The olive branch

I haven’t blogged in a while because things have been crazy. Me and A have fully split up and myself and my son now live on our own in a little masionette. A’s addictions have got worse but that’s not really a surprise. 

I can’t remember if I blogged about this before but I fell out with A’s dad when I refused to pay A’s debt off. I didn’t want to pay the debt of someone who I knew would fuck me over. He would forever be that mans son but I couldn’t trust he would be in mine and my sons life. 

Anyway, move to today and at 4.20am his two brothers call me. First of all I thought something bad had happened but then they just kept going on and on about how they were worried about A. It confused me as they never bother. They never come and see my son, never call me to see how we are so I was confused over their sudden interest in someone else’s well being other than their own. 

The phone calls continued for the whole day until we managed to get hold of A. Being a nice person and not wanting to hold a grudge, I offered for one brother and the dad to come to my house with A and see Freddie. I practically ran me and Freddie home, sacrificed my dinner to make sure the house was tidy and sat here with my little boy waiting. 2 hours later I get told they are no longer coming because the brother has turned up blind drunk. Would seem like the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree at all. A can’t see why I am upset, cannot see why I am spitting feathers. 

I’m hurt they couldn’t make the effort for my son. I’m hurt that getting drunk is more important than seeing an innocent little child. I am also massively annoyed with myself for offering that olive brand and allowing that stupid fucking family to affect me again. I sit here watching my little angel sleeping and keep thinking I will never ever let anyone let you down. 

I’ve gone mad over the phone but who wouldn’t? Why should we be put on the back burner. If my family did that I would kick them out and run round to see my son. I wouldn’t sit there all night when I haven’t seen my son for days and turn up when he is asleep just to pick up a charger. 

Tonight I will make a promise to myself to follow my gut and not let people in who I know will just let us down. Tonight I will let the anger go that I feel and realise it is their loss and not mine. Tonight I will finally say goodbye to that family. 

Goodbye and good riddance as I throw that olive branch out the window! 


How do you like your abuse in the morning?….

So this morning I wake up and come downstairs with my little boy and A is still here. When I mention him being paid and us paying the rent you would think I’d just said that I’d murdered his family in the most awful way! Even though he is the one that has got us into massive debt which means we hardly have any money, apparently I’m the big C word! 

He called me that with my little boy in ear shot and screamed at shouted at me at 6.30 this morning. Now I have to go to my parents and ask them to lend me money so I can pay my rent and buy food because A is more interested in having money to be able to go to the pub with his silly little mates. 

Last night he told me he wished I could go to the pub with him and socialise. I’m at a loss here. This man told me 2 weeks ago he felt like he was one step away from dying and that he has an addiction but now that addictions not convienent! Why would I enable him and go and sit down the pub with someone who verbally abuses me and threatens to make me homeless. When I said I can’t do that he basically made out I was boring. At the moment I don’t feel like I can win. I feel like I’m lost in a massive forest where everything looks the same and I’m going round in circles. 

I just keep holding onto the fact that in a couple of weeks time I am moving into a home that is just mine and my sons. That we will have a fresh start and a new beginning. My son just told me we will have a new car and a fireman sam! Here’s hoping! 

Stop crying….you’re pathetic

Is it pathetic to cry? If you cry because you are sad or someone is hurting you are you pathetic to cry? Are you weak? 

I have always been someone that has worn my heart on my sleeve. I will happily cry at Eastenders and not be ashamed of it but lately A has started to make me feel that I’m pathetic because I cry. 

My heart genuinely hurts, it’s hurts for the love I have lost, for the fact my son will never truly have his dad 100% and for the fact that my best friend would rather drink than be happy. I regularly hear him say to ‘stop crying…you’re pathetic’ i know it’s his guilt and every tear that he watches fall ends up in his pool of shamefulness but should he still be saying this to me? 

Some people say this is emotional abuse and I guess in a way it is but no one should ever be made to feel pathetic because they cry. I would never look down on someone because they cried over a sad situation or even a happy one. It’s such a natural human emotion sometimes to a very unnatural situation. 

Is me crying pathetic or is he pathetic for not understanding the hurt he causes? I’m think I’m starting to know the answer to that question…..

Easier said than done…

I’m not naive I know that beating addiction is not an easy thing. I know that an addict has to want to change themselves and understand they have an addiction before changes can actually take place. I suppose sometimes I do fall into the trap of ‘come on there is so much you can do to get help’ I’m not an addict so I can’t begin to understand the hold it has over someone but I still can’t help but have the thoughts of ‘why can’t you get better for us?’

A has started going to meetings on 3 separate occasions and each time after a very insignificant amount of time he stops going as he thinks he is ‘cured’. A still hasn’t come to terms with the fact he will be an addict for the rest of his life. No matter whether he has been clean for years he will always, ultimately, be an addict. 

It hurts me to think that the happiness he feels when he is sober and how much better our family life is, is not enough to make him want to completely stop and do everything in his power to do that. 

I have come to terms with the fact that this relationship needs to end and that myself and my son will be better off not living with A any longer. I think the reason I have stuck around so long is because I have been petrified of what will happen to A if we aren’t around. I have realised that I can’t worry about that anymore because A does not consider us when he is on one of his benders. 

My piece of mind has been robbed on so many occasions and the amount of nights I have cried myself to sleep, well there has been many I haven’t been able to keep count. You see, whilst he is destroying his body and his life he is also destroying his one support system. There comes a point when I have to value myself more and remove myself from a toxic situation. Sunnier days are ahead, I can just about feel the sun on my skin. I just hope that A follows the same path…

Why does it still bother me?

I ask myself all the time why it still affects me that A goes on these benders or says nasty things to me. Why do I still get so worked up over the things he does and says? Sometimes I feel like I’m a pushover and maybe the fact I clearly don’t have respect for myself means he doesn’t have respect for me? 

Sometimes I think no, I’m a good person to stick by you and support you even if it is making me ill. I would have thought after all the things he has done it wouldn’t hurt anymore, it would be like water off a ducks back but it isn’t. I’m getting better at handling the betrayal and the lies but they still cut deep. 

I’m trying to stop this and change my life by listening to speeches about positive thinking. By hoping that if I change my mindset then my life will change. From tomorrow I will be trying to do 7 days of positive thinking…..wish my luck 🙂

Why am I not good enough? 

So A is still on his bender! Last night he threatened me with not paying towards the rent and making me and my son homeless if I didn’t transfer money straight away. Apparently I’m a psycho bitch as well which is nice and he can do what he wants. 

It’s funny because when someone has an addiction and they are so involved in their addiction they see you as the bad person. A sees me as a bad person because I’m trying to help him. I’m trying to make it so he still has his son in his life. I don’t have an addiction so I don’t understand the power of it but if I thought I would lose my son and I would my shit out pretty sharpish. 

I spent some time last night wondering why I’m not good enough? Why doesn’t he want to change to make me and My son happy? Why is our love not strong enough to make him see how lucky he is? And then I realised it isn’t me! I am good enough! He is the one with the problem. He is the one with the beer goggles on. 

I don’t think A realises that if he continues like this he will be on his own for a very long time. Either that or he will find someone who is weak and vulnerable that he can spin a load of bullshit to. 

What hurts me the most though is that it feels like he doesn’t care about my son at all. That having that drink or potentially that line gives him more satisfaction than seeing my son laugh or getting a cuddle off him. 

Then again, I guess that’s addiction for you? 

Where it may have begun…

Trigger points

I suppose I should start with my Dad! My god I love my Dad so much. My Dad had his faults and he was an alcoholic but when he wasn’t drinking, my real dad, was the loveliest, most generous person you could ever meet. A proper east end gem!

My mum and dad split up when I was very young. He was a bit of a ladies man and all his life suffered with issues; like bulimia and alcoholism. I believe he may have gone through a period of his life taking a lot of speed but I wasn’t aware of that situation.

My Dad lived a fast lifestyle and, as such, when I was a small child I didn’t see him regularly. He would turn up every few weeks, throw a load of toys or money at me and that would be it. He never paid my mum maintenance and my mum was my dad as well in a way. You see my dad had things happen to him as a child that made him the way he was.

I remember being scared of seeing my Dad on his own because of his drinking and unpredictable behaviour. He married a lady who was an alcoholic and from that his drinking became dependant rather than social or occasional. It was after this I wouldn’t see him too much on my own. Well that was until I reached teenage years and became the stroppiest bitch in town and would answer back.
I knew if my Dad was calling me after 4pm that he was drunk and I was going to get a lot of verbal. Sometimes he would have ridiculous requests like I got in a helicopter with him to visit my uncle in the south of the country. Sometimes I genuinely thought he believed he could get that helicopter to hover over my house and let down a ladder for me to climb up. He also made my step mums life very hard. She stuck by him through thick and thin and he took her for granted.

My Dad could drink copious amounts of brandy, on the rocks may I add, without being drunk. He was over 20 stone and had a belly that looked like he was carrying quads. I remember him tapping his belly and saying ‘cost me a lot of money to make this’.

Eventually he had a stomach bypass and lost a large amount of weight and from that he found a lump in his neck. I’m guessing you know where this is going but my Dad passed away just before Christmas nearly 8 years ago. In some ways I feel cheated because I didn’t get close to my Dad until later in my life. I feel I missed out and only got some of the worst parts of my Dad when he was drinking. I just wanted his time and not his money. I remember writing a letter which I never sent. It was after one of his drunken ramblings. I said if you don’t sort it out you won’t live to see your grandchildren and he didn’t. He wasn’t here to see my son being born. That kills me every day. I will never ever get over that he wasn’t here and isn’t here.

Some people believe that once something happens you follow a pattern. That there is a trigger point in your life which leads you to making the same decisions. Maybe I’ve ended up with an addict because I’m searching for my Dad? Or maybe it’s all I know? I’m not sure.

I just hope I’m making my Dad proud…