I bought a book back in the day called “Angst”. My best female friend told me off saying it was a bad idea. She didn’t like the “Just because you are paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t out to get you” poster either.
1. Being hurt, trusting again and waking up to harsh reality.
2. Thinking you have friends and although they might be there, they aren’t at the moment when you need them. That is not to knock them. They have their own lives.
3. Missing the important folk
This week, a family member having ignored an email about major family news for ages, emailed me asking for a favour and expected me to jump immediately. I had jumped before and did not even get the courtesy of a thank you. When I did not do so this time, I got a chasing email a few hours later as if I was the poor and inadequate relation.
I replied within 24 hours but as not in the way they might have wished (no I don’t want to travel miles out of my way to see someone I have never met to help them with a career ambition on the free) , I will now be ignored until I am perceived as being of use again.
Another family says all the right things but I know it is false and that is sad. Yes, I do know as I have seen the evidence that whilst saying the right words, they are not my friend.
I still have 3 step-daughters who never come to see us despite promises and suggestions they will do so. There will always be a lot of reasons and excuses but it still hurts and I need to toughen up about that and face the fact that it will never happen. My fantasy of family get-togethers with all my husband’s children enjoying each others company will not happen. Wake up Kate!
It would be OK if I could develop that tough heart that apparently you need when you enter the ranks of the grown-ups.
Today, a garage phoned to say my husband was due to view a new car. I felt a fool. I knew nothing about this. I still share so much detail of my life with my so-called partner and yet it feels like he has a very separate life that he gets on with regardless of me. I had actually spoken to him about possibly spending his redundancy money on a new car and he said he did not want one. That does not go with viewing a car in my book. He says viewing a car is just a fun thing to do. I see that as pointless and wasting everyone’s time if you have no interest in buying. Maybe I take things too seriously. What is so wrong with him looking for a new model?
I feel like I am given access to clubs and then suddenly that open door policy is withdrawn. I am useful but I am not really part of the in crowd. When will I ever grow up and not be so keen to be part of the “with it” crew?
I encourage mums to get naked on my other blog and everyone says how amazing they are. If I wear a swimsuit or publish a cheeky photo, I am brave. Amazing or brave? Which would I prefer? Brave suggests stupid, foolhardly and ugly. Why can’t I be amazing?
Today I wore a figure-hugging dress. It looked like I had been Gok-ed. It was me trying to be a little less scruffy so why so many nasty looks in the schoolyard?
And I miss my Mum and Dad.
What caused it this week?
Prince Philip was ill and I remembered laughing with Dad about what would happen if the Duke of Edinburgh passed away whilst sitting at the wedding of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. I know that does not sound nice but it made my Dad smile. A week of sunshine and camaraderie when all was well in the world.
I see Prince Philip and there is that look of impending death that I saw in my Dad without really recognising what it was. A pretence that he is not in pain, an increasingly wobbly stature – time is running out.
To distract myself from that feeling in the throat, I go to town and am bombarded with Father’s Day cards. Ah yes, the first Father’s Day without my Dad. Ouch!
I see the recycling banks where Dad would dutifully do his bit for the environment every week rarely letting me help him dispose of his bottles and papers. He always treated me as a lady just as he did my late mum. I miss being a lady! I never will be again and that hurts.
I find myself looking for Dad’s car. Often he would go to collect his prescription and I would take the opportunity to visit the charity shop. “Take as long as you like” he would say. So walking on my town’s streets is normal but there is no car and no Dad waiting for me. As I think this, an advertising slogan taunts “Don’t forget Grandad!”.
I am thinking about my Mum more too. Since Dad died, I feel more at peace about her with a focus on how brilliant she was rather than on the more painful stuff. I understood Mum more when I got involved in parenting and the 2 years living with Dad showed me that a lot of my frustrations were exactly the same as hers. If I behave in a less than ideal fashion when restricted by society for my gender or class, how can I hate her for doing so when she had much less scope for life than myself?
Please don’t lie to me.
Please don’t use me.
Please don’t pretend we have a relationship that we don’t.
Please don’t be snide about me on Twitter.
Please develop a Ready Break like aura so I know whether you are true or false.
I remember a day in London many years ago when I discovered a brand new pub with a friend. We drank cider on a hot day and life felt so carefree. It was just about two girls having a fun time. She is gone and so am I.