Through The Looking Glass

So, last post was a while ago. I was medically diagnosed with Stage 4 Endometriosis in August 2019 after a laparoscopy. I had a 6cm endometrioma removed from my right ovary and after a biopsy they determined it was not cancerous. So since then, I've been on a multitude of different hormonal medications and these have had serious side effects to both my physical and mental health. I don't recognise myself anymore on these medications. I am constantly angry, frustrated, have a short temper and am intollerant of everyone and everything... I have no libido and feel disconnected from those I love. And none of it is their fault. It's me.

My wonderful, supportive, caring and loving partner can no longer tollerate what these medications are doing to me. I'm no longer the girl he fell in love with. And it's killing our relationship. He does so much for me in life and especially around the house. I try and make sure I let him know what a great job he does with the renovations, but my intollerance of everything makes me snap at the smallest things - dishes not in the dishwasher, poking his head in the office to see how I'm doing or if I need anything... I take offence to the smallest thing, and I feel guilty every time I snap but I cannot stop it from happening in the first place. He's on eggshells and I'm a bulldozer destroying everything in my path.

I felt him drifting away and while I know it's my mood that's affecting him, my insecurities and paranoia tell me he's been wanting out and always wanted me to change, he was never happy with who I was, my income, my job, my lack of a degree... even when he has supported me through everything, and I mean everything.

I'm irrationally angry that he's not able to be supportive anymore - even when it's my tiny daggers that have torn away his tollerance and kindness over the past 12 months. I look up blogs and google search how to help the situation and come across countless women who experience the same feelings I do and wonder if their partners are more supportive, more understanding of the struggle they go through every day. I get angry that he's going back on his word to me that we'd get through it, when I gave him the option to leave when I was first diagnosed, knowing this was not what he'd signed up for when he met me. I don't blame him, but I'm angry. I'm always angry. I think back to when he was struggling, and I just kept saying I know it wasn't him, it wasn't his fault and I get angry that he can't be there for me, unconditionally, like I was for him. But it's stupid and it's wrong and it's a mindset I cannot help. I've put this wonderful man through hell, and he deserves peace and happiness.

My options are simple but not.. I can come off the meds, save my relationship and let the Endometriosis continue to scar my organs until I'm forced into another surgery..

Or I can lose the love of my life, continue to be angry.. and stop the Endo spreading...

I could not appreciate this man more in life. I met him during a crazy period where I was recovering from a fractured heart and minor breakdown caused by a serious douchebag (seriously, who gets in a relationship with someone and books an overseas trip together after 12 months when they’re cheating the entire time?). I was way out of my comfort zone in dating and boy am I glad I stepped out of my bubble! (life lesson - good things happen outside your comfort zone!)

Everyone see’s the “perfect” instagram couples and every grand gesture shared on Facebook or what ever their chosen social media outlet is, but it’s not about the grand gestures. Love should not be about social media and everyone else's “approval” and “likes”. It’s the little things that matter.

It’s him calling me every single day on lunch and after work because we’re not living together at the moment like we were. It’s him offering to give me a neck rub when I’m stressed. It’s him putting up with my horrible movie choices and bad taste in TV shows. It’s him offering to help me cook in the kitchen, every time, even though he knows I’m just going to kick him out (it’s my domain). It’s him when we fight, making me laugh, because he knows that the second he does get me to crack a smile the fight is over and we’re ok. It’s him kissing me on the forehead when he gets up early to go and train while I’m still cozy in bed. It’s him reassuring me that things will work out when I’m worrying about money, or the horses, or uni, or my family. It’s him pushing me out of my comfort zone even when I’m scared because he’s going to be there for me no matter what.

The amount of love and affection I have for him is like nothing I’ve had before. And I love the person I am with him. I’m more patient and less reactive. He brings out the best in me and I can be goofy around him and dress like a dag and feel comfortable without make up, which I never have with anyone else. He brings so much to my life and without him I would not have met my birth mother. My life would not be complete without him in it.

I heard that in a movie - The Perks of Being a Wall Flower... I think it’s probably one of the truest and most poignant statements I’ve ever heard. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it, probably far too much time, but it especially comes back to me louder than ever when I hear of my friends being hurt by their partners who love them.

God I write that and feel a little sick in my stomach. Who love them. Do you truly love someone that you physically hurt, which degrades them in a manner that makes them question their own worth? How is that love? How could you lift your hand to the person who swears to stand by your side and protect your love?

I can’t stand to see them hurt but when you tell them to leave you get the same responses

“But I love him”

“It’s only when we fight”

“I’m a mum, who’s going to want me?”

“I’m too old for this. I can’t do this all over again”

“It’s not all the time, thing’s are really good now”

How could my beautiful friends not think that they deserve better? How could they not see that they’re not alone and have so much love and support around them? How could they not see that they’re strong enough to walk away?

I know domestic violence has been around since the ages but how in today’s society where it’s splashed across the nightly news, in the days paper and across social media news feeds, does this still get swept aside? Are we becoming so disillusioned to the violence that it’s just an every day norm?

So today is a bad day... My head is not a friendly place to be and I’m certainly not being kind to myself.

How and when did it all begin... because I don’t believe bad days (and I mean the really bad days, the ones where you wish you didn't exist anymore) just spring up out of nowhere and bring you crashing to your knees. No, I believe they all come from somewhere.

Mine came from a what some would say to be a small and seemingly insignificant comment from someone I care deeply about. It’s funny how such a small comment can rattle around in your brain causing small disruptions until suddenly the wheels are off the wagon and we’re going full tilt down a path with no brakes or parachute in sight.

The comment isn’t worth repeating but it’s made me question a lot of life decisions and my plans of the future. I wanted to do better, to be better than  currently am. To strive for something that person believes I can have if I was willing to work for it because they feel I’m smart enough to go after anything I want.

So the seed was planted some time ago to go back to school (when I say school I mean University - but if I said University then Adam Sandler’s “back to school” song in Billy Madison would not be as relevant). I’m one week in and already having my first breakdown. My mind is telling me that I’m not smart enough, that I can’t possibly remember all this material, that I was never any good at Math and Science in high school and that’s the entire basis of this Degree... that I’m only doing this for someone else, and not for me.

I’m having this internal argument with myself about what’s really true. Am I just doing this for them, because of that comment they made? Or is this something I truly want. Sure there’s no doubt that the end result would be good. I could achieve my dream of working for myself with the animals I love and make a real difference in their lives... but the final stepping stone in my journey is missing. The second Degree I needed no longer exists and to get that qualification I would have to study internationally. 

But that’s another issue.... The first part is that I need this first Degree to even be eligible for the second Degree. There’s no side stepping it - it’s literally impossible. So my head is arguing, well why even do the first Degree if the second no longer exists in this country and you would have to move abroad? Which isn’t even an option due to a number of things, like money, my two horses, my love... The logistics of it all are so frightfully complicated and I feel sick.

I feel sick and hollow inside, like there’s a part in my middle section that doesn’t exist and it aches just a little. I don’t know how to fill that section in. Then my mind says to me, that comment that person made, is that truly how they feel about you? They’re such a huge and important part of my life but what would happen if I didn’t strive to be all I could be? What if I’m just happy being me? Would they be so disappointed that they couldn’t sit by and watch my life continue on as it is? What does that say about them? And should I even want to have them in my life if they’re thinking that way about me?

Sometimes my mind flashes to anger - what’s wrong with my life, my job? Sure ok it’s not a huge money earner but someone has to do it and I make enough to get by. Not everyone is a Doctor or a Lawyer or a CEO, there are millions of other people in society that are the reason that we get by in our daily lives. People who work at supermarkets and drive buses and help do paperwork and clean up after everyone else. Where would we be without them? What’s wrong with what they do? Why are they thought lesser of?

All I want in my life is to be able to help, be a nice person, a good person. I have struggled my whole life trying to find where I fit in this world. Sometimes I wonder if I am even meant for this world, and then I try to think of the good things I have done and I try to be kinder to myself.

Sometimes I wish it would all just stop.

How did I end up in this situation again? Back at home under the toxic cloud that is my parents influence. I’ve been back 16 days and already they’re threatening to kick me out unless I bend to their will - the latest thing they want to control? How I hang my calendar on my desk. Not even kidding. It’s that pathetic.

Their ridiculous need to micromanage and control absolutely everything I do. They’ve always controlled my curfew, my room and how it’s set up, my education (beyond school), my money, my wardrobe - my life. 

She’s worse though. So bitter and resentful and rarely a kind word ever comes my way. I can’t even count the amount of times she’s barged in to my room while I was doing something and she’s demanded I drop what I’m doing to help her. Today it was activating a new credit card while I was trying to enrol in my classes at Uni. I’m going back you see. I need a better qualification so I can earn enough money to get out of here permanently.

For the last few months I’ve been with my partner. He’s the most amazing, supportive, person I’ve ever met. He encourages me to do things that I’ve been, for years, too scared of my parents to do. I found her, my birth mother, thanks to him. The fallout from that was huge, but I was living out of home and away from their influence so I was able to cope.

Now I’m back, and I just want it all to stop.

To be able to have my own future, free from them. To be truly happy and know that the decisions I make in my life are my own and not out of fear of them, of disappointing them because it doesn't fit with their perfect view of how I should be.

I’m not a bad person despite being less than ideal for them, I rarely drink (might have one glass of wine if we ever go out for dinner), don’t do drugs and have only tried one once, I went to uni straight out of school and while it didn’t work out I busted my guts working to save up and I pursued my passion for horses so when I had the money I rescued what I could and re-homed them. That’s how I ended up back here. Trying to pay off bills and a loan that has helped me save a couple of horses lives. 

Being a kind person is not enough for them. They expect me to be successful, be 28 with my own house, husband - meanwhile still expecting me to cater to their every whim. Even when I wasn’t there and was out living my own life, I was expected to call in every weekend and help with what ever task she had come up with.

There’s been a lot of sleepless nights being back here. I can’t relax enough to sleep. I’ve battled depression and insomnia before on numerous occasions. It’s a black dog that always comes and rarely goes. I’ve been so good since meeting my partner, I’m the happiest I’ve been in years and it terrifies me being back here that I’m lapsing into old destructive habits. I know enough to recognise them but obviously I still can’t stop them even when I see them coming from a mile away.

We met a long time ago... I’m sorry I don’t remember your face. I was too young the last time I saw you to remember it. I’ve wanted to write for so long. You see I finally got the letter you sent me. I think I’ve managed to track you down. I wrote back to you but I’ve put off sending it. I guess it’s because I’m scared.

Scared you’ve pushed the thought of me to the back of your mind

Scared you’ve got a new family and you’re happy without the memories

Scared you wont want me

Fear is what keeps me from sending the letter I’ve written a dozen times, with a photo attached so you can see what I look like, and make peace with your decision knowing I’m ok.

I can’t comprehend how difficult that choice was for you to make all those years ago but I do understand why you chose what you did. I don’t resent you for wanting a life for yourself and I don’t think you’re selfish for wanting it. You were just a kid. I can only hope you had the life you dreamt of, and the memories of me didn’t keep you up at night.

I’m honestly ok. I grew up with a good family. I had options a lot of kids never have. I’m lucky beyond words.

So two days ago it was my birthday. Many years ago I set myself a few milestones, things to have accomplished, by the time I turned this age. Have a husband, house and the thought of possibly having a child in my mind (that last one was a biggie for me seeing as how I’ve very determindly said since I was a child that I NEVER wanted to be a parent). 

The golden age? 27.

So the dreaded day came and passed and I’ve since reflected back on my life’s choices. Sure I bet you’re all thinking - 27 is still young! Why the rush? Yes well that’s true but it sure doesn't help when your best friends in life are either married, knocked up or have a little ankle biter running around causing chaos left right and centre (see I told you the kids thing was a biggie).

You know how the teachers ask when you’re in school, what do you want to be when you grow up? Well growing up I had no idea. Mum’s a nurse but I don't like doctors and I’m a huge trypanophobe (phobia of needles). Dad’s an accountant but I honestly suck at math so that was never an option. So what did I have to go off? 

Honestly as a kid growing up all I wanted to do was ride horses. At 10 I planned on being a jockey and living in the US racing in the Derby and Breeders Cup on a long shot that had the most epic come from behind finish. Life didn't quite pan out that way because after I took a bad fall at about age 12, I stuffed my left shoulder and I became terrified of ever hitting the ground again.

So then I just concentrated on not flunking school with no foresight of what my future may hold. Grade 12 came around and we got the University degree booklets. I found a college a few hours away that had Equine Science courses. After a day up at the college I realised it just gave me a piece of paper that qualified me to be nothing more really than a stable hand.

Oops.. Grade 12 was basically over and I had no real plan. I went to a couple of different universities and dropped out. I eventually went back to my school for an open day and ran into my English teacher - she asked what I was studying and I told her (Primary Education was the latest degree I was trying out). She looked a bit shocked - she had her money on me becoming an author. That I wouldn’t have even pegged for myself despite my love of poetry and writing (and that I tried to get my works published when I was in Grade 9).

So I eventually gave up Uni and started working racehorses at the track. It was only after working with a few that were injured and my own horses that I realised I wanted to concentrate on rehabilitating horses after their injuries. Bringing them back to their peak fitness. Then after a lot of researching I had to accept that unless I went back to Uni and got a solid GPA I had 0 chance of even making it into my course and if by some miracle I did, then I’d have to suffer 4/5 years of dealing with people at physio clinics. I’m so not a people person...

So no dream job or money coming in.. no house on my dream property with stables and lush green paddocks for my horses. As for the husband... Well that dream was stripped from me.. twice.

The day rolled around amidst jokes that my hair was greying which is why I’m constantly dying it and that I’m not getting any younger (tick.. tock.. goes the biological clock).. sitting thinking to myself... I’m 27, broke, single and still living in my parents house.

If reminiscing has accomplished anything it’s that I damn well wish I’d figured out what I wanted earlier in life and that my teachers had taught me more about what was out in the real world - because lets face it - isn't that what they’re supposed to be preparing us for? (Here I feel like there should be some amazing Harry Potter reference from The Order Of The Phoenix with Umbridge) 

Kids if you’re reading this... do not wish away your school days. Work your asses off and have a plan. I know you only get to be young and dumb once.. but when you’ve got a career planned and money coming in you get to do way cooler stuff with your life. Trust me on that.

There’s no two ways about it. They always just do. Why? Because some part of you (however small a part that may be), wanted something more than just friendship with this person and now that’s ended. Even if you’re still friends, it will always suck.

 The worst break ups are when you’re in love. No not the “I love you bae” or what ever else type of crap that people throw around without no real feeling behind it or have any care about the consequences saying those words have these days. Real love. The kind where being apart makes you feel like a part of your soul is missing. The kind where they’re sad and you’d give anything and everything to make it all ok. The kind where even the thought of being without them makes you feel physically sick.

 Well I had that… and losing him didn’t just make me go through a box of Kleenex, a few tubs of Ben & Jerry’s and admittedly a few bottles of wine on a Sunday with my girlfriends. No… this break up nearly broke me. If you’ve loved and lost someone you’ll know what it feels like. Where you physically hurt, even in places you didn’t know you had. It’s gut-wrenching agony that makes you feel so sick to your stomach where no amount of crying or venting or screaming could ever lessen what you feel.

 I thought I knew it was coming; after all, the signs had been there for a long time. He hid his phone, he denied cheating even when my friends busted him on dating websites (and I stupidly forgave him and pretended it never happened) and he had wanted to have a break only a few weeks earlier.. but he came back. He told me he wanted this relationship, he wanted me and a future together. I was prepared then for it to end. I wasn’t prepared for what happened after.

 I busted him on a dating/hook up app. Of course. How gullible and stupid of me. Liars and cheaters do not change.  They suck you in and then try to turn the tables around on you. All the signs were there! How could I have ignored my gut instinct? I kept looking to the past. For goodness sakes! we’d just booked a trip overseas together. I thought, why would he do that if he didn’t want to be with me? But he didn’t… no he wanted to be with the fake me (or probably anyone else other than me).The me with a different face and name on that app… My story was the same, I treated him the same. After a few hours of chatting I asked him how long he’d been single for… his response? A while.

 The knife cut deep and I knew there was no salvaging this. I kept it up until we planned to meet. My friends all said to go, to bust him in person. Oh god I so wanted to. I wanted to see the shocked look on his face when he realized he’d screwed up. I wanted it to be public so everyone would know what he had done. But he had some of my belongings at his place and we still had the holiday booked in both our names. I needed to get my things back and everything sorted.

 Then I was in the car park at work early one morning at the start of May.. not even a phone call. A text. We were done. I couldn’t even comprehend what had just happened. He was so into the other me he was going to dump the real me? Because I wasn’t blonde like she was? Because I didn’t look the same as she did? What was so good about her and not me? I text my boss and started to drive home… then the pain hit. It was crippling. I couldn’t breathe. I was having a panic attack at 110km driving down the highway. One of my friends called, like she intuitively knew something was wrong. I still couldn’t breathe, I could barely see through the tears and my whole body felt like I’d gone a few rounds with a sensational boxer. With her talking me through it I managed to make it to my doctors who gave me the relief I needed, no questions asked.

 I spent the next few weeks in a Valium fuelled haze. I struggled to exist. I went to sleep hoping I wouldn’t wake up, so I didn’t have to hurt the next morning or face the memories. What kills me is that I haven't just lost him out of my life as a physical presence, I also lost a whole future that I saw with him. I saw it all so clearly in my head, the image of him and our young daughter, standing at the kitchen island bench, whisking up batter for pancakes on a sunday morning... 

But life goes on with or without you going along with it. 

I’ve suffered from a heart murmur most of my life. It’s irregular so the doctors have never been able to track it because they cannot predict when it will happen again. Now it happens all too frequently. The black outs, the hitched breath that comes when my heart, quite literally, skips a beat. He managed to physically break my heart.

 I tried to move on just as quickly as he had… okay that’s a lie considering I found out he’d moved on about 6-7 months before he dumped me but as quickly as I possibly could. I threw myself into everything I could out side of work hours where I usually had little to distract me. I climbed a mountain, a real one not a metaphorical one. I dated random guys, who for the most part, were actually quite lovely. I went out most nights with my girlfriends and more often than not had too much to drink. I took the holiday and escaped being in the same country as him for two weeks.

 But breakups will always suck and this one still does. Because 4 months on I still can’t look at a photo of us without feeling my stomach sink. Because I experienced new places and things with him that I love now and going to and doing those things make me think of him. Because every time I go on a date I try to act blasé but I’m sitting there silently begging internally for things to go ok but not great, because I cannot physically stomach the idea of being with someone who can hurt me... but at the same time, I’m afraid of being alone.