t-shirt
Your TV? We have one in the bedroom and I’m watching the Wright Stuff because one of my friends is on it today
Pets? Nope
Friends? Lots and I adore them and some are really special…but I can never let any one of them get too close. One for the therapist I think
Your mood? OK this morning but I don’t have any energy to get out of bed which I recognise is not good
Missing someone? Absolutely not !!
Your favorite color? Blue
One place that I go to over and over? The office
One person who emails me regularly? My boss – three times already this morning!!
Favorite place to eat? My kitchen when my lovely family are together and I’m in the middle of them all !

Over And Out

2010-02-22T19:25:00.002Z

It’s been a week of ups and downs.

The messages from Matt continued and I didn’t acknowledge any of them until Wednesday evening when he sent a text saying “I need to talk this out with you and if you refuse to call me then I will have to come over to your house to have this conversation ”.

Of course, that completely freaked me out and I hardly slept that night. The next morning I rang him and he immediately apologised for sending that text. He said he regretted it the moment he had pressed SEND. I didn’t engage but just arranged to meet him Friday lunchtime.

We met at a bar not far from where I work and headed straight to the back so that we could talk without being seen or interrupted. He started as if there was nothing wrong, asking me how I was and telling me some incident that happened to him on the way to meet me. Then he got in with how glad he was that I had agreed to see him and that he had so much to tell me but that most of all he needed me to know that he couldn’t function without me and after what happened on that Friday he realised how much he needed me in his life and that he would do anything to make that happen and did I want him to dump Kelly because he would if that meant we could be together again.

I was stunned. It took me a while to take in what he was saying but I didn’t let it put me off what I had to say. I told him to listen to me carefully, that the reason I had agreed to meet was to tell him that we were well and truly over and that I had wanted to do it face to face because doing it by email and text clearly hadn’t worked. I wanted proper closure with no misunderstandings. And I wanted to make it clear that from this point on I would not answer any texts, emails or calls. And that if I saw him again I would avoid him.

He didn’t seem to hear what I was saying though and even had a half-smile on his face. And then he leant forward and said “I know you think that’s the right thing to do and maybe it is but I know that deep down you don’t mean it. Perhaps it would make a difference if I told you .... I love you. I have never said that to anyone before in my life but I’m telling you because it’s the truth. I love you so much that it hurts and that is probably why I have been acting like a crazy man since we first got together.”

A good few minutes must have gone by then as I literally didn’t know what to do. At some level I was touched by what he said and almost ready to believe it and I was almost tempted to throw caution to the wind and take his face in my hands and kiss him. But he looked so sure of himself, so sure that he had scored a winner that I couldn’t let myself be played.

“You don’t love me” I said. “You’re in love with the idea of winning me back, of having power over a woman who is married with kids and who has a great life but still comes running to you because you have something she thinks she needs.” I ranted on a bit more but can’t really remember what I said or even if it made any sense. I just ended by repeating that I wanted this to end.

This time, he didn’t look so smug. In fact he looked really pissed off. He banged his drink on the table and his voice sounded full of anger “Fine. I hear every word you say” . And then he got up and leant down to whisper, or rather spit in my ear “but don’t you ever, EVER, presume to tell me what I feel.”

And with that he turned on his heel and stalked out, without even a goodbye or a look back. I was stuck there then because I couldn’t physically move. I was in some sort of shock I think - completely numb. I must have stayed in that seat for about half an hour before I was finally able to get up and get out. I went back to the office but to be honest I did nothing and was just pretending to work. I think it was the anger, hatred even, in his voice as he delivered that last line that stung me.

But by the time I went home I did feel lighter and over the weekend with my lovely family, the realisation has dawned on me that it is now over. I don’t have to think about it anymore. I’m sure I will, but I feel that I can at least move forward now.

It is all done.

Guilt

2010-02-15T18:13:00.002Z

It's been a rough few days.

In all the time I was seeing Matt, I never felt guilt. Worried maybe. Anxious that I may get found out but never guilty. Never guilty about how I was betraying the family – it was easier not to think about that. But since last Monday and that episode in Matt’s flat, I have been feeling terrible.

I know nothing happened and I got myself out of there before anything could but I was stupid enough to find myself in that position in the first place. I have been such a fool and I don’t know how I ever let myself get into this situation. What was I thinking of playing around with a bloke ten years younger than me? Allowing myself to be flattered by his practised lines?

Things aren’t helped by the constant messages I have been getting since then. Each one more desperate than the last. “We need to talk” ... “Where are you” ... “Don’t hide away from me” .... “You know you want this as much as me” .... “Don’t fight something we both need” .... “Please let me prove how important you are to me” etc etc. Needless to say I haven’t responded to any of them but I want them to stop.

And then there’s Ewan. I feel very warm towards him at the moment and things are good between us. Not that they are ever bad but sometimes we don’t do more than function along together. This time of the year though is always a bit special. I’ve noticed that he’s always extra attentive in this period between my birthday and Valentine’s Day. It’s as if he wants to prove to me that I am someone special in his life – not just the woman he shares his day to day living with. And I cherish that so much. It kind of charges up my batteries for when things become a bit routine again.

At the weekend, as he went by me in the kitchen, he kissed me and told me I was beautiful. Just like that. No reason, no explanation, no look back - just a passing remark and he has no idea how affected I am by things like that. How it makes me just smile and feel young again.

Yesterday evening, after a lovely Valentine's Day, I was lying on the sofa, listening to my daughter on the piano as she worked on her music compositions, which are amazing, and then as I drifted in and out of sleep I was aware of her singing and playing her favourite songs and I started to feel a bit emotional at how talented she was and how blessed I am to have such a lovely family and how I mustn’t ruin it and then suddenly she was playing Rihanna’s “Unfaithful” and it sounded as if she was singing it from so deep within her that for a minute I wondered if she knew something. I knew she didn’t but it moved me to tears as I listened to the words:

.......Because I'm gone again
And to him I just can't be true
And I know that he knows I'm unfaithful
And it kills him inside
To know that I am happy with some other guy
I can see him dying

I don't wanna do this anymore
I don't wanna be the reason why
Everytime I walk out the door
I see him die a little more inside
I don't wanna hurt him anymore
I don't wanna take away his life
I don't wanna be...A murderer

I feel it in the air
As I'm doing my hair
Preparing for another date
A kiss upon my cheek
As he reluctantly
Asks if I'm gonna be out late
I say I won't be long
Just hanging with the girls
A lie I didn't have to tell
Because we both know
Where I'm about to go
And we know it very well .......

I know Ewan doesn't suspect anything but I also know now that nothing more will happen with Matt. Ever.

I don't wanna do this anymore

Sadness And Stupidity

2010-02-09T08:57:00.002Z

I went to a funeral yesterday.

Anna joined the singing group a year or so ago. She had decided to join us because she wanted to break away from her old group as her ex-husband was still there and she was finding it difficult.

She was great! Lots of fun and she fitted in straight away. She came to our social events too and I got on with her really well and we had a laugh.

She was in the Christmas cabaret in December and as ever she was brilliant and looked very sassy in a shimmering silver gown.

About a week after that, I thought a night out was in order and got a few of the girls from the group together. When I rang her though, she told me she wasn't up to it as she had severe "gut-rot" which was getting on her nerves but she put it down to too much partying.

Then a few weeks later, at the group's New Year drinks, I asked where she was and heard she was quite ill with a stomach ulcer which had been playing her up for a while.

I called her the next day and she sounded really fed up. She said she was in a lot of pain and that the medicine wasn't helping and that even though she was hardly eating and being sick, her stomach was so bloated that she looked six months pregnant.

A few days later, I got a call saying she had been rushed into hospital as her doctor had got it wrong and that actually she didn't have an ulcer but in fact, had three tumours in her stomach. Three. How does that happen? How can you have three tumours without the doctor realising?

She had surgery where they found they were all malignant and she went into intensive care. We were waiting to hear when she was well enough for visitors.

On Friday morning, an email popped up from her ex-husband. It was entitled Anna - Funeral Details. I couldn't believe it. I felt completely winded, as if someone had punched me.

The funeral was yesterday and the church was packed. Most of the singing group was there, including Matt but not Kelly.

It was a very moving service, made more so because we heard that just before she died, she re-married her ex-husband in her hospital bed. Of course, that set me off.

When he stood up to talk, he could hardly get through it as he was so choked. And then he introduced some old home movies and there was one clip of the whole family together with both sets of parents, her brother, and her children (when they were little) having a karaoke evening, and the clip showed Anna singing "Over The Rainbow" quite beautifully and at the end, as all her family were clapping, you could hear her little girl say: "I love it when you sing Mummy - it makes me go all squidgy inside" and then Anna picked her up and hugged her tight and I was in absolute floods of tears.

I couldn't stop then as I kept thinking that just a few short weeks ago she had been singing on stage at the cabaret and that now she was gone. I just can't get my head round it.

And as I was sobbing away, I felt a hand on my shoulder and I looked behind and it was Matt. And after the service, when the family went to the cemetery for a private burial, he asked me if I wanted a lift home and I stupidly said yes, and of course, we ended up at his flat.

He poured me a glass of wine and we sat in his sitting room and we talked about Anna and then he told me how much he was missing me and he stroked my hair and then touched my face and almost without me realising it we were kissing. And then, it became more urgent and suddenly, he had pushed me back on the sofa and he was on top of me and his hands were all over me and he said "god, you feel so good. I have missed this so much. I haven't been able to get this out my head. You are like a drug to me and I'm completely addicted". And as he was speaking he moved a cushion out of the way and I noticed it was pink and fluffy. And then as I looked around, while he was kissing me, I saw that that actually there was a lot of pink in his room and then of course it hit me that is because Kelly lives there now and suddenly, I needed to get out.

He said he was sorry I was freaked out and that he understood and that he that he would arrange for us to meet somewhere else in future but please, please not to shut him out of my life again.

I couldn't get out of there fast enough. This wasn't meant to happen. All I wanted to do was pay my last respects to Anna - I feel I have betrayed her in some way by allowing this to happen.

Boobies

2010-02-04T10:07:00.002Z

I have been pondering the subject of bosoms a lot recently!

I think it started a few days ago when I passed a very well-dressed businessman on the stairs of the building where I work, who looked as if he should have been the perfect gentlemen. As he went by though, he coughed and I'm certain I heard him say "great breasts" !!! I chose not to react or say anything to him but I did think it was rather cheeky …..and brazen!

I do have rather good boobs!! Good in the sense that they are appreciated by the opposite sex (even my gay friends) and actually by some of my own fair sex who think I “wear them well” !! Considering my age, they are not bad although bigger than I would like which causes me backache at times. In fact, if I’m honest, I think they are freakishly big. As a friend once said, they are “Sunday Sport big”, which is probably fairly accurate.

Why do men like them big? What is it about them? Ewan is still very appreciative of them, even after all these years. They are bigger now than when we first got together probably because I had our second child so soon after the first. I was still breast-feeding when I got pregnant again so they never had a chance to go down. They have got bigger whenever I have put on weight but refused to go down when I’ve gone on a diet. In this last round of Matt-induced weight loss, I only went down half a cup size !

When I was at school, I had nothing. Zilch. Flat as a pancake. In the sixth form I was actually known as “Flatty” which distressed me no end. They finally arrived while I was at university and I think I had the perfect figure then for a while.

When Kyle was about two, I decided I really ought to get properly fitted for a bra and I found out that instead of being a 36C, I was in fact a 34E. E !!! So I bought a few bras and when I got them home, baby Kyle pulled one out of the bag and placed it on his head…and it fitted, like a little lace hat! Each of my boobs were/are the size of a baby’s head! How horrific a thought is that!!

I’m a DD now and although my bosoms look OK in my specially fitted, almost armoured bras, they are not so great hanging loose. As Lynn said in “Desperate Housewives” a few weeks ago, once you’ve had kids, they look more like a couple of balloons that you find behind the sofa a few days after the party!!!

Nevertheless, all I know is that there are very few men who can keep their eyes from straying downwards during a whole conversation - they don’t even seem to know they are doing it! I’m used to it and don’t mind. If I’m honest I’m quite amused, probably even flattered, by it. But what I really don’t like is the physical appreciation.

Let’s face it - no man brushes past a woman with big boobs, by accident !!

The Odd Couple

2010-01-29T08:48:00.002Z

I have written about Tamsin and Nathan before.

Since that entry, we managed to persuade her to see her doctor and she is now receiving psychiatric help although I have to say that from what she describes, her sessions are very much like mine with the therapist. She just talks to him. There’s no couch, no ink spots, no word recognition ! The difference is of course is that she is on medication too, which I think is really what has been helping. So much so that her marriage is completely different. Once she was calm and back to the old Tamsin again, Nathan seemed to rediscover her and it was all very magical and she was on cloud nine. At Christmas, they renewed their wedding vows and took themselves off for a week without the children for a second honeymoon.

It should have been happy ever after but of course, it’s not. Life rarely is.

Last week, Nathan called me at work to say that almost overnight Tamsin seems to have gone back to how she was – moody, uncommunicative and full of rage and anger towards him. She says she wants him out of the house as he is responsible for her poor mental health. He insists he has done nothing wrong and can only think that she has stopped taking her tablets. The trouble is he sounded really fed up and said that he feels cheated and that he too wants out. He asked if I would speak to her to find out what’s going on but that actually he has already started looking at flats to rent.

So yesterday, I went round for coffee. She seemed fine. Very calm but very insistent that she doesn’t want to be married to Nathan anymore. She had no reason other than she feels he has held her back. There was nothing I could do but listen.

As I was leaving, I told her how sorry I was because they had looked so happy recently and then suddenly , she was crying hysterically and begging me not to go because she didn’t know how she was going to cope without Nathan and that she knew he’d had enough of her and so she was trying to end things before he did. I told her that was not how he’d felt until she had changed again but she was pulling on my sleeve and pleading with me to make everything OK. To be honest I was a bit frightened. This was such a different woman from the bubbly, bright Tamsin who moved into our street.

Anyway, we talked a bit more and she calmed down and somehow I agreed to act as a mediator between them so they could talk properly. I have done this sort of thing before, years ago, when I took up counselling as part of some youth work I was doing at the time. I was trying to do my bit for the community when I dreamt I could make the world right. It interested me a lot and so I did further courses working with adult issues with a view to maybe leaving PR and talking it up full time but it never happened. PR was too easy for me to abandon.

I never forgot those skills though and I think it’s why so many of my friends find me easy to talk to. It’s also the reason I believe my sessions with my therapist are not particularly productive. I keep thinking I know what he’s doing rather than letting him get on with the job of doing it. I am my own worst enemy.

Back to Tamsin and Nathan though, it’s precisely because of my own therapy that something says I shouldn’t be stepping in for them. I do think they need to talk things through with a third party but I don’t think that should be me. But then maybe I’m being terribly selfish because it was only when I agreed to do it that Tamsin calmed down. Oh! Something tells me I mustn’t do it.

I don’t know what to do for the best.

I Dare You

2010-01-15T08:36:00.003Z

In a bid to get myself more organised, I was clearing out my emails this morning and I found this one that was doing the rounds a couple of years ago. You may have seen this before too but when I read it again today, it rendered me helpless with laughter. I bet you can’t get to the end without laughing.

OFFICE DARES
Here are a list of dares that you are invited to take on at your place of work. The one with the most points wins ……

For one point:
1. Ignore the first five people who say 'good morning' to you.

2. To signal the end of a conversation, clamp your hands over your ears and grimace.

3. Leave your fly open for one hour. If anyone points it out say, "Sorry, I really prefer it this way".

4. Walk sideways to the photocopier.

5. While riding in an elevator, gasp dramatically every time the doors open.

6. When in elevator with one other person, tap them on the shoulder and pretend it wasn't you.

7. Finish all your sentences with "In accordance with the prophecy..."

8. Don't use any punctuation.

9. Interrupt your conversation with someone by giving a huge dejected sigh.

10. Use your highlighter pen on the computer screen.

Three Point Dares
1. Say to your boss, "I like your style", wink, and shoot him with double-barreled fingers.

2. Kneel in front of the water cooler and drink directly from the nozzle.

3. Shout random numbers while someone is counting.

4. Every time you get an email, shout ''email''.

5. Put decaf in the coffee maker for 3 weeks. Once everyone has got over his or her caffeine addictions, switch to espresso.

6. Keep hole punching your finger. Each time you do, shout, "dagnamit, it's happened again!". Then do it again.

7. Introduce yourself to a new colleague as "the office bicycle". Then wink and pout.

8. Call I.T. helpdesk and tell them that you can't seem to access any pornography web sites.

Five Point Dares
1. At the end of a meeting, suggest that, for once, it would be nice to conclude with the singing of the national anthem (extra points if you actually launch into it yourself).

2. Walk into a very busy person's office and while they watch you with growing irritation, turn the light switch on/off 10 times.

3. For an hour, refer to everyone you speak to as "Dave".

4. Announce to everyone in a meeting that you need to go as you "really have to go do a number two".

5. Dry hump the photocopier. When someone spots you, stop and cough embarrassingly, then lean in to the machine and whisper loudly, "I'll see you tonight".

6. After every sentence, say 'Mon' in a really bad Jamaican accent. As in: "The report's on your desk, Mon." Keep this up for one hour.

7. In a meeting or crowded situation, slap your forehead repeatedly and mutter, "Shut up, damn it, all of you just shut up!"

8. At lunchtime, get down on your knees and announce, "As God is my witness, I'll never go hungry again!"

9. Repeat the following conversation 10 times to the same person: "Do you hear that?" "What?" "Never mind, it's gone now."

10. Present meeting attendees with a cup of coffee and biscuit; smash each biscuit with your fist.

11. During the course of a meeting, slowly edge your chair towards the door.

12. As often as possible, skip rather than walk.

13. Ask people what sex they are. Laugh hysterically after they answer.

Go on, it's a Friday - have fun !!

What The Stars Foretell

2010-01-11T18:25:00.001Z

I started this New Year with a cold…..again. I seem to have been ill a lot lately which is most unlike me as I am not normally prone to bad health, which in turn, makes me a very bad patient!
Anyway, even though I'm still sniffing and coughing and sneezing all over the place, I'm back in the swing and ready to write my first blog post of the New Year…..

I met a celebrity astrologer at an event last week. He was a name in the Eighties and seems to be making a bit of a comeback. He was very full of himself but we got on really well and he was very friendly, if slightly barking! I thought he was just being nice because he thought I might be able to help him with his career by introducing him to various television execs etc - not that I know any particularly well apart from on a professional basis. However, later that same evening he texted me to say how lovely it was to meet me and hoped that we could keep in touch, which was quite unexpected but very sweet.

Then this morning, I came into an email from him telling me again how much he hoped we would become friends and, as a little gift, he had prepared my forecast for the coming year! I'm not into astrology at all and never read my stars but I thought it was a lovely gesture. Of course, I'd rather he'd have predicted this week's correct lottery numbers for me but I appreciate that is a tad ungrateful! I have decided to record his predictions here so that I can check at the end of the year to see just how good he is!

He started off by telling me that many Aquarians work in the media and that we all tend to have two sides to our personality. On the one hand shy, withdrawn, passive and sensitive and yet also extremely dynamic, active and extrovert. And in my case, he says I am attractive, magnetic and pleasing to my friends and colleagues even though I can be extremely demanding.
I'm quite intrigued by that as I have always maintained that I developed my outgoing side in order to cover up that shy side of me. Whenever I say that though, people laugh !!

He says that my New Year will start with a big bang, possibly with a pay rise before my birthday in February.
Highly unlikely in the current climate!

He predicts my hard work will bring rich dividends but that I may change jobs and even move home in the search for a better position.
I really can't see that happening given that I've been with the same company for a quarter of a century and have no desire to go anywhere else.

Travelling abroad is a distinct possibility.
But then it is every year, even though it has to be said I didn't get further than Glasgow in 2009!

According to him, my marriage will continue to be problem-free and we will work well as a couple although my desire to relocate may cause some discussion.
I thought his use of the word "continue" was interesting!

Apparently I need to be careful about my health, as I will be prone to a number of common ailments like flu and stomach problems.
Given that I sneezed over him a number of times at that do, it was a pretty safe bet to include that one.

He warned that although I have a good network of friends, I should nurture my friendships more as I could fall out with a few this year, if I am not careful.

He wrote a lot more bumph that I didn't understand about my house being in Uranus or something and Jupiter doing something which means this, that or the other but he ended with an interesting observation that the cluttered thoughts that had been filling my head towards the end of last year are unlikely to go away or become any easier to manage. That I had to handle mental and emotional issues that have been troubling me recently with a lot of care and composure as this transient episode in my life still has a way to go before things will settle enough for me to start unravelling the knots.

That seems a bit deep - I have no cynical, smart-arse comment for that one.

Review Of The Year

2009-12-30T13:11:00.001Z

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

2009-12-22T07:34:00.001Z

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!)

2009-12-11T09:10:00.002Z

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

2009-12-01T07:26:00.002Z

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

2009-11-27T06:54:00.003Z

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

2009-11-20T08:23:00.002Z

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

2009-11-17T20:02:00.002Z

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

2009-11-13T06:56:00.002Z

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

2009-11-10T11:14:00.002Z

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

2009-11-06T18:59:00.003Z

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

2009-10-25T17:32:00.001Z

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

2009-10-20T14:26:00.000+01:00

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

2009-10-14T08:49:00.001+01:00

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

2009-10-13T08:47:00.002+01:00

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

2009-10-01T23:05:00.003+01:00

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

2009-09-28T12:07:00.001+01:00

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

2009-09-24T23:01:00.004+01:00

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 !

2009-09-17T19:06:00.002+01:00

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

2009-09-15T08:52:00.000+01:00

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

2009-09-11T09:03:00.003+01:00

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

2009-09-03T15:59:00.001+01:00

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

2009-08-31T09:49:00.000+01:00

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

2009-08-25T06:49:00.002+01:00

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 !

2009-08-13T10:11:00.002+01:00

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

2009-08-12T08:52:00.001+01:00

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