The energies around me are shifting to places that I cannot interpret anymore. Someone threw out the instruction manual of my life and all I can rely on these days is change and the knowledge that anything can happen in an instant and bring severe circumstances with it, and you have to roll with the punches and try to survive. The days of working a decent nine to five and earning money to get by seem strangely easy, blissful even, in comparison.
My friend T was a victim of internet fraud today, a month before she would finally be paid for the first time in ages, after being unemployed for a while. She is devastated, in shock.
Had an uncontrollable urge to download the Jersey Boys album of Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons, especially the song ‘Who Loves you’. It must be from a past life, it brings back incredibly deep feelings of bliss and joy that are indescribable. So this show is on at the West End at the moment and seems to have rave reviews. Really want to see it. It is the story of the lives of the group members and their times in the sixties and seventies amongst Italian American mafia style situations and that working class New York, passionate lifestyle again. What energy, I wish I had that energy, that passion cursing through my veins right now, or ever. And the men were gorgeous and so romantic and real, enough to make you infatuated, unlike here and now. They had drive and chutzpah. FV looks like Al Pacino. Need I say anymore?
Thursday, 20 March 2008
Wednesday, 12 March 2008
Abuse Part 2
Sometimes I wish I could just get cancer and know that there is a certain end in sight. Right now I feel like the living dead. Correction, death would be easier. Living is hell. Even in my darkest of dark days back home I always knew I could go back to my parents.
Right now I feel like I am being forced to endure a slow death with no option for a fast one. Every day I stand on the border of facing the possibility of having to put the place on the market and hope for the best, and every day closer to that I have less and less money. Had I done it sooner, I would be in a less crap situation but relying on FW is as usual always to my detriment.
I feel very weak today, I don't even have the energy to feel sad anymore. Just emptiness. I think FW would be happy if I suddenly died (and left a hefty insurance payout for him). It would solve all his problems. Then he could go out and meet the 101 women he keeps mentioning that are interested. The truth is, if he would just leave, I could move on with my life. But he remains here, ostensibly in a relationship that is clearly gone, ostensibly fairly contributing, ostensibly helping me but he is only using me to get his way as usual.
I will not deny that FW contributes a fair share to the expenses, especially now, but what really pisses me off is that I contributed so much more when I was working and even his increased contributions can't even things out now, and he dares to insist that he is 'keeping' me now, does that mean that I was keeping him when I was working?
I calculated today that compared to all the contributions FW has made since he moved in here he has actually only paid 28% of the total expenses for the flat over the last 17 months. When I footed the majority of the expenses, I did not go around telling everyone that he lived in my flat and that I covered most of the bills or in any way make him look small to his friends or family. Now he insists that people find it very generous of him to be 'keeping' me. That they think I have it all. And based on his character he he must be spinning some very embellished stories to all concerned.
Last year when the plan was for me to stop work and be at home until we managed to (as a partnership) get a working visa for me, I did not expect to be the victim of psychological abuse derived mainly from alcohol abuse on his part. As a result I did not pursue a visa on the basis of my relationship with him. That was not expected. He said he would support me when I left work. And when we had the conversation in January, he said he was ashamed and let me down and that he would do anything he could to make up for it, including paying my rent if I moved elsewhere while he covered the rest of the bills whether by buying my flat or not. He even offered to get a loan to pay me for the furniture so that I would have some funds to complete my qualification, so that even though my stay here with him has been traumatic and messed up my chances of getting a visa, I would still have some validation, that he could salvage something.
Seems like all talk now. Now he says he only agreed to help out for a little while. Suddenly all apparent remorse was bullshit. Suddenly he wants to hold the cards and fuck me over, again. I feel more inspired now to pursue the domestic abuse case, as FW feels he can get away with everything. I am so sick and tired of it all.
Today he insists he pays me x amount of money a month, what an absolute load of bullshit, I have my bank statements to prove that is not the case, and he says we are finished. When were we not finished and more realistically, when is he going to be finished enough to just leave me alone and piss off? I dont even care about the money now, I am just angry that yet again, when I was on the brink of throwing him out in January, he manufactured these white lies to passify me and let him stay, he didn't even mean a single word. I still have the texts to prove how apparently sorry he was. If anything that is a sure indicator of the kind of liar he is.
And he always creates an argument out of absolutely nothing, especially when the lounge door is open so that all the neighbours can hear and he provokes me just to the point of yelling, which I think is exactly what he wants, because after that, after he carefully says exactly what he knows will piss me off, he resorts to 'I dont want to argue now'. How fucking marvellous. He argues until: he realises he is wrong/can't defend himself anymore/I am angry/the neighbours are listening and this alone satisfies the sadistic fuckwit.
I cant wait to get this all over with.
Right now I feel like I am being forced to endure a slow death with no option for a fast one. Every day I stand on the border of facing the possibility of having to put the place on the market and hope for the best, and every day closer to that I have less and less money. Had I done it sooner, I would be in a less crap situation but relying on FW is as usual always to my detriment.
I feel very weak today, I don't even have the energy to feel sad anymore. Just emptiness. I think FW would be happy if I suddenly died (and left a hefty insurance payout for him). It would solve all his problems. Then he could go out and meet the 101 women he keeps mentioning that are interested. The truth is, if he would just leave, I could move on with my life. But he remains here, ostensibly in a relationship that is clearly gone, ostensibly fairly contributing, ostensibly helping me but he is only using me to get his way as usual.
I will not deny that FW contributes a fair share to the expenses, especially now, but what really pisses me off is that I contributed so much more when I was working and even his increased contributions can't even things out now, and he dares to insist that he is 'keeping' me now, does that mean that I was keeping him when I was working?
I calculated today that compared to all the contributions FW has made since he moved in here he has actually only paid 28% of the total expenses for the flat over the last 17 months. When I footed the majority of the expenses, I did not go around telling everyone that he lived in my flat and that I covered most of the bills or in any way make him look small to his friends or family. Now he insists that people find it very generous of him to be 'keeping' me. That they think I have it all. And based on his character he he must be spinning some very embellished stories to all concerned.
Last year when the plan was for me to stop work and be at home until we managed to (as a partnership) get a working visa for me, I did not expect to be the victim of psychological abuse derived mainly from alcohol abuse on his part. As a result I did not pursue a visa on the basis of my relationship with him. That was not expected. He said he would support me when I left work. And when we had the conversation in January, he said he was ashamed and let me down and that he would do anything he could to make up for it, including paying my rent if I moved elsewhere while he covered the rest of the bills whether by buying my flat or not. He even offered to get a loan to pay me for the furniture so that I would have some funds to complete my qualification, so that even though my stay here with him has been traumatic and messed up my chances of getting a visa, I would still have some validation, that he could salvage something.
Seems like all talk now. Now he says he only agreed to help out for a little while. Suddenly all apparent remorse was bullshit. Suddenly he wants to hold the cards and fuck me over, again. I feel more inspired now to pursue the domestic abuse case, as FW feels he can get away with everything. I am so sick and tired of it all.
Today he insists he pays me x amount of money a month, what an absolute load of bullshit, I have my bank statements to prove that is not the case, and he says we are finished. When were we not finished and more realistically, when is he going to be finished enough to just leave me alone and piss off? I dont even care about the money now, I am just angry that yet again, when I was on the brink of throwing him out in January, he manufactured these white lies to passify me and let him stay, he didn't even mean a single word. I still have the texts to prove how apparently sorry he was. If anything that is a sure indicator of the kind of liar he is.
And he always creates an argument out of absolutely nothing, especially when the lounge door is open so that all the neighbours can hear and he provokes me just to the point of yelling, which I think is exactly what he wants, because after that, after he carefully says exactly what he knows will piss me off, he resorts to 'I dont want to argue now'. How fucking marvellous. He argues until: he realises he is wrong/can't defend himself anymore/I am angry/the neighbours are listening and this alone satisfies the sadistic fuckwit.
I cant wait to get this all over with.
Tuesday, 11 March 2008
Autumn Leaves
The light at the end of the tunnel is still there, but now I'm beginning to imagine all sorts of sabotage to the light when I actually approach it.
I've given up internet dating for good. It damages your soul in the long term. Especially if you're a serial first-dater. The good old fashioned meet-them-first is so underrated today. Period.
I've given up internet dating for good. It damages your soul in the long term. Especially if you're a serial first-dater. The good old fashioned meet-them-first is so underrated today. Period.
Sunday, 9 March 2008
Tears
Friday night for the first time in a long time, I shed a few tears. After a year of emotional numbness, coupled with repetitive catharses (which sadly no one noticed as being shockingly abnormal as they were), I found myself back to – I sincerely hope- a sense of normal crying. The kind of crying, where you realise you are tearing and it isn’t coupled with an enormous, uncontrollable gushing urge to just bawl, shudder and let it all out like I have been doing over this last year.
I’m not even sure why I was crying, or why I felt so emotionally raw and open for the first time since about 2001. I half hoped that it would be the beginning of finding my lost emotional self again.
Today I am sad. Sad for playing out a life in which I choose not to go out and have fun, because it is better than feeling insulted and ignored by FW (which normally happens when we go out). I have a few personal invitations, consistently, but as much as he says go out, he always re-aligns the situation with a patronising set of questions, suggestions and behaviour that makes him look like a parent allowing a child to go out, but only under certain circumstances. And I feel uncomfortable enough to sometimes withdraw. No doubt this is his tact, to control.
I feel so trapped here. As much as this flat reflects my choice in property and my tastes in some of the decor, it is not my home. FW has dominated and even though it goes unspoken, there are things that are done his way or not at all. I have chosen for the sake of my mental balance and to keep the peace to accept them but they generally keep me in a constant state of disorientation and therefore discomfort.
Like the TV. He always has the TV on. It’s on as soon as he walks through the door and all night and quite often all our waking hours of the weekend, and let me tell you, BBC with no sky is mind numbingly boring. That’s worth repeating, it is MIND NUMBINGLY BORING. Any form of music is no competition and he complains if my music is on for too long.
When I was younger I used to joke with my friends that we were the sort who had the TV on in the background, with the sound switched off, and the stereo playing music instead. I really love playing music. Apart from calming me, it also lifts my spirits and puts me in a good mood. For as long as I can remember, a lounge to me has been a place to relax, very often with appropriate music in the background, it was who we were and who I still am. Now I have to, along with everything else that has been stolen from my life, give up the sense of calm and relaxation that I have always been used to.
I’m suddenly not surprised I had a mental breakdown last year, with everything else going on and not a moment to relax, I couldn’t take it anymore.
And the mortgage is dragging on and on. I don’t know whether it’s because FW is being unreasonable with the mortgage company or whether there is indeed a delay. The last time he applied for a mortgage, he ended up losing £500 worth of the deposit fee on the property, after I advised him to get the offer in principal first, but of course he never listens to me. This time he happens to be squealing about £200 pounds worth of admin fee that may secure the mortgage offer and wrap it up. And he seems to be making an issue out of the prolonged life cover, which I know from experience is not a major factor in the mortgage itself, it can certainly be concluded after the mortgage. He seems to have a very incorrect view as to who to remain professional to and who not to. So many times he has been unconditionally considerate and professional to those that have absolutely no bearing on the particular business at hand, and now he has crossed a professional line with his mortgage advisors, which cannot bode well for him. Perhaps he chose so to ensure the end of this connection.
I think FW is just prolonging this because it gives him an opportunity to continue living here while he drags this mortgage out - of course to my detriment. In January when we had that final conversation about his attitude, he said he was so remorseful that he had taken so much of my life away and that he wanted to make up by even offering to pay my living expenses while he bought the flat. I knew it was all talk. Now he doesn’t even contribute what he promised towards the mortgage because he says he didn’t agree for me to be unemployed for this long! So I have to deal with hell or high water trying to scrape up from anywhere just to cover the shortfall, and he has no conscience, and through this all he won’t ever stop the payments for say, the car he bought for his Goddaughter, who conversely has all the support of his family while I am here alone and used. I am always the sacrificial lamb in his life.
I believe the only way to resolve this is to get authorities involved to vacate this property and put it on the market, so that I will finally get the cash I need to move on. It may not be the best outcome, but it will give me the opportunity to get back on track again.
I’m not even sure why I was crying, or why I felt so emotionally raw and open for the first time since about 2001. I half hoped that it would be the beginning of finding my lost emotional self again.
Today I am sad. Sad for playing out a life in which I choose not to go out and have fun, because it is better than feeling insulted and ignored by FW (which normally happens when we go out). I have a few personal invitations, consistently, but as much as he says go out, he always re-aligns the situation with a patronising set of questions, suggestions and behaviour that makes him look like a parent allowing a child to go out, but only under certain circumstances. And I feel uncomfortable enough to sometimes withdraw. No doubt this is his tact, to control.
I feel so trapped here. As much as this flat reflects my choice in property and my tastes in some of the decor, it is not my home. FW has dominated and even though it goes unspoken, there are things that are done his way or not at all. I have chosen for the sake of my mental balance and to keep the peace to accept them but they generally keep me in a constant state of disorientation and therefore discomfort.
Like the TV. He always has the TV on. It’s on as soon as he walks through the door and all night and quite often all our waking hours of the weekend, and let me tell you, BBC with no sky is mind numbingly boring. That’s worth repeating, it is MIND NUMBINGLY BORING. Any form of music is no competition and he complains if my music is on for too long.
When I was younger I used to joke with my friends that we were the sort who had the TV on in the background, with the sound switched off, and the stereo playing music instead. I really love playing music. Apart from calming me, it also lifts my spirits and puts me in a good mood. For as long as I can remember, a lounge to me has been a place to relax, very often with appropriate music in the background, it was who we were and who I still am. Now I have to, along with everything else that has been stolen from my life, give up the sense of calm and relaxation that I have always been used to.
I’m suddenly not surprised I had a mental breakdown last year, with everything else going on and not a moment to relax, I couldn’t take it anymore.
And the mortgage is dragging on and on. I don’t know whether it’s because FW is being unreasonable with the mortgage company or whether there is indeed a delay. The last time he applied for a mortgage, he ended up losing £500 worth of the deposit fee on the property, after I advised him to get the offer in principal first, but of course he never listens to me. This time he happens to be squealing about £200 pounds worth of admin fee that may secure the mortgage offer and wrap it up. And he seems to be making an issue out of the prolonged life cover, which I know from experience is not a major factor in the mortgage itself, it can certainly be concluded after the mortgage. He seems to have a very incorrect view as to who to remain professional to and who not to. So many times he has been unconditionally considerate and professional to those that have absolutely no bearing on the particular business at hand, and now he has crossed a professional line with his mortgage advisors, which cannot bode well for him. Perhaps he chose so to ensure the end of this connection.
I think FW is just prolonging this because it gives him an opportunity to continue living here while he drags this mortgage out - of course to my detriment. In January when we had that final conversation about his attitude, he said he was so remorseful that he had taken so much of my life away and that he wanted to make up by even offering to pay my living expenses while he bought the flat. I knew it was all talk. Now he doesn’t even contribute what he promised towards the mortgage because he says he didn’t agree for me to be unemployed for this long! So I have to deal with hell or high water trying to scrape up from anywhere just to cover the shortfall, and he has no conscience, and through this all he won’t ever stop the payments for say, the car he bought for his Goddaughter, who conversely has all the support of his family while I am here alone and used. I am always the sacrificial lamb in his life.
I believe the only way to resolve this is to get authorities involved to vacate this property and put it on the market, so that I will finally get the cash I need to move on. It may not be the best outcome, but it will give me the opportunity to get back on track again.
Attitude is Everything
I really can’t understand how an island, with a substantially large immigrant work force (menial and commercial labour), which relies mainly on imports, can be more economically efficient than a self-sufficient country with similar population levels and about 3 times the size.
Yes, I realise the labour issue back south can cause a bit of a problem, as well as geography, but the country certainly has the means by far to train the masses to be economically contributing and certainly that should have already started making an impact.
What I believe is missing back south, or not part of the patriotism of the country, is the assumption that it is a great nation, and that reflection being present in every aspect. Poor publicity of government officials doesn’t help matters ether. There is such potential to pull it together and create, firstly the impression of a first world country beyond a doubt and secondly to fulfil this by using the labour force efficiently. The technology in the more first-world sector is comparable if not superior to other first world countries. The commercial sector operates on a super-efficient level compared to some global powers.
The follies and wrong doing of first world leaders, are today, just as ridiculous as that of the third world leaders. So in a greater sense, who can really point a finger?
I am slowly beginning to realise that attitude makes all the difference. And there is a lot of it present in third world countries, but it needs to be visible.
Yes, I realise the labour issue back south can cause a bit of a problem, as well as geography, but the country certainly has the means by far to train the masses to be economically contributing and certainly that should have already started making an impact.
What I believe is missing back south, or not part of the patriotism of the country, is the assumption that it is a great nation, and that reflection being present in every aspect. Poor publicity of government officials doesn’t help matters ether. There is such potential to pull it together and create, firstly the impression of a first world country beyond a doubt and secondly to fulfil this by using the labour force efficiently. The technology in the more first-world sector is comparable if not superior to other first world countries. The commercial sector operates on a super-efficient level compared to some global powers.
The follies and wrong doing of first world leaders, are today, just as ridiculous as that of the third world leaders. So in a greater sense, who can really point a finger?
I am slowly beginning to realise that attitude makes all the difference. And there is a lot of it present in third world countries, but it needs to be visible.
Wednesday, 5 March 2008
Yet another annoying FW moment
I woke up this morning to an unfortunate striking drop in temperature from last night, and had a very achy ice-cold head, along with headache and what felt like the chill. After turning on the heaters and having a long hot bath, chicken soup, loads of vitamins and relevant pills and fluids, I think I finally started to recover. I am determined to attend every lesson of my very expensive course tuition.
So true to form, sometime this evening, after pulling my sleepy self off the couch to make a casserole on demand from FW, I discover that he opened my bedroom window and the entire hallway, and both bedrooms were freezing. I figured it may have been while he was on the treadmill, which he usually does and was a bit confused as I don’t remember him being on the treadmill, but the room smelt frozenly-fresh so I closed the window and turned on the heating. FW bitched and moaned deeply. He was apparently preparing the room for the run! What a complete jerk, is all I can say. The man should have been born of a different gender, but he will never admit it.
So true to form, sometime this evening, after pulling my sleepy self off the couch to make a casserole on demand from FW, I discover that he opened my bedroom window and the entire hallway, and both bedrooms were freezing. I figured it may have been while he was on the treadmill, which he usually does and was a bit confused as I don’t remember him being on the treadmill, but the room smelt frozenly-fresh so I closed the window and turned on the heating. FW bitched and moaned deeply. He was apparently preparing the room for the run! What a complete jerk, is all I can say. The man should have been born of a different gender, but he will never admit it.
Tuesday, 4 March 2008
Daily irritations and child abuse
Things that have happened to me on the last few days:
· I started college yesterday. I had to plan so many aspects to begin smoothly it was unbelievable. Like the admin involved in combining three oyster cards into one, online. Finding a place that could replace my watch battery (which is now up and running yay!!). Washing knapsacks and making sure they are suitable for use. Tailoring pairs of new jeans and getting a wardrobe together. Addresses, directions, methods of transport. And finally the induction day when all should finally come together for the start. It wasn’t so bad but then I arrived home and realised I got given 2 wrong sets of books (which were an absolute pain to carry, they were so heavy) and this morning I had to schedule in extra time to swop one set, the other will have to wait till Thursday – too heavy. Almost got late this morning with a transport issue and am exhausted, but ok.
· Queuing for tickets on weekday mornings is a mission. There are always potentially late trains and a massive queue with people that have their fingers up their rear, and of course incompetent staff. So today and from now on I have decided to buy my tickets in advance. Something I would have gladly done ages ago had I known you could (because on some forms of transport at some stage you couldn’t so...). So I was happily heading off for the tickets this afternoon, after catching a bus that was right there when I wanted it and then a train right on time, that ended up getting me to my station much sooner, when I encountered a situation with a an idiot-male-of-this-area species. He just bluddy stood in front of me in the queue. So I said to him, ‘excuse me but I’m in the queue’ and his response was, ‘so?’!!! I tell you, it explains why there is so much common violence around here. Idiots. I managed to go to the next available teller because I absolutely just did.
· I was really sick and disturbed to see this report of child abuse. It makes me so outraged and lost. I cannot imagine how anyone could think of torturing poor young helpless kids like this. Shocking and disgusting. And Britain should very seriously stop turning a blind eye.
http://www.digitaljournal.com/article/251098/Jersey_Child_Abuse_Cellar_Discovered_By_Police
· I started college yesterday. I had to plan so many aspects to begin smoothly it was unbelievable. Like the admin involved in combining three oyster cards into one, online. Finding a place that could replace my watch battery (which is now up and running yay!!). Washing knapsacks and making sure they are suitable for use. Tailoring pairs of new jeans and getting a wardrobe together. Addresses, directions, methods of transport. And finally the induction day when all should finally come together for the start. It wasn’t so bad but then I arrived home and realised I got given 2 wrong sets of books (which were an absolute pain to carry, they were so heavy) and this morning I had to schedule in extra time to swop one set, the other will have to wait till Thursday – too heavy. Almost got late this morning with a transport issue and am exhausted, but ok.
· Queuing for tickets on weekday mornings is a mission. There are always potentially late trains and a massive queue with people that have their fingers up their rear, and of course incompetent staff. So today and from now on I have decided to buy my tickets in advance. Something I would have gladly done ages ago had I known you could (because on some forms of transport at some stage you couldn’t so...). So I was happily heading off for the tickets this afternoon, after catching a bus that was right there when I wanted it and then a train right on time, that ended up getting me to my station much sooner, when I encountered a situation with a an idiot-male-of-this-area species. He just bluddy stood in front of me in the queue. So I said to him, ‘excuse me but I’m in the queue’ and his response was, ‘so?’!!! I tell you, it explains why there is so much common violence around here. Idiots. I managed to go to the next available teller because I absolutely just did.
· I was really sick and disturbed to see this report of child abuse. It makes me so outraged and lost. I cannot imagine how anyone could think of torturing poor young helpless kids like this. Shocking and disgusting. And Britain should very seriously stop turning a blind eye.
http://www.digitaljournal.com/article/251098/Jersey_Child_Abuse_Cellar_Discovered_By_Police
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