Some of my musings!

I feel trapped by circumstances which have shaped my life and career path since as far back as I can remember. I have never overtly rebelled against my parents, until now. They laughingly believe they haven’t forced me into anything and scoff at people whose children, in their opinion, have either been forced to do things or left to run wild. It has never occurred to them that they called the au pair agency and put me on the plane to France at 18. They were the ones who picked me up in Cardiff and arranged my work placement in London at the House of Commons and they were the ones who were insistent on giving me the cash to buy a flat so that I would get on the housing ladder. All these things were masterminded by them. I was distraught at not getting my A’level grades to do law and simply went along with their grand plan to go to France. The terror I felt remains with me today and it’s no lie that whilst being outside your comfort zone is a good thing, my year in Nancy was extremely traumatic. Losing a friend to meningitis and watching a family being domestically abused by the husband/father isn’t exactly a fun way to spend a year abroad!

I cried buckets when they drove me from my beloved Cardiff to go to London. They were insistent that I do it and again, the anxiety I felt for the first few months was immense. I left behind a boyfriend, friends, my beloved aunt and uncle and the first feeling of roots that I had ever had.

The flat too was there idea. Renting had never bothered me, but it did them. They then took hold of all the redecoration and did everything as they saw fit, irrespective of my desires. When I told them I didn’t want my dad and brother to do my kitchen and bathroom as I would use redundancy money instead, I was accused of being ungrateful.

So who’s to blame? Me, basically, I let them apron strings wrap around me and then refused to get out even when the warning bells were sounding. It was always easier to give in, ignore my mother’s outrageous outbursts and refuse to make a stance against their behaviour. I have no one to blame by myself and pretending otherwise would stop me making any changes. Being a victim is a choice. I have friends battling serious illnesses, coping with job losses and many other major life events and if they gave in and chose to be put upon, they would be giving up. I am not about to do that and if the path ahead is long and bumpy, the beautiful wooded scene at the end of it will be worth every minute of struggle.

The rot set in early, though – most specifically when I was berated as a child for not being sociable enough and forced to be outgoing and (in their opinion) friendly. They always had a massive issue with me being shy or (as they called it) ignorant. Fact was, I have never enjoyed socialising per se. There, I’ve said it. I now need to issue a series of disclaimers or risk losing a lot of friends!!!

As I get older and more at ease in my own skin, the necessity to be popular and busy has pretty much disappeared. I craved popularity when I was at school in order to please my mother, yet was firmly stuck on the bottom rung of the list of people that others wanted to be friends with! It was made quite clear to me by my parents that the bullies only went for me because I made it ‘easy’ for them as I was bolshy, overweight and dreary with specs and a gothic dress sense. Nice! All the above offended my mother and she made it her mission to try to change the hard and unpleasant edges.

I went on to university and discovered you could be yourself there and not please everyone, which was liberating in one sense but conflictual in another. I happily discarded friends from there who I felt didn’t actually fit with me and my ethics/ideals, rather than making things fit and compromising myself as I had done at school. But in my parent’s eyes that made me argumentative and marginal – they never approved of this and made it clear that I should be making friends with the right people rather than picking and choosing the ones I actually liked!!! In their world view it was all about networking and who you knew – you don’t dine with people who make you laugh or challenge your thinking. No, you choose people who were high up in the rugby club/golf club/Masons etc and if you don’t like them much, never mind as you can always slag ‘em off later!!!

I have always hated professional networking events, weddings, parties, large dinner parties, reunions, you know the sort of thing, anywhere basically where I had to mingle with strangers/acquaintances and make the dreaded small talk. I have excused myself from many but have equally attended a large number that I had no hope of getting out of. I have usually made a good fist of it and done my best to have a pleasant time; that said, getting drunk was always a great way of coping (not!) because oblivion made the chat much less painful! I’ve tried not to be a curmudgeon and have always gone to things with the right head on. Fact is, even then, I am always, without exception, relieved to exit and head to bed/home. Socialising wears me out – I have probably got a certain time limit, at which point any more is painful! It’s not that I don’t enjoy the company of friends, I have some fantastic ones, but I really do prefer to see them one on one (well, max two together!) Beyond that and I get prickly. It’s just me. It’s not about being rude or arrogant or superior but I am happy communicating with one person at a time. Even then, I still like to spread it out and see no more than 2 people a week. Any more and I start to feel vexed at the prospect of meeting up. Basically, I know my limits, I try to stick to them and will always go to events that matter to other people, who in turn treat my desire not to have a wedding party with respect. I love them and all their differences and I hope they love me and mine!!!

Made it!

Yip, 3 months of sobriety has just passed me by and I am starting my fourth with renewed vigour and gusto. K and I went for a walk yesterday to Severndroog Castle (which is about 45 mins from my house and was featured on Griff Rhys Jones' Restoration thingy, yet I have never been there before in 5 years...).

Anyhow, the photo is moi in front of the folly and is a fair indicator of how much happier and healthier I am at this juncture than I was 3 months back. True, I have way more on my plate to worry about, but had the last 3 months been soaked by booze, who knows what would have happened. I made it and am embarking on a brand new chapter of my life this week.

In short, I've handed in my notice at work, with the proviso that I get a month's salary if I hop off next week. I've started touting my ass round the agencies with the hope of getting a permanent role as and when the right thing comes along and some temping in the meantime. I am taking August off to do home stuff and relax and contemplate my naval a bit and save money and start running in earnest again and, and...it will fly by but I am determined to use this month constructively and get some focus.

K is back to Southampton tomorrow but we have at least had 4 blissful days together so who am I to complain about getting my wee space back to myself again! Am sure I will be cussing the world again by Friday but for now, all's well in my world and I am ready for the challenges ahead.

Feel the fear!

I am a victim of my own self esteem. It’s me that keeps me down. I keep having ideas and thoughts and think about putting them into practice, then I back off in fear. Fear of failing, fear of people laughing at me, fear of people saying told you so and fear of being a success and then having to maintain it.

I was watching some of those ‘no going back/new life abroad’ programmes at the weekend – which I agree, is nothing to be proud of but whilst high-brow boyfriend is away, I can’t get enough of a trashy fix!! Anyway, what this taught me was that you have to be brave – very brave – with your life choices. You can’t expect the dream job to land in your lap, your relationship to be perfect and life’s little obstacles to magically disappear. Basically, if I want something I have to think about how I am gonna get it and then start making progress bit by bit. I think I can safely confess to having never planned anything in my life. I sort of sit and wait for things to happen to me and then baulk at the stress. If I decided to embrace my life and make of it what I want, things would be very different.

However, giving up drink has proven that I am not a quitter – I really can do something day by day, step by step and with a clear sense of progress being made. I am capable of changing radically and achieving something great. This time I’m not second best, as I’ve achieved the ultimate goal which was to manage to stay sober and if that’s possible, hell knows what else I could achieve!

This weekend marks the 3 month milestone and I shall celebrate it with K. He’s back for a few days and I simply CAN NOT WAIT! God, have I missed him. It’s nearly our 2 year anniversary too, so, as we won’t be going to Paris now to celebrate because of circumstances (financial and with regard to his dad) we shall at least mark it with some quality time this weekend, starting with a gig tomorrow night.

Grrrr. Get outta my way!!

Is it me or is the fire in my belly that signals rage an alarming sign that living a life anaesthetised by alcohol is in fact much safer than one where emotions are allowed to emerge! Perhaps this is the explanation for the British habit of binge drinking - we wrongly assume that it’s better not to feel the feeling than experience the head rush it ultimately brings. Inebriation keeps more of us out of trouble than in!

Of course, this doesn’t allow for the rage of a drunkard. It’s clear that alcohol can make some people more aggressive than when they are sober. For many though, alcohol suppresses their fury. That said, I can remember clearly one customer in the pub where I worked as a teenager, who could not be served a strong bitter as it sent him completely off the rails. On a normal strength bitter, he was a pussy cat, but 2-3 pints of Bass and the pool cues were in danger of becoming lethal weapons. Ha ha. Not so funny if you were at the receving end, but no need to source a pub singer or a karaoke machine with Scoff around!

However, the majority of people are more apt to become your best friend/maudlin/excitable once their consumption has exceeded the government guidelines and in my case (unlike my mother, who is one of the aggressive drunk types) I was usually sweet, sleepy and clumsy. For some reason, gin made me exceptionally tearful but nothing made me want to punch walls.

Boy how sobriety has unfettered my restraint! I am actually aware of it, which is scary because I know when my tone of voice is sharp, if my look could have just slain them or the insistence with which I put my point across has become uncomfortable for the other party. Yet I can’t stop myself. It’s as if the urge to be honest and to the point is too great, lest I be untruthful to myself. I would rather have a damn good ding dong or cut someone down to size, than walk away or back down.

So what’s eating me? I think it’s a general malaise, really. Times are tough and when I am already less than enamoured with my lot, being surrounded by bosses who are currently fucked off to high heaven and a partner who has a dying father and another job loss to deal with, what’s there left to be happy about, eh?

So back to one of my earlier resolutions. I need to be thankful again. So I am grateful for:

- Being loved. I’ve spent enough of my life questioning whether or not I was loved, be it by friends, family or boyfriends. My K may have his moments, but I know he loves me as deeply as I do him and that is one of the greatest feelings I can think of;
- Being healthy. Tomorrow I really, truly am going on a major health kick. More on that tomorrow, but the fact is I can and I will. I’d like to capitalise on my strong foundation and be the best that I can.
- Being employable! OK – I may have to work hard to find my next role and I may even have to take the plunge and do something completely different, but, at the end of the day, good will out and I will find my niche. I can feel it in my bones!

Anyhow, more tomorrow as I am actually a bit busy work-wise this week. But I have plans and I shall share them demain.

TGI Thursday!

Haven’t been in the mood to write much this week, as I have been busy actually dealing with stuff, if that makes any sense! Well, I suppose reflecting too much on things was giving me a headache so I decided to take some time out from my stressing and start being practical about my ‘situations’ instead. My friend S is the ideal sounding board when I am all a fluster, and after coffee with her, I felt ready to tackle the world again. I also had a really good catch-up on the phone with my friend A (she’s been away in Spain the past few weeks so I have missed her!!) and a couple of really good discussions with my soon to be sister-in-law. I am conscious that it is a shame that at times like these, I can’t really speak freely to my family (even the sympathetic ear of my aunt and brother could be judgemental) so I am all the more thankful that I have such an ace support network who have inspired to ‘keep calm and carry on!’

Have tomorrow off on my new regime, so am going to see my favourite recruitment contact now she’s back from hols. K may be back in Charlton too, though as usual, it all really depends on his father’s condition. Anyhow, am sure I will have plenty to add next week cos it’s never dull in my world!!!!

Toilet humour!

I am back! Had a wee break as the first 2 days of this week were pretty full on and stressful. For once it wasn’t my family causing my distress or, for that matter my job. It’s tedious and infuriating timing, but K’s had to leave the company he’s been with since end March. It’s a complicated story of him being on compassionate leave as their plans for expansion (which involved him) changed and the fact that in the current market, everyone is now expendable. I should know, having recently discovered this about my own role.

After the post mortem on Monday evening, K headed back down to Southampton on Tuesday morning. He is there now for the rest of the week. In many ways, it was the only solution, as K’s head has been with his dad for weeks now and it’s been impossible for him to concentrate or be fully present in the workplace. His dad has been slightly better (in relative terms) the last few days, although they have been well advised that his condition will deteriorate again sooner rather than later. Until the inevitable end, he can spend proper amounts of time down south and will be in a position to organise the funeral and house clearance without any demands from work.

The bollocks bit of it is that we are one salary down and with my pay cut, that’s not particularly funny. The other bit that annoys is that he has to add another chapter to his CV and will have to resolve this as soon as things are over where his dad is concerned. C’est la vie and all that but yeah, this has tested me I have to say.

Anyway, am now over the agony and moving on with the practicalities; budgeting like mad in other words! But the constant upside, and the one I continually remind myself is worth a fortune, is that I still haven’t hit the bottle as our precarious house of cards has teetered on the balance. I felt immense pressure on Monday of the ball juggling kind (they are all in the air right now and spinning madly) but I resisted a drink and could tackle stuff on Tuesday after a good sleep, with a clear head and a clear conscience.

Anyway, I am bored with my ramblings today – I sense that my blog makes me out to be miserable, stressed and anxious when that is far from the case, so in a return to one of my previous resolutions, I should like to tell you a wee story that made me chuckle yesterday.
As mentioned before, we moved last Wednesday from a plush, vast office on the 3rd floor of a splendid Georgian conversion with views across St James’s Park to a new ‘rabbit hutch’ style converted meeting room, in the basement of the same building. With the exception of a window that looks straight out onto a brick wall, we are now housed in an airless box (albeit one with top notch fixtures and fittings!). This does mean, however, that we have our door permanently propped open onto a communal corridor in order for some air to circulate and to alleviate the stress from the claustrophobia-inducing dimensions.

Our door happens to be opposite a loo/shower in the building, which is used by our fellow lessees on the ground floor as a ‘quiet’ one. Basically, they have their own facilities close to home, but this one is huge and well away from the masses. To say that at least one of them comes down with his newspaper of a morning tells you a little about its usage! The head of office services came to see us yesterday, highly embarrassed but obliged to tell us that she has had 3 separate complaints in as many days from people who think we must be peeping at them and observing their habits. That is fucking priceless. British reserve at its very, very best!!! I would just love to have seen the emails they sent her. How might they have gone, I wonder?

‘I would like to complain about the change of use of the room opposite the lower ground bathroom facilities. Since the new occupants have arrived, their door has been left constantly ajar, thus preventing me from having a discreet and private shit every morning whilst perusing the Daily Hate. Could you please request that they desist from monitoring my toilet habits and respect my right to use the shitter with impunity. Many thanks.
Keep on smiling!

Peace and forgiveness are beautiful things...

Lots of developments in my world right now, which for once is no bad thing! Yesterday was the sort of day when I remember that in general, people are not nice and helpful and the dog-eat-dog maxim rules supreme. Twas the office move and I spent from 08.15 to 17.30 moving 4 people from a huge office on the 3rd floor to a rabbit hutch in the basement. I kid you not that not one of them lifted a finger to assist as, being the office manager, that’s my job isn’t it? I have masterminded so many office moves in previous incarnations that in many respects, it wasn’t surprising. Their level of annoyance at having to log off for half an hour whilst IT did the server switch was to be expected as everyone is always manically busy the moment you need to log them off for a short time. The fact that they couldn’t even stomach taking their own desk stuff (pen pot, mousemat in-tray etc) downstairs themselves was again, nothing new. The barrage of complaints as soon as they change rooms: this chair’s crap, why are those boxes stacked there (because we now have 4 cupboards rather than 8, perchance?), the water’s warm (yip, I had to turn the machine off when I unplugged it to move it down 4 flights of stairs) my mobile reception keeps going (you’re in a fucking basement you moron) and I can smell damp (let me repeat, we are underground, in the cellar, yes it’s still Pall Mall but not as you know it!!) were all up there on my long list of ‘irritating complaints when you ask folk to change their environment’.

I was totally relieved to get out at 5.30 and head to my precious Jessica for acupuncture. She managed to decompress me after a day of winding myself up into a tight knot, so I was calm and composed when I got home and made the call to my brother as planned. It was all very revelatory and much like the one I had with my aunt earlier this week. Suffice to say that my brother and I exchanged all our news and discussed the parental situation. I put my point across and he also gave me more insights into what’s going on in their lives at the moment. We spent a good hour chatting and agreed that he would talk to them sometime soon to see if he could get some sense out of them and maybe my brother and I could then meet and start talking through a ‘peace plan’ of sorts. I have mixed feelings as I haven’t forgotten how little support he offered last year (at times he seemed to fan the flames) but we all make mistakes so am happy to let bygones be bygones if it means I can stop the harassment from my mum and dad. Also, as fickle as my brother is, he’s a decent chap and I’d much rather be friends with him than mortal enemies. Let the work commence!!!

Am off to Rye tomorrow (K’s on his way back this eve from Southampton to join me) and I simply can not wait. Much needed R&R after the last few weeks, nay months. Monday I will have to tackle the boredom of job searching and settling into our new cave-like office dwelling but am putting those thoughts firmly away until then!

Knock me down with a feather!

Lots of developments in my world, right now. After months of no progress, everything seems to be charging in a forward direction at once. In fact, am finding the speed at which things are moving quite frightening.

Just a week ago the family situation was at its lowest point and looked practically unsalvageable. Work was slow but nothing was being said and K’s dad was appearing to improve and almost looked to be on the mend, albeit temporarily. However, today it is an altogether vastly different scenario.

Workwise I have moved from possibly job-seeking to actively! It’s that gut feeling you get when a tide has turned and you are ready to move on mentally. We are moving offices this week so I’ve been doing my best snake impression scrabbling around floors undoing PCs and cleaning out cupboards with renewed zeal! Once we are newly housed in the basement, I am free to go whenever I am ready. My favourite search consultant is away this week but back next and ready to apply herself fully to my search. My bosses best friend who is also searching for me has so far been active enough to send me a job description or two, so I am busy planning interview outfits and considering the questions I am likely to get. Something like ‘so Ms McLeish, having worked for 8 companies in 12 years do you think your truly deserve the moniker of the Black Widow?’ How right one of my Telegraph bosses truly was, eh?

On another note things took a dramatic and massively positive swing upwards on the family front last night, much of which I can truly and honestly attribute to my sobriety. For the first time I can see how my decision to give up the drink has altered how my nearest and dearest perceive me – for better and for worse.

The upshot is that my father sent yet another threatening email to me yesterday evening at 6.30 with all sorts of mumbo jumbo about getting his money back and me resenting them etc. It was just so aggressive and repetitive that I forwarded the whole thing to my brother and said so much for trying to solve things, he’s really not prepared to listen. On my way home my brother emailed that he was livid with my dad and had just called him to say so and had really lost it with him. My bro had chosen to say nothing about us speaking later this week as he didn’t want to lose my trust. My father’s additional email had enraged him (having told dad he was sending me a message himself and to leave it for now) and he said we could discuss this more later this week. I was really surprised. The fact that my brother is finally seeing the truth of what they send me has been an eye opener for him. I know I have clung to possible developments before but this time, given my brother has no need to intervene unless he really does want it solved, I am quietly optimistic.

Anyway, his change of heart has been attributed to something in my last email, which is when I finally mentioned to my parents that their drunken ramblings and slanging matches couldn’t continue. My brother apparently found that the paragraph on that subject resonated with him. Am sure it has had the complete opposite effect on my parents, serving only to make them angrier, but my brother has definitely seen the positives.

By sheer coincidence, as I came through the door last night, my aunt called – firstly to explain that she was truly sorry that they couldn’t make the wedding and when she asked about stuff I just spilled my guts. She was shocked and stunned and incredibly supportive. Up until now I have done everything possible not to discuss it with her as I knew it put her in a tricky position. However, she had been totally unaware that my mother had been being so incredibly vile and was in full agreement that her behaviour in general over the years has been worryingly destructive. It was like opening the floodgates and we spoke for nearly 40 minutes. She was very pleased about my brother’s approach and we discussed all sorts, from the arguments she’d witnessed to the things she hadn’t. I explained that I had given up drinking as I had no desire to end up like my mother and she too, like my brother, was pleased. Both have not suggested before that I did, but both are equally pleased that I have. So I think, folks, that says it all. As the sober one I am the rational, credible one. Pitted against my mothers insane, vicious and drunken rants, I can only be more easily supported by other family members. I can thank the fact that I’ve started my 3rd month of total sobriety for some easing of the family feud. Hallelujah!

Anyhoo, have some cupboards to empty (ooh, the glamour of it) so more tomorrow if I can find the time. Let’s just say that I am more at ease now than I have been in a long, long time. And still dry to boot. Yay!!!!

Start the week...

The last few days have had more than their fair share of trials and tribulations! In amongst it all I had a fab day off on Friday just getting the flat straight, a lovely time in Reigate on Saturday with K’s family at my nephew’s 3rd birthday and K was back after 2 days away so there was some good stuff going on. Also, my brother has finally intervened in the family stuff and offered to broker some peace with my parents. Am not getting too excited, as I have been here before but I am willing to give it a shot and have promised to call him this week when I have time to chat to work something out.
That said, K’s dad is very sick now and K has offered to take time out from work for the last few weeks which is sad and also will hit us in a financial way. Hey ho – money is nothing compared to his loss so it’s best that we put that issue aside for the short term at least. My own job situation now needs resolved and it was no fun returning today after my first 4 day week. As I suspected, everything was waiting with an urgent flag on it and then things were dropped on me today with a ‘do it now’ tag attached (Metaphorically of course!) I can see that this is exactly how things would be were I to stay here part time so am now very much set on leaving properly rather than trying to fudge a compromise. Clean breaks benefit everyone much more than some sort of halfway house.

So am not writing much as I am hoping for a quieter day tomorrow instead to compose my thoughts. Still dry though and every day that goes past now feels like a bonus.

Bring it on!

The times they are a changing. Good old Bob Dylan, eh! Some weeks, when I get out of bed on a Monday, I have no possible idea how much shit is going to hit the fan as the days go by. Seriously, this week has been a corker. Every time I have told someone that my life’s pretty tough right now, they’ve decided to trump it and throw something else in to the mix! On Sunday I called my aunt and mentioned I’d had a pretty tough week. She said, well can I break some more bad news? Me and your uncle probably can’t come to your wedding. Great! Yip, the 2 people on my side that I am able to invite have an issue with their holiday date and will probably have to cry off.

On Monday I called my dad to tell him to call off the dogs (i.e. my mum) as K’s dad was unwell and we had enough on our plate. His response was to say, what, you think that’s bad, try this for size. We want our £20k back and we want it now…

My bosses meanwhile were aware that I had my fill of rubbish to deal with from my parents and that K needed all the support he could get. Their response? Suggest I find another job. Whoopee dee doopee dee do. Yip, 2 months of sitting doing nothing, imploring them to let me know what’s happening, and they choose to fess up that the company is likely to be wound up today of all days. Just after T, my main boss, got back from our little chat, K called to say he was dashing off to Southampton as his father had received his test results and he has untreatable lung cancer. The saying it never rains but it pours should be applied to me thrice over!!!

So that’s the bad stuff. The good stuff? I have drawn a line under my family once and for all which is good in the sense that I can sleep again. Bad in the sense that I hoped it would never reach this point but peace is better than false hope. If my aunt and uncle can’t make the wedding, it’s not the end of the world. They may feel compromised with my parents taking such a radical stance or they may genuinely have a problem. Either way, I’d rather know now than nearer the time. Work-wise I’ve got something concrete now to work with rather than sitting in limbo watching it all unravel in silence. I have asked to go down to a 4 day week and take a small pay cut whilst I job search. This was well received and as K and I are financially comfortable right now, it’s doable. I’ve already spoken to 2 key recruitment folk (one a good friend of my bosses) and thoroughly expect to find something else before long. It’s tough out there, but good assistants are always thin on the ground so if there is a job for me, I’ll nail it. They haven’t given me a deadline here and I have the summer months to search so I think I’ve found the silver linings – thin as they may be!!!!

Yesterday was a tough day whatever way you look at it, as it was the anniversary of K’s mum’s death 7 years ago. Never a good day for K and he also finds it tough as her death was in his pre-sobriety days. It made it all the more apparent to me how much being sober has helped me deal with whatever has been slung at me of late, without crumbling under the pressure. It’s been a rocky few months and I have already done my mental sums in terms of how many bottles would have been sunk over this period and how many hangovers I would have had if I’d still been on the booze! Both financially and physically, I am relieved that I am no longer imbibing and have not had the horror of the morning after for as long as I can now remember. The only time I was tempted to drink was after rowing with my dad yet again about their harassment, but even then the moment was short-lived. Drink no longer features the way it used to in my life – for either the ups or the downs. Instead of that I am actually more in need of a friendly ear or a long mind-clearing walk when the going gets tough. These I suppose are the things that everyone without a drink problem is aware of automatically. Hey, it’s taken me 35 years to get to this point, but better late than never, eh?

Am off tomorrow as I start my 4-day week and it is a real luxury. K will be away (happy coincidence) and I can clean and relax to my heart’s content!

D.I.V.O.R.C.E as Dolly would say!

Am in somewhat better humour today! Well, considering it couldn’t have really got much worse yesterday, I am surprisingly resilient if I am alive and well at all today!!!

K and I went for a walk down by the river when I got home as it was a beautiful and very warm evening. We had a drink at a pub that we sometimes frequent, looking over the Thames and watched a cruise ship come down the river and embark on its round Britain trip. Felt a lot better after some fresh air and we picked up an Indian takeaway on the way home for an even more relaxing evening.

Obviously, my family’s behaviour yesterday was a nightmare we could have both done without. It has simply reached its nadir and this time, it has to stop. I am gutted that my father would stoop so low as to trick me into corresponding with him by being friendly in his first mail, then unleashing the beast that is my mother once he had his ammunition. I feel hurt and betrayed, added to which he claimed in his message that he was poverty stricken as a result of my not selling the flat and could not go part-time as a result. I did defend myself against this attack suggesting that holidays in Canada and France and a mortgage taken out for my brother by them a few years ago does not a poor person make!!

They are so hell bent on being right about K (yet all their attacks on him are actually groundless) that they don’t want to hear or see the reality as they would lose credibility amongst their ‘friends’ if he turned out to be normal (relatively so). This is the part that hurts me the most. They are quite simply cutting off their nose to spite their face. They would prefer no relationship with me to one which conceded that K is my choice and that this should be respected if not liked. It basically tells me exactly where I stand in their eyes; sorry, love, you are a disappointment as you failed to be stick thin, mega clever and marry a man who could support you so fuck right off. Yip, you did read the support bit right. In 2009 my father suggested yesterday that K ought to be supporting me! Jesus wept, which century are we in, exactly? As I pointed out ‘I was brought up by a mother who told me to never rely on any man as they can’t be trusted, so make sure you have a career’. Their hypocrisy just astounds me. My father suggested that he never had help in life from my mother’s father, so why should K? Well, this isn’t actually true as his business failed in the late ‘80s and my mother ‘bailed him out’. The only money she had was inherited so for the rest of my life (when drunkenly arguing) she has regularly reminded him that she rescued them from the brink with her cash injection. The fact that this money originates with my Grandad Andrew (my mother takes after her mother in choosing never to work) is, in their eyes, irrelevant. Incredible.

So it’s over. I have officially divorced my parents. My brother has effectively chosen their side and I can’t say that his absence in my life is a huge loss. He did only bother with me when he felt like it (in between girlfriends in other words) and after his disgraceful behaviour last May when he was not just rude to me but insulting in front of his friends, I haven’t exactly lost any sleep over his decision to back my mum and dad. I have a partner and his sister and other family members have been more than welcoming. I have a lot of friends, all of whom I want to spend time with (unlike my parents who spend equal amounts of time slagging off their so called friends as enjoying their company!!) and the people I work with are also, underneath their professional veneer, a decent bunch. If I can’t have a family that wants to wish me well and not undermine, bully and demean me, then I am better off without one.

Moving on…tomorrow really is a new chapter in my life. Hey, I am over 2 months into my sobriety and that makes me far, far happier than anything I’ve done in life so far.