Tuesday, February 1, 2011
The medicine man
So after offering to volunteer my time at the animal welfare, and sorting out the formalities of meeting everyone I decided to walk back town and to my hotel. I needed to go to the loo and was hoping that I would find a taxi soon although I was enjoying the walk and enjoying the complete peace within my own mind. Something that was not all that familiar to me after the past year.I found a taxi and asked for him to take me to Kutut where I was quite sure I would be able to spend some time with him and gain a greater inner peace – whilst also having him read my palm for me and tell me what my future holds.I arrived at Kutut’s house and walked into the compound and past the numerous tourist busses and saw a massive number of people sitting around, I spoke to an Australian woman who explained that it was about a 4 hour wait for Kutut and that he doesn’t spend much time with each person but that everyone here was waiting and that I would need to figure out who the person was who arrived before me and I would figure out my place in the line of hopefuls.I sat for about 30 minutes. About long enough for my bladder to tell me that 4 hours was simply out of the question. I left and thought it best to come back early and when there was less people to have to wait behind.The following day I was once again, up early, went to yoga and was ready to leave to meet Abut at 11am for my trip to the medicine man. I arrived at the hotel reception and was taken to a small motorbike, Abut started the bike and expected me to get on. This was not something I was happy about but figured that at this point I may as well just suck it up.We travelled for about 30 minutes outside of town and arrived to a compound similar to Kutut’s, but in a different direction. We were told that the medicine man was not in at the moment as he was involved in a ceremony of some significance with the people from his town but that we could return at 11am the next morning. We drove back through the beauty of the mountains and I thought of ways to try to get out of going back the following day. I failed at this and realised that Abut was not going to let me off the hook.The following day started the same. I went to yoga, came back, had a shower, met Abut and we went once again to the compound. There were a few people waiting to see the medicine man and he was dealing with a woman I can only describe as a whinging American who complained of a sore back. He seemed bored, as I was. I was here to have my heart put back together again and couldn’t really understand why she was here when she could get a massage for about $US3 basically anywhere in this place.There were several people before me. I watched in amazement as he seemed to do stuff that seemed to heal them in some way, although often the details were not clear because it was hard to hear or work out what was going on between the medicine man and his patient.Nobody came in after me, so when I was called there were only a couple of onlookers remaining. The medicine man sat there smoking and smiling and asked me what he could do for me. I was quiet and embarrassed and didn’t want others to hear. I asked him if he could read my palm. He laughed and told me that he doesn’t do that sort of thing but he was happy to help in another way, he asked me again what he could do.I sat there and thought that at this point I simply must tell him whats wrong or I will miss my opportunity to see him and perhaps be “fixed” in some way.I put my hand on my head and I said ‘I am not well, I am just sad, all the time I am sad and I can’t change it’. He told me to lie down on his mat and took his small wood stick and poked at the insides of my toes, it didn’t hurt, butch with each poke he checked for a response. Finally he got one. He touched a spot that made me nearly fly off the mat and run back to Australia screaming in pain.He nodded his head and came closer to me and waved his hands above my body and said ‘so much hurt and pain, so much, but I will fix it, I will make it better for you, just trust me’. The encounter was stranger than anything I have ever experienced and anything that I would have previously believed and quite frankly, before this happened to me I would have dismissed it as a complete wank. I didn’t though, it just didn’t feel like I had that option at the time.When the session was finished I wept. I didn’t cry, my eyes were just pouring with tears. It was different to any time I had cried before.I drove back to Ubud with Abut on the back of his motorbike and smiled all the way. I felt like I was smiling from within myself, in a way that I had never or at least for a really long time had smiled. The countryside seemed so much more beautiful that it was on the way there, or on my previous trip. I just couldn’t stop feeling completely and utterly amazingly happy and complete.I decided that taking myself to Bali was the best birthday present I had ever received.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Bali for my Birthday
So given my long history or completly hating my Birthday I decided to take myself to Bali for a couple of weeks to get away from the reality of my life and also the reality of turning another year older. I decided on Bali for 3 reasons:
1) Its cheep
2) I have never been there
3) The woman who wrote 'Eat, Pray, Love' went there and a medicine mad healed her broken heart, so I figured he could also heal mine.
So I headed off to Bali after a couple of big nights drinking with Geraldine and her ever suffering husband Byron, I say eversuffering simply because he has to endure me being there with my emotional "condition" and my tears and my drinking and talking rubbish all the time and he endures it like a champion, as does Geraldine.....so after coming close to missing my flight because of an alcohol enduced coma I boarded my flight and was off.
On landing I wanted to be sick. The heat and humidity hit me and my hangover like a thick fog of reality and suddenly I was in another country. Shit. What the hell was I going to do now was all my mind could process.
I found my driver and headed towards Ubud, where the woman from 'Eat, Pray, Love' had stayed. I had no idea what I was doing in this place. I hadn't worked out what I wanted to do or where I wanted to go, but driving into the place made me feel calm and collected and really quite at peace.
I settled into my hotel and found my way around and before I knew it the place felt like home. I really fell in love with the place and felt that I might never leave, and if I did, I most certainly would come back, many times. It just felt like home.
I started reading the booklist my shrink had given me many months before and started to annalyise my life and the things that had happened in the last year and even in the time before then and started to reconcile things in my mind. Most of all I started to accept a higher power. Not god or anything of a religious nature. Just the power of the universise to deliver things, good, and bad, and for these things not to be a coincidence or 'fate' as I had always explained them as before, but actual happenings for some greater reason, one that may take some time to discover. All of this was fine, to a point, but there was and still is so many things about this I am not sure I completely understand - I guess time will tell or I will work out that I belive in something different.
So sitting and eaating breakfast on my first morning in Ubud I got talking to one of the locals who works at the hotel I was staying in. He was young, very young, but cute and it seemed to me that he may be flirting with me, although I quickly dissmissed this as I realised that I was about to turn 33 years old and was more unattractive now than I have ever been in my life and could not posibly think what he could find with me that was worth flirting with.
He asked me many questions, the usual, where was I from, was I here alone, where was I going and who was I going with. He asked me if I was going to see Kutut, the local medicine mad who was made famouse by the recent phonominan of 'Eat, Pray, Love'. I was embarressed to tell him that I was indeed planning to get a few seconds of this wine mans time, but of course, it was only for fun. I didn't think it was worth mentioning that it ws really the main reason for my coming to his beautiful country!
His name was Abut and he was handsome. He was also quite charming and although I knew I shouldn't, I agreed to meet him at 11am the following day to go and see a medicine man that he promised would be so much better than the famous Kutut. He said Kutut was like a movie star now and simply inundated with people and had little time to spend with anyone. I didn't belive him. This was not the Kutut I had read about and seen in the movie!
Later that morning I was walking around, well further than around, quite a waay out of town, I was walking through villages and seeing things that bought back memories of my honeymoon with my ex-husband. I figured it was just the fact that I had not been in Asia for so long that basicallially everything looked the same, but it didn't at the same time, it all looked so wsonderful in the hills of Bali. Ubud, I decided, was one hell of a beautiful place, especially if you got up early befor the humidity!
I had seem a dog on my way out of town. Well I had seen many, but this dog needed help. It was sick as could be and skinny and its eyes had rotted in its head from the infection. I cried just seeing it and told myself at the time that I would just have to deal with that if I was going to enjoy this place because I had heard that dogs are not treated well here.
On my walk back from seeing many wonderful things I once again came accross this same dog. I couldn't leave it this time though. I felt that I had to do something for it and I just didn't know what.
I went to the closest 7-11 type store and searched the isles for something to feed it. I found a small can of corned beef and bought it for about 2 cents and took it outside. I was scared the dog would be gone but he was still there. I opened the can and scraped the food out with my finger and he ate it with such furosity that I cried at how hungry he was.
I wanted help for the dog and was approached by a local taxi driver who offered to help. We tried to catch him and put him in the taxi but the dog was so sick and crazy from its illness that there was no persuading it.
The taxi driver offered to drive me to the animal welfare where he assured me I could find someone who would help and perhaps I could organise an ambulance for the dog. I was sceptical buit agreed. I had nothing else to do for the afternoon and hell, I had to try, I couldn't live with muself if I just left the poor thing here to die a slow death.
I drove with the txi driver to the animal welfare place and walked in and was greated by an amazingly tall man, a vet, crouched down and washing two little puppies who were suffering a horrible skin condition, one that is all too common in Bali.
He was busy and yet spoke to me without annoyance or frustration and was at that time, and in my eyes, a simply amazing man. He was calm and patient and accepting of this situation or horrific circumstance and yet wanting to help. I felt instantly the same. I organised an ambulance for the dog I had found and come here to find help for and then offered to volunteer my time to help these beautiful animals. I left with a smile on my face and felt that perhaps there was a reason I had come to bali after all.
1) Its cheep
2) I have never been there
3) The woman who wrote 'Eat, Pray, Love' went there and a medicine mad healed her broken heart, so I figured he could also heal mine.
So I headed off to Bali after a couple of big nights drinking with Geraldine and her ever suffering husband Byron, I say eversuffering simply because he has to endure me being there with my emotional "condition" and my tears and my drinking and talking rubbish all the time and he endures it like a champion, as does Geraldine.....so after coming close to missing my flight because of an alcohol enduced coma I boarded my flight and was off.
On landing I wanted to be sick. The heat and humidity hit me and my hangover like a thick fog of reality and suddenly I was in another country. Shit. What the hell was I going to do now was all my mind could process.
I found my driver and headed towards Ubud, where the woman from 'Eat, Pray, Love' had stayed. I had no idea what I was doing in this place. I hadn't worked out what I wanted to do or where I wanted to go, but driving into the place made me feel calm and collected and really quite at peace.
I settled into my hotel and found my way around and before I knew it the place felt like home. I really fell in love with the place and felt that I might never leave, and if I did, I most certainly would come back, many times. It just felt like home.
I started reading the booklist my shrink had given me many months before and started to annalyise my life and the things that had happened in the last year and even in the time before then and started to reconcile things in my mind. Most of all I started to accept a higher power. Not god or anything of a religious nature. Just the power of the universise to deliver things, good, and bad, and for these things not to be a coincidence or 'fate' as I had always explained them as before, but actual happenings for some greater reason, one that may take some time to discover. All of this was fine, to a point, but there was and still is so many things about this I am not sure I completely understand - I guess time will tell or I will work out that I belive in something different.
So sitting and eaating breakfast on my first morning in Ubud I got talking to one of the locals who works at the hotel I was staying in. He was young, very young, but cute and it seemed to me that he may be flirting with me, although I quickly dissmissed this as I realised that I was about to turn 33 years old and was more unattractive now than I have ever been in my life and could not posibly think what he could find with me that was worth flirting with.
He asked me many questions, the usual, where was I from, was I here alone, where was I going and who was I going with. He asked me if I was going to see Kutut, the local medicine mad who was made famouse by the recent phonominan of 'Eat, Pray, Love'. I was embarressed to tell him that I was indeed planning to get a few seconds of this wine mans time, but of course, it was only for fun. I didn't think it was worth mentioning that it ws really the main reason for my coming to his beautiful country!
His name was Abut and he was handsome. He was also quite charming and although I knew I shouldn't, I agreed to meet him at 11am the following day to go and see a medicine man that he promised would be so much better than the famous Kutut. He said Kutut was like a movie star now and simply inundated with people and had little time to spend with anyone. I didn't belive him. This was not the Kutut I had read about and seen in the movie!
Later that morning I was walking around, well further than around, quite a waay out of town, I was walking through villages and seeing things that bought back memories of my honeymoon with my ex-husband. I figured it was just the fact that I had not been in Asia for so long that basicallially everything looked the same, but it didn't at the same time, it all looked so wsonderful in the hills of Bali. Ubud, I decided, was one hell of a beautiful place, especially if you got up early befor the humidity!
I had seem a dog on my way out of town. Well I had seen many, but this dog needed help. It was sick as could be and skinny and its eyes had rotted in its head from the infection. I cried just seeing it and told myself at the time that I would just have to deal with that if I was going to enjoy this place because I had heard that dogs are not treated well here.
On my walk back from seeing many wonderful things I once again came accross this same dog. I couldn't leave it this time though. I felt that I had to do something for it and I just didn't know what.
I went to the closest 7-11 type store and searched the isles for something to feed it. I found a small can of corned beef and bought it for about 2 cents and took it outside. I was scared the dog would be gone but he was still there. I opened the can and scraped the food out with my finger and he ate it with such furosity that I cried at how hungry he was.
I wanted help for the dog and was approached by a local taxi driver who offered to help. We tried to catch him and put him in the taxi but the dog was so sick and crazy from its illness that there was no persuading it.
The taxi driver offered to drive me to the animal welfare where he assured me I could find someone who would help and perhaps I could organise an ambulance for the dog. I was sceptical buit agreed. I had nothing else to do for the afternoon and hell, I had to try, I couldn't live with muself if I just left the poor thing here to die a slow death.
I drove with the txi driver to the animal welfare place and walked in and was greated by an amazingly tall man, a vet, crouched down and washing two little puppies who were suffering a horrible skin condition, one that is all too common in Bali.
He was busy and yet spoke to me without annoyance or frustration and was at that time, and in my eyes, a simply amazing man. He was calm and patient and accepting of this situation or horrific circumstance and yet wanting to help. I felt instantly the same. I organised an ambulance for the dog I had found and come here to find help for and then offered to volunteer my time to help these beautiful animals. I left with a smile on my face and felt that perhaps there was a reason I had come to bali after all.
The New Year
Well it has been some time since my last installment - I blame that on more upheaval in my life and the presence on the most destructive depression I have ever experienced which rendered me unable to find the appropriate words for basically anything.
After moving out of my uncles house - another disaster for another blog - I moved in with a mutual friend of mine and the ex's. The thing that made this ok really was that firstly he was largely a last resort and also this bloke hates the ex, always has, always has, although has managed to socialise with him and be civil, but I knew when I rung him and told him I was really desperate for somewhere to live because the relationship with the ex was over, he would help me. He did and I will be forever in his debt, even though it was not the best of living arrangements......again, another blog for another day.
So that makes 7 moves in 12 months........not bad for someone who hates moving and has a phobia of not having somewhere permanent to live and call home.
My 8th move came a week before Christmas. It happened suddenly and was all down to the shear tenacity and determination of my friend Geraldine who, whilst I was searching for rentals online one Friday afternoon after we had finished work. We spotted a place around the corner from her home and she rung, spoke to the agent (pretending she was me) and within 2 minutes we were out the door and on our way to look at the place. It was fantastic and perfect in every way. By the morning of the following Monday the house was mine with a large (but refundable) bond because of the 2 crazy dogs.
The move was frantic and crazy and due to the large house I was moving to, there was much that needed to be purchased, and yet a constant nagging feeling that I wished I wasn't doing this because I had always thought I would eventually go "home".
We purchased furniture and organised movers and filled cars and trailers and within only a short time I had a new home. I was more than content to leave it at that and just let things sit in boxes and furniture be in places that looked silly, but Geraldine wouldn't have it. She organised the place and made it feel like home.
Christmas came and went without any fuss or anything to mention. It was filled with sadness and memories I would rather forget - and also the news of my dear friend Tim, also an ex from long ago who has been battling cancer, having less than 6 months to live. This was hard to handle but seemed not to be all that real just then.
He was tired and in terrible health, but the end seemed so much further away and there seemed to be so much more time - and actually, I just don't deal with this stuff very well and was happy enough to ignore it, at least for now, although I had my moments of 'everyone always leaves me' - and you know what - they seem to do just that!
So the time was spent mainly alone, thinking about all that I had lost and where I felt I 'really should be' in my life and who I should be with at this time when everyone else seemed to be so happy and I felt like I was just dead inside, and yet still full of the most horrific pain I had ever felt.
New Years Eve came and went after falling asleep on the couch at 10.30pm and missing the whole thing - I was pleased to have rolled myself a joint that would put a whole suburb to sleep for a week, so waking up the following day was actually a great deal less painful than having to sit there and watch the clock strike midnight on my own.
I watched a program earlier that day that recommended that even if you have no one to kiss on New Years Eve you should kiss your dog, because kissing in itself is good luck no matter who you kiss - I kissed my dogs when I woke up, but I do that everyday anyway and I am not sure that it has ever bought me that much luck - although it has made me extremely happy to do so as they never refuse kisses and are always happy to give and receive and they never hate you, even if you get drunk and forget to feed them every so often!
This period was pure misery for me. I have never wanted anything else in my life but a happy family. I have never had it, not really anyway, although Nan always did her best and those days will always be happy ones for me - but the only really happy Christmas I ever had was last year with the ex and the scraps of my family that still remain. It was blissful and truly filled with joy. A day I will honestly never forget.
I was upset in the lead up to Christmas about spending it once again, alone and someone said to me 'if you don't have a family, make your own' words that I am sure were meant to comfort and inspire but only served to sting even harder, because yes, that was the plan. We were meant to create a family, but that dream was over and at Christmas, it was more real that it had been before.
I knew that if we spent Christmas apart that there would be no way of going back. No way of recovering what I thought we had, at some point. It hurt that he didn't care about that and didn't care about the fact that I had always put so much into Christmas - and that I would be on my own this year and that we would never spend a Christmas together again. Yes that hurt a great deal. More than the months apart.
The New Year bought for me a time of great reflection on the year that had proceeded. I thought about where I was and what I was doing 'this time last year' - a habit I really need to get out of - but one that also brings about a great learning experience, if you let it.
Last year was the year my life changed in ways that I could never have imagined. I sold my house, a thing more precious to me than life itself and when it was gone, I actually simply did not want to live anymore. I sold it and hung onto the dream of creating a family with a man I thought I loved and who I thought loved me, I believed that selling the house was a way of showing him that I was ready to commit, and ready to be with him without my retreat. I made a terrible financial mistake that caused us to have 'time apart' which was always going to be temporary and then, just became permanent, and I really am not sure when. A year when everything I thought I was and had worked to become suddenly became completely insignificant and completely turned upside down.
So with all that in mind, I did nothing but miss him. Everything about him. I missed his laugh, his eyes, his arms, his kiss and the complete and utter happiness that being with him bought me. It was not until later that I realised that I was still deluding myself about him and what that situation had delivered for me.
After moving out of my uncles house - another disaster for another blog - I moved in with a mutual friend of mine and the ex's. The thing that made this ok really was that firstly he was largely a last resort and also this bloke hates the ex, always has, always has, although has managed to socialise with him and be civil, but I knew when I rung him and told him I was really desperate for somewhere to live because the relationship with the ex was over, he would help me. He did and I will be forever in his debt, even though it was not the best of living arrangements......again, another blog for another day.
So that makes 7 moves in 12 months........not bad for someone who hates moving and has a phobia of not having somewhere permanent to live and call home.
My 8th move came a week before Christmas. It happened suddenly and was all down to the shear tenacity and determination of my friend Geraldine who, whilst I was searching for rentals online one Friday afternoon after we had finished work. We spotted a place around the corner from her home and she rung, spoke to the agent (pretending she was me) and within 2 minutes we were out the door and on our way to look at the place. It was fantastic and perfect in every way. By the morning of the following Monday the house was mine with a large (but refundable) bond because of the 2 crazy dogs.
The move was frantic and crazy and due to the large house I was moving to, there was much that needed to be purchased, and yet a constant nagging feeling that I wished I wasn't doing this because I had always thought I would eventually go "home".
We purchased furniture and organised movers and filled cars and trailers and within only a short time I had a new home. I was more than content to leave it at that and just let things sit in boxes and furniture be in places that looked silly, but Geraldine wouldn't have it. She organised the place and made it feel like home.
Christmas came and went without any fuss or anything to mention. It was filled with sadness and memories I would rather forget - and also the news of my dear friend Tim, also an ex from long ago who has been battling cancer, having less than 6 months to live. This was hard to handle but seemed not to be all that real just then.
He was tired and in terrible health, but the end seemed so much further away and there seemed to be so much more time - and actually, I just don't deal with this stuff very well and was happy enough to ignore it, at least for now, although I had my moments of 'everyone always leaves me' - and you know what - they seem to do just that!
So the time was spent mainly alone, thinking about all that I had lost and where I felt I 'really should be' in my life and who I should be with at this time when everyone else seemed to be so happy and I felt like I was just dead inside, and yet still full of the most horrific pain I had ever felt.
New Years Eve came and went after falling asleep on the couch at 10.30pm and missing the whole thing - I was pleased to have rolled myself a joint that would put a whole suburb to sleep for a week, so waking up the following day was actually a great deal less painful than having to sit there and watch the clock strike midnight on my own.
I watched a program earlier that day that recommended that even if you have no one to kiss on New Years Eve you should kiss your dog, because kissing in itself is good luck no matter who you kiss - I kissed my dogs when I woke up, but I do that everyday anyway and I am not sure that it has ever bought me that much luck - although it has made me extremely happy to do so as they never refuse kisses and are always happy to give and receive and they never hate you, even if you get drunk and forget to feed them every so often!
This period was pure misery for me. I have never wanted anything else in my life but a happy family. I have never had it, not really anyway, although Nan always did her best and those days will always be happy ones for me - but the only really happy Christmas I ever had was last year with the ex and the scraps of my family that still remain. It was blissful and truly filled with joy. A day I will honestly never forget.
I was upset in the lead up to Christmas about spending it once again, alone and someone said to me 'if you don't have a family, make your own' words that I am sure were meant to comfort and inspire but only served to sting even harder, because yes, that was the plan. We were meant to create a family, but that dream was over and at Christmas, it was more real that it had been before.
I knew that if we spent Christmas apart that there would be no way of going back. No way of recovering what I thought we had, at some point. It hurt that he didn't care about that and didn't care about the fact that I had always put so much into Christmas - and that I would be on my own this year and that we would never spend a Christmas together again. Yes that hurt a great deal. More than the months apart.
The New Year bought for me a time of great reflection on the year that had proceeded. I thought about where I was and what I was doing 'this time last year' - a habit I really need to get out of - but one that also brings about a great learning experience, if you let it.
Last year was the year my life changed in ways that I could never have imagined. I sold my house, a thing more precious to me than life itself and when it was gone, I actually simply did not want to live anymore. I sold it and hung onto the dream of creating a family with a man I thought I loved and who I thought loved me, I believed that selling the house was a way of showing him that I was ready to commit, and ready to be with him without my retreat. I made a terrible financial mistake that caused us to have 'time apart' which was always going to be temporary and then, just became permanent, and I really am not sure when. A year when everything I thought I was and had worked to become suddenly became completely insignificant and completely turned upside down.
So with all that in mind, I did nothing but miss him. Everything about him. I missed his laugh, his eyes, his arms, his kiss and the complete and utter happiness that being with him bought me. It was not until later that I realised that I was still deluding myself about him and what that situation had delivered for me.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
On the market
So I have become extremely organised and resurrecting my RSVP profile, signed up to every singles event newsletter and singles evenings and even contemplating some 'holidays for singles', but my beautiful friend Geraldine tells me that all of this is a waste of time and that the secret is that it’s all about networking.
Her theory is that at my age, ready to have children and wanting something meaningful in my life, it’s a waste of my time to be doing all of this other stuff, she reckons it’s all about putting the word out with friends that its time to be set up on some dates with some like minded men who fit with my requirements and being selective about WHY they are single at this stage of their life, presuming that they would be older than myself…….
We have decided to draw the line at anyone past 40. Clearly this may knock out a large proportion of the market but it has been decided that, especially in light of my recent experience with a very dysfunctional 40 something then its probably best to raise the standards and not date anyone who is single for all the wrong reasons.
So Geraldine is out there finding single men for me! She is asking all the men and women she knows if they know a single good-looking man who fits my criteria, and also wears decent shoes, as there is nothing I hate more than a man with shocking shoes! She tells me that I must do the same with all those I know, so I have done, and we have all the girls at work and their husbands on the job to find candidates!
Already there have been some mumblings of some possibilities and one certainty, a friend of my cousins, although he is fabulous for all the right reasons he is also very young, but I have decided to give it a shot anyway because I really enjoy his company, he is smart, witty, ridiculously good-looking and a completely decent bloke.
Now I’m not going to say that he is my dream boat, that he is going to be my next husband or that I will even like him in a few weeks, but this is just the start of my search for true love and I am willing to give anything a go, clearly I failed miserably before so I figure that trying new things and new people out for size is the best way forward.
I was discussing this with my shrink at our regular Friday date last week and she asked me what I have learnt from my recent heartbreak. I started to speak and then realised just how much damage it had really done. I started seeing my shrink because I was having a great deal of trouble trusting the x and his intentions and actions and don’t think I ever truly believed that he cared about me (as it turned out I was right, however) and this was a reflection on many situations and relationships of broken trust as a child and compounded by the grief of the loss of my grandparents.
So the irony of the situation is that in order to improve myself and my ability to trust and trust the person I was in a relationship, I sought help, and during this time I was deceived and lied to and experienced such a huge amount of horrible treatment that what I have now learnt from the situation is not to trust even more, I have actually gone backwards. I think I will be less tolerant, more defensive and less emotionally available that I ever was before!
What else have I learned from the situation? Well I am not completely sure yet, but I am certain I will figure it out and not make the same mistakes again.
Her theory is that at my age, ready to have children and wanting something meaningful in my life, it’s a waste of my time to be doing all of this other stuff, she reckons it’s all about putting the word out with friends that its time to be set up on some dates with some like minded men who fit with my requirements and being selective about WHY they are single at this stage of their life, presuming that they would be older than myself…….
We have decided to draw the line at anyone past 40. Clearly this may knock out a large proportion of the market but it has been decided that, especially in light of my recent experience with a very dysfunctional 40 something then its probably best to raise the standards and not date anyone who is single for all the wrong reasons.
So Geraldine is out there finding single men for me! She is asking all the men and women she knows if they know a single good-looking man who fits my criteria, and also wears decent shoes, as there is nothing I hate more than a man with shocking shoes! She tells me that I must do the same with all those I know, so I have done, and we have all the girls at work and their husbands on the job to find candidates!
Already there have been some mumblings of some possibilities and one certainty, a friend of my cousins, although he is fabulous for all the right reasons he is also very young, but I have decided to give it a shot anyway because I really enjoy his company, he is smart, witty, ridiculously good-looking and a completely decent bloke.
Now I’m not going to say that he is my dream boat, that he is going to be my next husband or that I will even like him in a few weeks, but this is just the start of my search for true love and I am willing to give anything a go, clearly I failed miserably before so I figure that trying new things and new people out for size is the best way forward.
I was discussing this with my shrink at our regular Friday date last week and she asked me what I have learnt from my recent heartbreak. I started to speak and then realised just how much damage it had really done. I started seeing my shrink because I was having a great deal of trouble trusting the x and his intentions and actions and don’t think I ever truly believed that he cared about me (as it turned out I was right, however) and this was a reflection on many situations and relationships of broken trust as a child and compounded by the grief of the loss of my grandparents.
So the irony of the situation is that in order to improve myself and my ability to trust and trust the person I was in a relationship, I sought help, and during this time I was deceived and lied to and experienced such a huge amount of horrible treatment that what I have now learnt from the situation is not to trust even more, I have actually gone backwards. I think I will be less tolerant, more defensive and less emotionally available that I ever was before!
What else have I learned from the situation? Well I am not completely sure yet, but I am certain I will figure it out and not make the same mistakes again.
Monday, October 4, 2010
The end of heartbreak hotel!
Well it’s been a while since my last update and much has happened. I decided to cast off all hope of reconciling with the x and decided to go to Europe for a month. To say that I had the time of my life would be an understatement.
I think I was completely and utterly overdue for a holiday and the stress and upheaval of the past 12 months had left me utterly drained of the ability to function and think clearly, not to mention the physical toll the whole nightmare had been taking on my body – which became very evident once I got to London and almost as soon as I touched down I became sick with a shocking flu.
After spending some time with my best friend Phil who now lives in London and has done for more than two years now, we started our journey with a group of fellow sports nuts to watch the Socceroos play some “friendlies” in Switzerland and then Poland. We travelled through Germany as well and after the soccer was over the group went back to London and I continued on my travels alone.
My first stop was Germany (again, but in a different spot) and then I went on to Austria where I fulfilled my lifelong dream of going on the “Sound of Music Tour”!! Given that this was a lifelong dream, to see where my favourite movie in the world was made, one might have thought that I would have at least done some minor research into where exactly in Austria I needed to be in order to go on the tour – but I hadn’t done so much as a google search until I was comfortably settled in Vienna and then realised it was actually Salzburg I needed to be!
This was only a minor hitch in my plan, and provided a fabulous opportunity to travel across Vienna to Salzburg and see the beautiful sights of Austria. So I managed to sort my train ticket out, and even get on the right train and finally fulfil my dream – and it was everything I ever imagined and so much more.
The hardest part of the travel I did on my own was just that, being on my own. I didn’t know any of the languages and I was alone, all the time and that was hard. I had to rely on myself being able to get around and do what I wanted to see and see what I wanted to see whilst trying to still recover from a horrible break up and try to reconcile my thoughts about this and realise that I am not only alone and on holidays but I am now alone in every sense of the word.
When I returned to London to stay with Phil and another friend Michelle who share a flat there I was completely exhausted but glad to have to company and was starting to feel better after my dose of the flu. I had a great time in London and Michelle and Phil made me feel like I was just part of the furniture, not uncomfortable or imposing on their small space and showed me some of the best and happiest times of my life – the shopping was amazing as was the whole City.
During my holiday I met two men who I am sure found the sight and sounds of my deadly flu a rather huge turn off! And whilst nothing actually happened with either of them it felt great to be treated so well, to have a flirty conversation with someone who showed interest in me, who thought I was funny and fun to be around. Mainly I found it lovely to be treated with respect and dignity and it made me believe again that I am deserving of this. My decision was made. When I returned I would not settle for anything less again, as I had done for such a long time.
Soon after returning home I actually realised whilst driving along one day that I am happy. I even found myself smiling despite having some unresolved issues with the x, I found that I was and could be happy without him.
When we met to discuss the unresolved issues I realised how little he knew about me. He didn’t know about my work, he wasn’t even interested in it. I had the opportunity to have my questions answered after six long months of torture and doubt and most of all I realised that he had not been taking time out to work on himself as he had said and as I had done, he was just exactly the same as he was six months ago and some of the things that have been going on during this supposed period of self-improvement have been, well to say disrespectful to me would be an understatement.
I walked away from this meeting knowing that I would not be back with him again. I left with a heavy heart but knowing that the door was now shut on that part of my life and I simply have to get over how much I have lost by believing that we would be together and build a happy life. My dignity and self respect are just far too important to me to compromise.
I had hoped that he might see where he went wrong and gave him the opportunity to discuss this, but he chose not to and I have accepted that and I now have my closure.
I have no idea where my life will take me now. I have fantastic work plans that are coming together and I am getting more pleasure out of my work than I have ever done. Whilst I am sad about what has happened, I am happy to hold my head high, plan my next trip and keep smiling about the world of possibilities available to me now.
I think I was completely and utterly overdue for a holiday and the stress and upheaval of the past 12 months had left me utterly drained of the ability to function and think clearly, not to mention the physical toll the whole nightmare had been taking on my body – which became very evident once I got to London and almost as soon as I touched down I became sick with a shocking flu.
After spending some time with my best friend Phil who now lives in London and has done for more than two years now, we started our journey with a group of fellow sports nuts to watch the Socceroos play some “friendlies” in Switzerland and then Poland. We travelled through Germany as well and after the soccer was over the group went back to London and I continued on my travels alone.
My first stop was Germany (again, but in a different spot) and then I went on to Austria where I fulfilled my lifelong dream of going on the “Sound of Music Tour”!! Given that this was a lifelong dream, to see where my favourite movie in the world was made, one might have thought that I would have at least done some minor research into where exactly in Austria I needed to be in order to go on the tour – but I hadn’t done so much as a google search until I was comfortably settled in Vienna and then realised it was actually Salzburg I needed to be!
This was only a minor hitch in my plan, and provided a fabulous opportunity to travel across Vienna to Salzburg and see the beautiful sights of Austria. So I managed to sort my train ticket out, and even get on the right train and finally fulfil my dream – and it was everything I ever imagined and so much more.
The hardest part of the travel I did on my own was just that, being on my own. I didn’t know any of the languages and I was alone, all the time and that was hard. I had to rely on myself being able to get around and do what I wanted to see and see what I wanted to see whilst trying to still recover from a horrible break up and try to reconcile my thoughts about this and realise that I am not only alone and on holidays but I am now alone in every sense of the word.
When I returned to London to stay with Phil and another friend Michelle who share a flat there I was completely exhausted but glad to have to company and was starting to feel better after my dose of the flu. I had a great time in London and Michelle and Phil made me feel like I was just part of the furniture, not uncomfortable or imposing on their small space and showed me some of the best and happiest times of my life – the shopping was amazing as was the whole City.
During my holiday I met two men who I am sure found the sight and sounds of my deadly flu a rather huge turn off! And whilst nothing actually happened with either of them it felt great to be treated so well, to have a flirty conversation with someone who showed interest in me, who thought I was funny and fun to be around. Mainly I found it lovely to be treated with respect and dignity and it made me believe again that I am deserving of this. My decision was made. When I returned I would not settle for anything less again, as I had done for such a long time.
Soon after returning home I actually realised whilst driving along one day that I am happy. I even found myself smiling despite having some unresolved issues with the x, I found that I was and could be happy without him.
When we met to discuss the unresolved issues I realised how little he knew about me. He didn’t know about my work, he wasn’t even interested in it. I had the opportunity to have my questions answered after six long months of torture and doubt and most of all I realised that he had not been taking time out to work on himself as he had said and as I had done, he was just exactly the same as he was six months ago and some of the things that have been going on during this supposed period of self-improvement have been, well to say disrespectful to me would be an understatement.
I walked away from this meeting knowing that I would not be back with him again. I left with a heavy heart but knowing that the door was now shut on that part of my life and I simply have to get over how much I have lost by believing that we would be together and build a happy life. My dignity and self respect are just far too important to me to compromise.
I had hoped that he might see where he went wrong and gave him the opportunity to discuss this, but he chose not to and I have accepted that and I now have my closure.
I have no idea where my life will take me now. I have fantastic work plans that are coming together and I am getting more pleasure out of my work than I have ever done. Whilst I am sad about what has happened, I am happy to hold my head high, plan my next trip and keep smiling about the world of possibilities available to me now.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Onwards and upwards Part 2
So my mood and life in general seem to be looking up. I have dates locked in for my first trip to London and also second trip I am planning as well. So this is something which is making me very excited and making me feel like this misery will not last forever!
I have finally have the acceptance that things with 'him' are over. I tried one last time to try to ask if we can talk to try work things out, but I had also hoped that even if we couldn’t work things out that we could at least have some closure and end this properly, and there was no response. Rejected again.
I spent Friday night with my beautiful friend Geraldine and after having dinner with her gorgeous girls and wonderful husband and the girls had gone to bed being in the environment once again further reinforced that this is the life I want, and that its won’t be happening with ‘him’.
We sat outside, having a wine and I told her of my last attempt to save things with 'him'. She has always been a huge supporter of us getting things sorted but after I told her that once again I was rejected, she held my hand as I cried and I said 'he’s not coming back is he?' and she just looked at me with the saddest eyes and shook her head and said 'no'. I cried. But then was acceptance.
The following day was sad. Dad came over we watched DVDs and ate curry and I slept allot and felt sad. Even though Collingwood did kick some serious Carlton arse which I must admit, did bring a mild smile to the dial! But the next day was a new day. A readiness to look forward and not think about the silly dreams anymore.
They were silly dreams. Dreams that I have now left behind because my self-esteem and confidence are so much improved when I’m not being told something is going to happen that never really is. I now realise I have been a puppet on a string, hoping and praying that 'he' means what he says. But now I know its too long. Love dies and resentment builds and the need to be loved again and shown love becomes overwhelming.
I am trying not to look back on the last two years and the sacrifices I have made as a waste, but at my age, lets face it, even my dad thinks it was, given my desire I have to have a family. Anyway, that’s the morbid part. The good news is that now I know its over I feel free to start my life again.
I woke this morning feeling alive again. I have done so much cleaning out of the garage which contains all my worldly possessions and includes memories I don’t need. And have made a roast! Like I used to make for 'him' on Sundays. But this time I am making it for my family. The people who will love me through thick and thin.
I have finally have the acceptance that things with 'him' are over. I tried one last time to try to ask if we can talk to try work things out, but I had also hoped that even if we couldn’t work things out that we could at least have some closure and end this properly, and there was no response. Rejected again.
I spent Friday night with my beautiful friend Geraldine and after having dinner with her gorgeous girls and wonderful husband and the girls had gone to bed being in the environment once again further reinforced that this is the life I want, and that its won’t be happening with ‘him’.
We sat outside, having a wine and I told her of my last attempt to save things with 'him'. She has always been a huge supporter of us getting things sorted but after I told her that once again I was rejected, she held my hand as I cried and I said 'he’s not coming back is he?' and she just looked at me with the saddest eyes and shook her head and said 'no'. I cried. But then was acceptance.
The following day was sad. Dad came over we watched DVDs and ate curry and I slept allot and felt sad. Even though Collingwood did kick some serious Carlton arse which I must admit, did bring a mild smile to the dial! But the next day was a new day. A readiness to look forward and not think about the silly dreams anymore.
They were silly dreams. Dreams that I have now left behind because my self-esteem and confidence are so much improved when I’m not being told something is going to happen that never really is. I now realise I have been a puppet on a string, hoping and praying that 'he' means what he says. But now I know its too long. Love dies and resentment builds and the need to be loved again and shown love becomes overwhelming.
I am trying not to look back on the last two years and the sacrifices I have made as a waste, but at my age, lets face it, even my dad thinks it was, given my desire I have to have a family. Anyway, that’s the morbid part. The good news is that now I know its over I feel free to start my life again.
I woke this morning feeling alive again. I have done so much cleaning out of the garage which contains all my worldly possessions and includes memories I don’t need. And have made a roast! Like I used to make for 'him' on Sundays. But this time I am making it for my family. The people who will love me through thick and thin.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Onwards and upwards
Ok. So I’m starting to feel like the hard times are coming to an end. I’m feeling quite proud that I now have my driver’s license back and have at this point driven three times. Avoiding turning left or right and rain, although it did rain yesterday when I went to the shops so I did a Granma drive home, even though it was less than 1.5km and was only spitting with rain.
Its worth mentioning here that that I was in a very serious car accident just before my 21st birthday and it was largely as a result of some serious rain and I have a serious phobia as a result, plus my general hate, loathing actually of driving.
So my news today was good. My settlement on my house is actually going to come through in a week. This does nothing to improve my relationship status as I was told so many times it would. The promise was always that once I had sorted this mess out and got myself together that I could go home. This has changed many times and 'he' has seen me for around and hour I think no more than six times in the last four months.
So that demonstrates something to me that I have been trying to avoid accepting. This is a total lack of interest and support in me as a person and really does speak volumes about my value to him. So as much as I am still in love with 'him' I need to have the wake up call, and I think I finally have.
I clearly mean so much less to 'him' as has been demonstrated, and when I put myself in the opposite situation and think, what I would have done if this happened to someone I loved, (even if it was largely their own fault) and the answer I keep coming back with is that I would NEVER have left them totally alone. Clearly my powers of identifying a good partner could use some refinement as I believe in loyalty and sticking, through thick and thin.
But, as one of my best and dearest friends pointed out to me earlier this week, he’s just letting it go on not to hurt you but because he is just really bad at breaking up – and this to me sounds like the most likely scenario because I know he is not a bad person and I am not angry with him anymore.
So I am looking forward to getting on with the next phase of my life.
The first thing I need to do is go to London to see my darling Phil. Then I need to work out how to fall in love again, not even that so much, just how to trust again, how to get to a point where I am healed enough to let myself think that not every man I sleep with or enter a relationship with is just going to hurt me.
When I go to London I want to have fun and the possibility of having those butterflies and the excitement of the first kiss and the first sexual experience in a LONG time and even maybe fall in lust or love and then have to leave that behind, I think I can do that.
The endless possibilities and opportunities I am now presented with are nothing short of exciting and filling me with a positive energy that is making me feel somewhat invincible after so many months of being downtrodden.
I am looking forward to meet someone who thinks I’m ace, who loves me for my caring nature, my big arse, my loud mouth, my love for my dogs and my dedication to a relationships and friendships, and these are all qualities I need to keep reminding myself that I have, and that this past relationship did not work out because I am rubbish but because he couldn’t see or didn’t value these qualities and frankly, at the end of the day, he can’t commit.
So yes, I expect to go to London and get drunk allot and travel around Europe and have the time of my life. The 11th of September could not come around any sooner!
Its worth mentioning here that that I was in a very serious car accident just before my 21st birthday and it was largely as a result of some serious rain and I have a serious phobia as a result, plus my general hate, loathing actually of driving.
So my news today was good. My settlement on my house is actually going to come through in a week. This does nothing to improve my relationship status as I was told so many times it would. The promise was always that once I had sorted this mess out and got myself together that I could go home. This has changed many times and 'he' has seen me for around and hour I think no more than six times in the last four months.
So that demonstrates something to me that I have been trying to avoid accepting. This is a total lack of interest and support in me as a person and really does speak volumes about my value to him. So as much as I am still in love with 'him' I need to have the wake up call, and I think I finally have.
I clearly mean so much less to 'him' as has been demonstrated, and when I put myself in the opposite situation and think, what I would have done if this happened to someone I loved, (even if it was largely their own fault) and the answer I keep coming back with is that I would NEVER have left them totally alone. Clearly my powers of identifying a good partner could use some refinement as I believe in loyalty and sticking, through thick and thin.
But, as one of my best and dearest friends pointed out to me earlier this week, he’s just letting it go on not to hurt you but because he is just really bad at breaking up – and this to me sounds like the most likely scenario because I know he is not a bad person and I am not angry with him anymore.
So I am looking forward to getting on with the next phase of my life.
The first thing I need to do is go to London to see my darling Phil. Then I need to work out how to fall in love again, not even that so much, just how to trust again, how to get to a point where I am healed enough to let myself think that not every man I sleep with or enter a relationship with is just going to hurt me.
When I go to London I want to have fun and the possibility of having those butterflies and the excitement of the first kiss and the first sexual experience in a LONG time and even maybe fall in lust or love and then have to leave that behind, I think I can do that.
The endless possibilities and opportunities I am now presented with are nothing short of exciting and filling me with a positive energy that is making me feel somewhat invincible after so many months of being downtrodden.
I am looking forward to meet someone who thinks I’m ace, who loves me for my caring nature, my big arse, my loud mouth, my love for my dogs and my dedication to a relationships and friendships, and these are all qualities I need to keep reminding myself that I have, and that this past relationship did not work out because I am rubbish but because he couldn’t see or didn’t value these qualities and frankly, at the end of the day, he can’t commit.
So yes, I expect to go to London and get drunk allot and travel around Europe and have the time of my life. The 11th of September could not come around any sooner!
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