Skip to main content

Asshole.

So, it's been a weird month for me.  I had some childhood stuff rear its ugly head through a trigger I didn't even know existed.  It manifested in a few weeks of bulimia and smoking, a lot of feeling miserable, one long and involved unaired blog post, and a few very honest conversations with various family members.  I've kicked the bulimia (for now), haven't quite managed to give up the smokes, but have started some positive behaviours by attending a boot camp twice a week and running a couple of times a week with a friend or by myself (with Dude in the pushchair of course).

As part of my attempt at a fresh start, I attempted a conversation with another family member that has been estranged for a while.  Bad idea.  See, I'm an asshole.

So let me just put this out there.  I embrace the asshole-dom.  Pretty much every bad thing I had to live through in my life came from people not having the difficult conversations.  It wasn't "their business" to talk about it, or they didn't know about it in the first place because NOBODY TALKS ABOUT THE BAD STUFF.  So I talk about the bad stuff.  For instance, if you lie to me and then tell the whole family that you don't know why I'm mad at you, or in fact give them a totally fictitious version of what happened, I'm not going to take out an ad in the local paper trashing you to all and sundry, but if somebody asks I'm bloody well going to tell them the truth.  If that creates fallout for you, you shouldn't have lied in the first place.

I'm really regretting having attempted the conversation in the first place, as I honestly thought that having a frank exchange would start a positive upswing in this particular relationship.  Turns out she's one of the "we don't talk about that" crowd.  I got told that we don't have the kind of relationship where I can talk about the deep stuff with her.  Disappointing especially given how close we used to be.  And, of course, writing this is going to put the final nail in that coffin.  Again, I'm an asshole.

At this point in my life, I just don't have the energy or the interest to deal with people who aren't good for me.  If that means that there's a good portion of my family that's not really a part of my life, that's okay.  I have a pretty sweet life here, with family and friends around me that value me for who and what I am.  I have a three year old who tells me "it's not time for fashion" when I attempt to make her shop for clothes.  I have a 22mo weirdo son who runs around trashing the place and shouting "ta-daaaah!" when he's created chaos.  I have a husband who puts up with my dark times and doesn't say a word when I leave him home with the brats while I purge my demons through sweat.

It's not all good just yet, but it's damned well going to be.  Because I'm one determined asshole.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Updates all around.

So, we've had our UK baby shower. Saturday just gone we had a houseful of people, same setup as our normal Thanksgiving arrangements, just different food. Rather than mash and mac'n'cheese, I did finger foods and pink desserts. If you need a seriously decadent and delicious lemon bar recipe, let me know, I found one on Pinterest a few weeks ago for Strawberry Lemonade Bars that I used for the party, and they are truly droolworthy. We were gifted a truly random assortment of bits. Some people used the list we registered for, some people went with gifts that meant something to them personally (like a replica of a childhood bunny from one particular friend), and some went with "pamper the mother-to-be" options. Then, of course, there was Darth Bunny. That's right, Darth Bunny. See below. It was a good day. Himself's best mate from childhood came up from Essex with his new wife to stay the weekend, there was at least one representative from every offic...

Thanks.

So, right now I should be baking four pies, a few dozen cookies, a carrot cake, and some dinner rolls. That's before prepping all the meat and veg for tomorrow's yearly Thanksgiving bash at ours. What am I doing instead? I'm watching my daughter throw puzzle pieces around the room and cast her eyes around for the next household item to destroy. And enjoying every second of it. It's not like we had a near-death experience last night, but a trip to A&E was close enough to suit me. She's totally fine, she just slept really fitfully, I realised she was burning up, and then she had a weird little episode where she wouldn't look at Himself or me which prompted me to jump in the shower with her, still in my pj's, trying to get her temp down. When that didn't work, the panicky mother in me had us all in the car on the way to the hospital. They checked her ears and throat (and the tongue depressor made her lose everything she'd eaten in the last ...

Life as we know it.

It's been a crazy couple of months. We found out that New Kid has junk, which Himself is very smug about. I got food poisoning for the second time this pregnancy on Easter Sunday, which lasted for a week instead of the usual few days. That's the fun of my body protecting New Kid instead of focusing on healing itself. By the end (after a night in the ER on IV fluids and anti-nausea meds) I wished he could have gotten a slight case just so he'd feel too bad to keep trying to kick his way out from the inside. Bratface spent that week hanging out with her Nannie (Himself's mum was here for the week, coincidentally) and then spent the next two weeks getting re-accustomed to rules and the world not always revolving around herself. She didn't appreciate the lesson. Himself turned 33 this week. We didn't do presents for him, the man wants for nothing save sleep (and short of resorting to Benadryl, Madam isn't helping with matters), so we made him a cake. I...