I had to chastise daughter last night. In her room I found a sheet of paper for booking visiting times for school parent's evening in the middle of November - a parent's evening I had no idea happened. She was apparently given the sheet on a day she was sent home sick and forgot to give it to me.
I was pretty angry but I think I kept my head. The main reason I was upset is that it appears to have coincided with one of her school reports which she was particularly disappointed about and I ended up attending an extra meeting with her head of year to find out how she was getting on with her second year at the school. I felt like I must have looked a bit foolish booking a meeting with her head of year after apparently missing her parent's evening for no apparent reason.
Anyway, I did my usual thing of not really thinking my actions through and went off on one a little. I didn't lose my temper but I don't think I handled it particularly well and I went on a bit too long, diluting my point.
I'm learning that I should take a few deep breaths and maybe rest on my thoughts a bit before confronting her with things which piss me off. When my emotions are high I tend to ramble and lose track of what I'm trying to achieve, and giving myself time to clarify that is important, especially when dealing with someone who's had to put up with an irrational and unpredictable mother. It's interesting watching her reaction when I get het up, and hopefully she takes it on board when I make it clear I'm not going to lose my temper or hit her.
It's obvious that we're adapting to each other's way of behaving. I've lived alone for almost three years and with other adults the rest of my life, only having daughter around every other weekend for access visits. Daughter's lived with her family until three years ago when her mum and stepdad split up, and since she's lived in various places and configurations of mother, brother, sister, stepdad and his new family, and me. It must be hard for her to keep having to learn how to act around all these adults with their foibles and nuances and varying personalities. She's doing incredibly well considering all the other early-teen stuff she's going through, and I'm proud of her for that.
It's a massive learning curve, and I'm sure we're still moving slowly along the steep beginnings.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Monday, December 28, 2009
Festivities
I'm back at work after three lovely, Christmassy days off. The big day passed without a hitch and it was lovely to have daughter with me from the morning and spend the day with my family. Some exciting and thoughtful gifts were exchanged and it we came home full and satisfied.
True to predictions, daughter's pre-planned seven-hour meeting with her mother got changed dramatically. Instead of meeting her at 10am, I got a text asking to put it back to midday as they were 'going to a friend's for lunch'. Daughter wasn't surprised at all. Then, instead of being back for 7pm, she arrived home at 2.30pm having spent two hours sat it a pub opening presents - 45 minutes of which her mum spent talking to one of her friends. Daughter was visibly pissed off by this and I'm sure that although she appreciated the small gifts she was given, it nowhere near makes up for being treated like just another human to manipulate.
This brings me on to something that's been bugging me since their last meeting. Daughter's been asked to go to London with her mum to buy stuff for 'their new flat' and has been told they can hopefully decorate daughter's room however she wants. I'm confused about this - does she honestly think she can take daughter back after everything that's happened? Does she not see what emotional turmoil she's put her daughter through with her selfish and thoughtless campaign of self-destruction? It's possible she's just thinking about her fortnightly access visits, but having known this woman for as long as I have I sincerely doubt it. It's most likely she's planning on trying to take daughter back full-time and have another go at trying to be a mum. The thing is, I think I've finally got to the point where I absolutely will not give her that chance for fear that she'd mess it all up again and take daughter down with her.
A number of us have worked hard to ensure Sophie is settled and balanced and has everything she needs to keep a level head. Her teachers, her counsellor, her friends, her grandmother and I have all tried to give her a path to teenagehood which is free of the stresses and strains she's been under for the past three years while her mum's bounced from boyfriend to house to friend to wherever and dragged three kids along behind her. We've given her emotional, social and financial support and while I know some of that would still be available if she were going back to her mum, I don't know if it'd be enough to balance all the crap that her mum appears to dole out.
So I've made the decision to stick to my original intention and try my hardest to take daughter on as her full-time, responsible parent. I know I have the capacity to give daughter the life she needs and the potential to follow the legal path to make that all official. The desire to make sure daughter is as stable and happy as she can be is stronger than ever and I hope she can see far enough into the future that it's clear to her this would be the best thing for her.
There is still a fear, however, that daughter doesn't want the stable, happy life and craves the instability and uncertainty that goes with living with her mum. In that situation, she's moved around a lot between houses and schools and localities and friends. She's commented before that she wants to move schools, not because she's having a bad time at this one but because she's bored with it. She wants something new and fun and exciting, to be the new kid again, the forging of new friendships and relationships. I can see the attraction of that, and considering it's all she's really known since she was six or seven it's not surprising that's what she desires. Unfortunately, there are many pitfalls associated with that life and it's obvious to all around her that she deserves a few years of stability while she goes through her exam years at school and develops into the person she'll be as an adult.
I'm determined to provide that for her. I've no idea what I'll do if she decides to rebel against me or follow this other path, but I know for sure it'll be fun and fulfilling finding out.
True to predictions, daughter's pre-planned seven-hour meeting with her mother got changed dramatically. Instead of meeting her at 10am, I got a text asking to put it back to midday as they were 'going to a friend's for lunch'. Daughter wasn't surprised at all. Then, instead of being back for 7pm, she arrived home at 2.30pm having spent two hours sat it a pub opening presents - 45 minutes of which her mum spent talking to one of her friends. Daughter was visibly pissed off by this and I'm sure that although she appreciated the small gifts she was given, it nowhere near makes up for being treated like just another human to manipulate.
This brings me on to something that's been bugging me since their last meeting. Daughter's been asked to go to London with her mum to buy stuff for 'their new flat' and has been told they can hopefully decorate daughter's room however she wants. I'm confused about this - does she honestly think she can take daughter back after everything that's happened? Does she not see what emotional turmoil she's put her daughter through with her selfish and thoughtless campaign of self-destruction? It's possible she's just thinking about her fortnightly access visits, but having known this woman for as long as I have I sincerely doubt it. It's most likely she's planning on trying to take daughter back full-time and have another go at trying to be a mum. The thing is, I think I've finally got to the point where I absolutely will not give her that chance for fear that she'd mess it all up again and take daughter down with her.
A number of us have worked hard to ensure Sophie is settled and balanced and has everything she needs to keep a level head. Her teachers, her counsellor, her friends, her grandmother and I have all tried to give her a path to teenagehood which is free of the stresses and strains she's been under for the past three years while her mum's bounced from boyfriend to house to friend to wherever and dragged three kids along behind her. We've given her emotional, social and financial support and while I know some of that would still be available if she were going back to her mum, I don't know if it'd be enough to balance all the crap that her mum appears to dole out.
So I've made the decision to stick to my original intention and try my hardest to take daughter on as her full-time, responsible parent. I know I have the capacity to give daughter the life she needs and the potential to follow the legal path to make that all official. The desire to make sure daughter is as stable and happy as she can be is stronger than ever and I hope she can see far enough into the future that it's clear to her this would be the best thing for her.
There is still a fear, however, that daughter doesn't want the stable, happy life and craves the instability and uncertainty that goes with living with her mum. In that situation, she's moved around a lot between houses and schools and localities and friends. She's commented before that she wants to move schools, not because she's having a bad time at this one but because she's bored with it. She wants something new and fun and exciting, to be the new kid again, the forging of new friendships and relationships. I can see the attraction of that, and considering it's all she's really known since she was six or seven it's not surprising that's what she desires. Unfortunately, there are many pitfalls associated with that life and it's obvious to all around her that she deserves a few years of stability while she goes through her exam years at school and develops into the person she'll be as an adult.
I'm determined to provide that for her. I've no idea what I'll do if she decides to rebel against me or follow this other path, but I know for sure it'll be fun and fulfilling finding out.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
What a difference a day makes
Twenty-four little hours. I went from heavily emotional to cool as a cucumber in such a short period. Yesterday daughter and I got on famously, not just because I put in some extra effort to be bright and bubbly but because she really does seen genuinely settled in our little abode. We sat together and wrapped presents for family, we played on the Wii and laughed and joked. That's how I'd like things to be every time we hang out together, and I think it's so easy to lose that motivation for fun and energy for interaction when your child is living with you.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Brain thaw
Yesterday's emotional fluctuations were quite severe and I can mainly put it down to being overtired. At one point I was sat here in the office typing away at yesterday's post with tears in my eyes feeling really sorry for myself and letting my mind race off in search of negativity and failure, something I haven't done for a long time. It just reinforces the importance of good sleep routine and I've spent two of the past three nights in bed at eight and asleep by nine.
When I'm less tired, I'm much more capable of balancing my logical, pragmatic side with my crazy, depressive side. When I'm too tired, I'm prone to making bad judgements and being so unable to process rational thoughts I managed to tell my daughter to 'shut up' the other day, even though she was trying to be nice. Bad daddy! Of course, I apologised as I always will if I think I've done something wrong, but that's an extreme example of how lack of sleep can effect me.
Many of yesterday's fears were allayed when daughter came back from her meeting with her mum. As I said, it'd been adjusted from an afternoon Christmas shopping in the city to less than an hour wandering around our town before her mum found something more important to do. Daughter was quite disappointed that plans were changed but not surprised, because these plans always, always get changed. They're supposed to be meeting for nine hours on Boxing Day - I can guarantee that'll change in one way or another. It'll most likely be two hours, or it'll have to start later, or something... something will have to change. I often think she gets a kick out of changing plans at the last minute because it puts her in complete control of people's destinies. We'll see, anyway.
Daughter wasn't particularly complimentary after their meeting. I'm not blind to the fact that daughter occasionally tells me things she thinks will please me or shift my view somewhat, and I think yesterday was no exception. She said her mum kept referring to her 'new flat' as 'our flat' and 'perfect for us' and said that disturbed her a bit. She said she didn't want to upset her mum by telling her she's not coming back - the words she used were 'It's all going to go wrong again'. She was unsure whether she'd consider going back even if I'd let her, and didn't want to upset me by moving out. This might all be fantasy anyway, if I can muster the balls to follow through with my intention of obtaining full custody. She also said her mum kept telling her what she'd bought her for Christmas, which was seen as an attempt to score Brownie points. All in all, while daughter seemed to enjoy this brief meeting with her mum, it showed me that daughter sees things more clearly than I give her credit for and hopefully knows that I'm trying to do what's best for her.
I also learned that in times of severe overtiredness, I should avoid emotional issues and try to keep a rein on negative trains of thought, lest the trains leave their tracks.
When I'm less tired, I'm much more capable of balancing my logical, pragmatic side with my crazy, depressive side. When I'm too tired, I'm prone to making bad judgements and being so unable to process rational thoughts I managed to tell my daughter to 'shut up' the other day, even though she was trying to be nice. Bad daddy! Of course, I apologised as I always will if I think I've done something wrong, but that's an extreme example of how lack of sleep can effect me.
Many of yesterday's fears were allayed when daughter came back from her meeting with her mum. As I said, it'd been adjusted from an afternoon Christmas shopping in the city to less than an hour wandering around our town before her mum found something more important to do. Daughter was quite disappointed that plans were changed but not surprised, because these plans always, always get changed. They're supposed to be meeting for nine hours on Boxing Day - I can guarantee that'll change in one way or another. It'll most likely be two hours, or it'll have to start later, or something... something will have to change. I often think she gets a kick out of changing plans at the last minute because it puts her in complete control of people's destinies. We'll see, anyway.
Daughter wasn't particularly complimentary after their meeting. I'm not blind to the fact that daughter occasionally tells me things she thinks will please me or shift my view somewhat, and I think yesterday was no exception. She said her mum kept referring to her 'new flat' as 'our flat' and 'perfect for us' and said that disturbed her a bit. She said she didn't want to upset her mum by telling her she's not coming back - the words she used were 'It's all going to go wrong again'. She was unsure whether she'd consider going back even if I'd let her, and didn't want to upset me by moving out. This might all be fantasy anyway, if I can muster the balls to follow through with my intention of obtaining full custody. She also said her mum kept telling her what she'd bought her for Christmas, which was seen as an attempt to score Brownie points. All in all, while daughter seemed to enjoy this brief meeting with her mum, it showed me that daughter sees things more clearly than I give her credit for and hopefully knows that I'm trying to do what's best for her.
I also learned that in times of severe overtiredness, I should avoid emotional issues and try to keep a rein on negative trains of thought, lest the trains leave their tracks.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Turmoil
In the past eight hours I've broken two of my never-before-defined Golden Rules for an Easy Life.
First, I stayed up much too late for my own good. I had some friends over for food and games and it went on far too long but it was absolutely worth it.
Second, I let my paranoia get the better of me and I read a few text messages on my daughter's phone. In the past, I promised her and myself that her phone would be private and I wouldn't snoop on her conversations, but I had my reasons and I hope to justify them here.
Last week, I received word that daughter's mother had finally been given her marching orders from her ex-boyfriends house and had skipped town. While this initially caused some confusion and threw her Boxing Day meeting with daughter into doubt, I wasn't surprised or particularly displeased by the news. There's been very little contact between mother and daughter for the past eight weeks since mother and boyfriend actually split up - maybe a couple of text messages in one day a few weeks ago, but otherwise nothing. Nothing, that is, until Sunday evening.
We were relaxing playing Wii and daughter sent out a chain text she'd got and within a few minutes she was exchanging messages with her mum. This bugged me a bit - more on this another time - but she was obviously pleased to hear from her and I love having a happy daughter so I left them to it. She asked permission to go shopping with her mum today at midday and I granted it without much thought.
On waking this morning I got an email from her mother's ex saying 'Urgent. I heard mother is taking daughter shopping tomorrow. I'm praying this isn't true. I'll call you tomorrow.' It sounded very ominous and I felt my stomach drop. Thoughts of abduction or coersion raced through my mind and the thought occured there might be more to this text conversation than daughter was letting on. It was here I decided to have a look at her phone to make sure nothing untoward was being planned.
I've only ever snooped on her phone once before in very similar circumstances, but that time I went too far and read messages which were outside of the scope of my investigation. I regretted doing it because a couple of tiny things I read exploded in my mind and caused me all kinds of internal anguish. I told myself then that I'd not do anything like that again and this time I stuck to that and only read the conversation between daughter and mother. I still feel guilty for doing so but I think having your child's best interests at heart is some justification.
Unfortunately, I read a couple of things which have caused me great discomfort. Apparently mother is back in town and has 'a nice flat in town perfect for us' which... well... hurts like fuck. Is she really going to try and take daughter back on? What the hell would I do if she does? Daughter will want to go back and I won't be able to stop her without being the villain. The fact that daughter even wants to go back disturbs me deeply - does she really want to go back to shouting and hitting and slave-driving and lies? I'm making it sound over-dramatic but this is the picture that's been painted over the past couple of years and yes, it does seem as if she wants to go back to that. It makes me feel absolutely awful, that I'm trying so hard to provide a stable home and parent for her but she seems to want to blindly follow the path of self-destruction. Even if she does make a home for her kids, or even just for daughter, I am absolutely sure she'll fuck it all up again. It makes me feel unappreciated and... I mean... what have I got to do to get some fucking stability in our life?
All this is based on a few text messages I shouldn't really have read this morning. I haven't got the full picture and I'm tired and emotional and haven't really got anyone to bitch at or clear my head, and I'm just spewing thoughts into my keypad.
Having had a call from mother's ex, he doesn't have any further information for me. I suspect he was pissed last night - his email was pretty scrappy - and had a kneejerk reaction to the news his ex was back in town. I'm reasonably assured her mother wouldn't try anything stupid, especially if she wants to stay on the right side of social services and the law. However, I can't shake the feeling that she's forging the spanner I've long suspected she'd throw into the works.
It's almost as if she sees daughter as a prize to be won. I've no idea if she's made arrangements to try and see her other two children, and she's made hardly any effort to stay in touch until now. I'm sure she loves her in her way, but I've always felt she'd never 'let me win' and she even told daughter she'd never allow me to have full custody. It seems she'll do anything to have daughter back living with her and that troubles me because it appears to be selfish, in her mother's interest and not daughter's. Almost like 'Look at me, I've got my life in order and my daughter lives with me again!'
I often chastise myself for wishing I never met this woman, mainly because I wouldn't have such a wonderful daughter if I hadn't. But honestly, I dream of a world where she doesn't have control over daughter and, ultimately, me.
Edit: daughter went into town to meet her mum who changed plans dramatically from an afternoon shopping in the city to half an hour wandering around town. She said "She keeps saying 'our house' and 'perfect for us' which makes me uncomfortable." Maybe I was way off the mark...
First, I stayed up much too late for my own good. I had some friends over for food and games and it went on far too long but it was absolutely worth it.
Second, I let my paranoia get the better of me and I read a few text messages on my daughter's phone. In the past, I promised her and myself that her phone would be private and I wouldn't snoop on her conversations, but I had my reasons and I hope to justify them here.
Last week, I received word that daughter's mother had finally been given her marching orders from her ex-boyfriends house and had skipped town. While this initially caused some confusion and threw her Boxing Day meeting with daughter into doubt, I wasn't surprised or particularly displeased by the news. There's been very little contact between mother and daughter for the past eight weeks since mother and boyfriend actually split up - maybe a couple of text messages in one day a few weeks ago, but otherwise nothing. Nothing, that is, until Sunday evening.
We were relaxing playing Wii and daughter sent out a chain text she'd got and within a few minutes she was exchanging messages with her mum. This bugged me a bit - more on this another time - but she was obviously pleased to hear from her and I love having a happy daughter so I left them to it. She asked permission to go shopping with her mum today at midday and I granted it without much thought.
On waking this morning I got an email from her mother's ex saying 'Urgent. I heard mother is taking daughter shopping tomorrow. I'm praying this isn't true. I'll call you tomorrow.' It sounded very ominous and I felt my stomach drop. Thoughts of abduction or coersion raced through my mind and the thought occured there might be more to this text conversation than daughter was letting on. It was here I decided to have a look at her phone to make sure nothing untoward was being planned.
I've only ever snooped on her phone once before in very similar circumstances, but that time I went too far and read messages which were outside of the scope of my investigation. I regretted doing it because a couple of tiny things I read exploded in my mind and caused me all kinds of internal anguish. I told myself then that I'd not do anything like that again and this time I stuck to that and only read the conversation between daughter and mother. I still feel guilty for doing so but I think having your child's best interests at heart is some justification.
Unfortunately, I read a couple of things which have caused me great discomfort. Apparently mother is back in town and has 'a nice flat in town perfect for us' which... well... hurts like fuck. Is she really going to try and take daughter back on? What the hell would I do if she does? Daughter will want to go back and I won't be able to stop her without being the villain. The fact that daughter even wants to go back disturbs me deeply - does she really want to go back to shouting and hitting and slave-driving and lies? I'm making it sound over-dramatic but this is the picture that's been painted over the past couple of years and yes, it does seem as if she wants to go back to that. It makes me feel absolutely awful, that I'm trying so hard to provide a stable home and parent for her but she seems to want to blindly follow the path of self-destruction. Even if she does make a home for her kids, or even just for daughter, I am absolutely sure she'll fuck it all up again. It makes me feel unappreciated and... I mean... what have I got to do to get some fucking stability in our life?
All this is based on a few text messages I shouldn't really have read this morning. I haven't got the full picture and I'm tired and emotional and haven't really got anyone to bitch at or clear my head, and I'm just spewing thoughts into my keypad.
Having had a call from mother's ex, he doesn't have any further information for me. I suspect he was pissed last night - his email was pretty scrappy - and had a kneejerk reaction to the news his ex was back in town. I'm reasonably assured her mother wouldn't try anything stupid, especially if she wants to stay on the right side of social services and the law. However, I can't shake the feeling that she's forging the spanner I've long suspected she'd throw into the works.
It's almost as if she sees daughter as a prize to be won. I've no idea if she's made arrangements to try and see her other two children, and she's made hardly any effort to stay in touch until now. I'm sure she loves her in her way, but I've always felt she'd never 'let me win' and she even told daughter she'd never allow me to have full custody. It seems she'll do anything to have daughter back living with her and that troubles me because it appears to be selfish, in her mother's interest and not daughter's. Almost like 'Look at me, I've got my life in order and my daughter lives with me again!'
I often chastise myself for wishing I never met this woman, mainly because I wouldn't have such a wonderful daughter if I hadn't. But honestly, I dream of a world where she doesn't have control over daughter and, ultimately, me.
Edit: daughter went into town to meet her mum who changed plans dramatically from an afternoon shopping in the city to half an hour wandering around town. She said "She keeps saying 'our house' and 'perfect for us' which makes me uncomfortable." Maybe I was way off the mark...
Friday, December 18, 2009
Evolution part 2
More reflection on how I've changed in two and a half years.
I feel more like myself than I have done in years
Looking back on those old posts, it's quite painful to contemplate the way I felt about myself and the world in general. It's actually scary to consider how dark my thoughts were, how overshadowed with gloom every waking moment was. I'm not sure I can - or even want to - put into words what it felt like, but I can try to describe the differences between then and now. As the title of this paragraph alludes to, I feel like me again after so many years of feeling like half a person. I got some fantastic psychodynamic counselling last year and the transformation has been incredible, from low, demotivated and self-destructive to happy, confident and self-aware in a year or two. I know this is still a work in progress and I have my ups and downs, but they're mainly ups and I'm certainly more 'me' than I have been for years.
I'm the single parent for a bright and happy twelve-year-old girl
Perhaps the biggest change after recovering from depression is the arrival of my daughter. Any parent will tell you that having a baby is a massively disruptive and terrifying experience, but they've never tried taking on an almost fully-grown girl with a fashionable wardrobe, periods, schooling and an entire library of books. Easter is supposed to be a time of renewal and new beginnings, although at Easter this year noone was sure things would end up as they are now. I'm a proud and capable single parent looking after a mature young lady and doing well with it. She's a happy kid and I'm a happy dad. Her recent progress at home, school and socially has been an inspiration. For someone to come through so much emotional turmoil and still have such a positive disposition could be described as a miracle, but I know I've had a hand in that and much of the stuff I've done to help has worked wonderfully. Not that I'd really planned it like this; I'm kind of playing this whole parenting thing by ear. I think that's what you're supposed to do, anyway.
My diet is better - not much better, but better
I take some comfort in the fact that I no longer fill myself with cider and crisps and completely rubbish food. I feel considerably better in my body, despite not actually losing any weight, although I know that will come next year when I pick up the walking pace again. I can't wait to start back on the walking trail, stomping out ten or fifteen miles a week at an above-average pace and watching the extra weight disappear. A fair inspiration for this is daughter, who I noticed recently has put on a couple of pounds and now has a tiny bit of body fat on her belly! I know where that's come from - too much macaroni cheese and portions which are too big - and I'm on the case to stop her putting on any more and hopefully balance my diet a little more too. I feel much better in my mind also, as shovelling junk food and booze into my body was just another factor of self-destruction and is something I have yet to completely overcome.
I can look into the future
Not literally of course, else I wouldn't be sat here blogging, I'd be in a bookies somewhere correctly 'guessing' the winners of the 3.30 at Kempston. I mean I look into the future and I see happiness, stability, progress, fresh prospects, friendships and maybe even relationships. If I ever bothered to try and look forward previously, all I would see was darkness, so it's incredible to have the clarity of mind to consider the future something to work towards, instead of something that would just happen.
There have been so many wonderfully positive changes that writing this out has felt a bit like an ego trip, but fuck it. I deserve to feel good about myself after so long, and I'm so proud of the progress I've made in getting my life back to some form of normality. It's just great to rejoin the human race.
I feel more like myself than I have done in years
Looking back on those old posts, it's quite painful to contemplate the way I felt about myself and the world in general. It's actually scary to consider how dark my thoughts were, how overshadowed with gloom every waking moment was. I'm not sure I can - or even want to - put into words what it felt like, but I can try to describe the differences between then and now. As the title of this paragraph alludes to, I feel like me again after so many years of feeling like half a person. I got some fantastic psychodynamic counselling last year and the transformation has been incredible, from low, demotivated and self-destructive to happy, confident and self-aware in a year or two. I know this is still a work in progress and I have my ups and downs, but they're mainly ups and I'm certainly more 'me' than I have been for years.
I'm the single parent for a bright and happy twelve-year-old girl
Perhaps the biggest change after recovering from depression is the arrival of my daughter. Any parent will tell you that having a baby is a massively disruptive and terrifying experience, but they've never tried taking on an almost fully-grown girl with a fashionable wardrobe, periods, schooling and an entire library of books. Easter is supposed to be a time of renewal and new beginnings, although at Easter this year noone was sure things would end up as they are now. I'm a proud and capable single parent looking after a mature young lady and doing well with it. She's a happy kid and I'm a happy dad. Her recent progress at home, school and socially has been an inspiration. For someone to come through so much emotional turmoil and still have such a positive disposition could be described as a miracle, but I know I've had a hand in that and much of the stuff I've done to help has worked wonderfully. Not that I'd really planned it like this; I'm kind of playing this whole parenting thing by ear. I think that's what you're supposed to do, anyway.
My diet is better - not much better, but better
I take some comfort in the fact that I no longer fill myself with cider and crisps and completely rubbish food. I feel considerably better in my body, despite not actually losing any weight, although I know that will come next year when I pick up the walking pace again. I can't wait to start back on the walking trail, stomping out ten or fifteen miles a week at an above-average pace and watching the extra weight disappear. A fair inspiration for this is daughter, who I noticed recently has put on a couple of pounds and now has a tiny bit of body fat on her belly! I know where that's come from - too much macaroni cheese and portions which are too big - and I'm on the case to stop her putting on any more and hopefully balance my diet a little more too. I feel much better in my mind also, as shovelling junk food and booze into my body was just another factor of self-destruction and is something I have yet to completely overcome.
I can look into the future
Not literally of course, else I wouldn't be sat here blogging, I'd be in a bookies somewhere correctly 'guessing' the winners of the 3.30 at Kempston. I mean I look into the future and I see happiness, stability, progress, fresh prospects, friendships and maybe even relationships. If I ever bothered to try and look forward previously, all I would see was darkness, so it's incredible to have the clarity of mind to consider the future something to work towards, instead of something that would just happen.
There have been so many wonderfully positive changes that writing this out has felt a bit like an ego trip, but fuck it. I deserve to feel good about myself after so long, and I'm so proud of the progress I've made in getting my life back to some form of normality. It's just great to rejoin the human race.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Evolution part 1
I've just been reading back over some older posts from around the time I last moved house. I'm overwhelmed as to how much has changed in just two and a half years.
I no longer regularly smoke weed
For a long time I saw weed as a release. Then, is was a way to forget. Next, it was a tool for 'deleting the day' and finally a crutch which gave me terrible paranoia, stopped me concentrating and made me tidy-up like an obsessive freak. Cutting back on weed has been one of the most massively constructive things I've done over the past two years and I'd never go back to regular smoking now. The only time I use it now is if I'm out walking or very occasionally at home. I rarely buy any and if I do I get tiny amounts so there's no danger of anything other than a few joints over a few days so I don't overdo it. It's unfortunate that it's taken a few adverse reactions to the drug for me to take a step back but it's fantastic I've taken the step at all and I'm incredibly pleased to be free of it and the mental baggage which comes along with it. I even kept a couple of joint's worth at home for more than a week without considering having a spliff which, as anyone who's ever smoked with me will tell, you is a miracle.
My alcoholic tendencies are waning
Looking back on how much I used to drink and how often - even at the start of this year - I'm amazed I didn't slip into total alcoholic meltdown. Living on my own, having alienated most of my friends and generally sitting on my arse being bored, I turned to alcohol for entertainment and to block out the bad things I didn't want to think about. After I had counselling I cleaned my act up quite a bit but I slipped back into old habits quite quickly. Cider was the weapon of choice against boredom, formerly stupidly strong 7% or 8% stuff which broke my head for the evening and most of the next day and ruined my insides. Once it became apparent that stuff was likely to kill me I switched to slightly weaker stuff, although I've just realised 6% isn't that much weaker. I'd get a 2l bottle of that and drink it over a couple of hours and get a nice buzz on without feeling out of control or getting terrible guts the next day. Still, it was too much and I've managed to get myself out of that habit recently. It's an interesting observation that I used visit the alcohol section of the local supermarket almost every day whereas now I almost deliberately avoid it, even when it crosses my mind to 'just have one small beer with dinner'. Astonishing really, as there's been no specific point where I've told myself to do this. I think one of the reasons is that I'd noticed myself getting grouchy and picky with my daughter and didn't want to act like that. When she first moved in I virtually cut out all drinking at home, but when she settled in and things became more familiar, I again slipped back into buying 'the occasional drink'. I put a stop to that, though and now I can't remember the last time I bought 2l of cider. I'm very proud of this and intend on extending the process to reign-in my drinking in social situations so I don't get catastrophically drunk.
I've stopped smoking cigarettes
This has been a work in progress for many years. Now I'm at the point where I can take or leave cigarettes and it's a great place to be. For years I was under their spell and slave to their drug and habit but I'm happy to say I very rarely have cravings. I only tend to smoke when I'm out drinking and occasionally have one at work or at home. When I do have one, I'm constantly aware of making myself smell terrible and this is a big contributing factor in ensuring I don't start again.
Continued in part 2...
I no longer regularly smoke weed
For a long time I saw weed as a release. Then, is was a way to forget. Next, it was a tool for 'deleting the day' and finally a crutch which gave me terrible paranoia, stopped me concentrating and made me tidy-up like an obsessive freak. Cutting back on weed has been one of the most massively constructive things I've done over the past two years and I'd never go back to regular smoking now. The only time I use it now is if I'm out walking or very occasionally at home. I rarely buy any and if I do I get tiny amounts so there's no danger of anything other than a few joints over a few days so I don't overdo it. It's unfortunate that it's taken a few adverse reactions to the drug for me to take a step back but it's fantastic I've taken the step at all and I'm incredibly pleased to be free of it and the mental baggage which comes along with it. I even kept a couple of joint's worth at home for more than a week without considering having a spliff which, as anyone who's ever smoked with me will tell, you is a miracle.
My alcoholic tendencies are waning
Looking back on how much I used to drink and how often - even at the start of this year - I'm amazed I didn't slip into total alcoholic meltdown. Living on my own, having alienated most of my friends and generally sitting on my arse being bored, I turned to alcohol for entertainment and to block out the bad things I didn't want to think about. After I had counselling I cleaned my act up quite a bit but I slipped back into old habits quite quickly. Cider was the weapon of choice against boredom, formerly stupidly strong 7% or 8% stuff which broke my head for the evening and most of the next day and ruined my insides. Once it became apparent that stuff was likely to kill me I switched to slightly weaker stuff, although I've just realised 6% isn't that much weaker. I'd get a 2l bottle of that and drink it over a couple of hours and get a nice buzz on without feeling out of control or getting terrible guts the next day. Still, it was too much and I've managed to get myself out of that habit recently. It's an interesting observation that I used visit the alcohol section of the local supermarket almost every day whereas now I almost deliberately avoid it, even when it crosses my mind to 'just have one small beer with dinner'. Astonishing really, as there's been no specific point where I've told myself to do this. I think one of the reasons is that I'd noticed myself getting grouchy and picky with my daughter and didn't want to act like that. When she first moved in I virtually cut out all drinking at home, but when she settled in and things became more familiar, I again slipped back into buying 'the occasional drink'. I put a stop to that, though and now I can't remember the last time I bought 2l of cider. I'm very proud of this and intend on extending the process to reign-in my drinking in social situations so I don't get catastrophically drunk.
I've stopped smoking cigarettes
This has been a work in progress for many years. Now I'm at the point where I can take or leave cigarettes and it's a great place to be. For years I was under their spell and slave to their drug and habit but I'm happy to say I very rarely have cravings. I only tend to smoke when I'm out drinking and occasionally have one at work or at home. When I do have one, I'm constantly aware of making myself smell terrible and this is a big contributing factor in ensuring I don't start again.
Continued in part 2...
Monday, December 14, 2009
Improvements
After a few days sleeping reasonably well and longer than in recent times, and a good long and breezy walk yesterday with my parents, I appear to be enjoying some clarity of thought and vision. Despite feeling like I could go back to bed for a few hours I definitely feel better and will continue with the routine of early to bed for daughter and I until we are back to normal.
For my birthday, my brother gave me a crate of 18 half-pint bottles of Stella Artois. My heart sank when he offered it to me because I've managed to reduce my alcohol intake quite considerably since the summer and I know how rubbish I am at not drinking when there's alcohol available. I've proven this by getting through sixteen bottles in nine days, along with eight bottles of Becks a friend brought round mid-week. 24 bottles in nine days, that's alcohol two and two-thirds bottles a day on average, which is less than a pint and a half. That doesn't sound right but put like that it's not as bad as I thought it was, although I dread to think how many calories that is. Actually, I just worked it out - it's around 2,650 calories. Christ, that's more than one whole day's calorie intake added over nine days.
I've made tenuous mental links in the past between beer and belly, and one of the reasons I think I haven't been putting on weight is because I'd massively reduced the amount of beer and cider I was drinking, but looking at it this way really brings a point home. Here's me worrying about stuff like crisps and cheese and fatty foods contributing the most to my porky figure, when alcohol seems to be a massive contributing factor and should get the same attitude and treatment - it should be an occasional treat and not part of everyday living. Even allowing myself two or three units a day looks like as many calories as a large packet of crisps and I've been working to cut those out of my diet too, at least bringing them back to 'treat' status as they should be.
I've proven recently that small changes can make a big difference. If I can recover my control over my alcohol intake, continue to eat more fresh food, more fibre and less fat and get back into the walking habit I won't have to work hard at losing my extra weight. Little steps, small changes. A journey of a thousand miles, and all that.
For my birthday, my brother gave me a crate of 18 half-pint bottles of Stella Artois. My heart sank when he offered it to me because I've managed to reduce my alcohol intake quite considerably since the summer and I know how rubbish I am at not drinking when there's alcohol available. I've proven this by getting through sixteen bottles in nine days, along with eight bottles of Becks a friend brought round mid-week. 24 bottles in nine days, that's alcohol two and two-thirds bottles a day on average, which is less than a pint and a half. That doesn't sound right but put like that it's not as bad as I thought it was, although I dread to think how many calories that is. Actually, I just worked it out - it's around 2,650 calories. Christ, that's more than one whole day's calorie intake added over nine days.
I've made tenuous mental links in the past between beer and belly, and one of the reasons I think I haven't been putting on weight is because I'd massively reduced the amount of beer and cider I was drinking, but looking at it this way really brings a point home. Here's me worrying about stuff like crisps and cheese and fatty foods contributing the most to my porky figure, when alcohol seems to be a massive contributing factor and should get the same attitude and treatment - it should be an occasional treat and not part of everyday living. Even allowing myself two or three units a day looks like as many calories as a large packet of crisps and I've been working to cut those out of my diet too, at least bringing them back to 'treat' status as they should be.
I've proven recently that small changes can make a big difference. If I can recover my control over my alcohol intake, continue to eat more fresh food, more fibre and less fat and get back into the walking habit I won't have to work hard at losing my extra weight. Little steps, small changes. A journey of a thousand miles, and all that.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Progress
insofar as I've managed to get to sleep by 9.20pm for two nights running. I've imposed an 8pm bedtime on daughter and she's been actively sticking to it, which is lovely as she obviously sees how important sleep is, not only for me but for her too. For the past fortnight she's been spaced out for the first ten minutes in the morning and I'm sure getting back into a reasonable sleep routine will give us both huge benefits.
I've felt a little better getting more than eight hours sleep. I've woken with thoughts such as 'That's more like it!' and 'Excellent!' which are a giant leap up from 'For fuck's sake, it's only Wednesday' and 'Zzzzzz'.
One of the unfortunate side effects of being too tired is that I'm not motivated to get my backside out of bed and get the day started. I used to be so good; my alarm would go off and I'd jump out of bed and straight in the shower or off for breakfast. For the past few months, however, I've lounged around on my mattress, reading the internet on my phone or letting Sky News depress me. I sincerely need to get out of this habit - and my bed - because it's limiting my productivity at home in the mornings. I'm not showering as often as I used to, I'm letting my beard grow longer more often, I'm not making daughter and I lunches like I should and I'm missing breakfast like a fool. Look how many positives there are in dragging my arse out of bed: I stay clean and fresh, I eat better and I save money on relatively expensive lunches! It's a no-brainer.
Hopefully, getting my sleep in order is the first step to recovering a lot of what's got away from me recently. It'll allow my brain to function at its peak - more like halfway up a steep hill - and give me the choice to make better decisions with greater clarity.
I've felt a little better getting more than eight hours sleep. I've woken with thoughts such as 'That's more like it!' and 'Excellent!' which are a giant leap up from 'For fuck's sake, it's only Wednesday' and 'Zzzzzz'.
One of the unfortunate side effects of being too tired is that I'm not motivated to get my backside out of bed and get the day started. I used to be so good; my alarm would go off and I'd jump out of bed and straight in the shower or off for breakfast. For the past few months, however, I've lounged around on my mattress, reading the internet on my phone or letting Sky News depress me. I sincerely need to get out of this habit - and my bed - because it's limiting my productivity at home in the mornings. I'm not showering as often as I used to, I'm letting my beard grow longer more often, I'm not making daughter and I lunches like I should and I'm missing breakfast like a fool. Look how many positives there are in dragging my arse out of bed: I stay clean and fresh, I eat better and I save money on relatively expensive lunches! It's a no-brainer.
Hopefully, getting my sleep in order is the first step to recovering a lot of what's got away from me recently. It'll allow my brain to function at its peak - more like halfway up a steep hill - and give me the choice to make better decisions with greater clarity.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Zzzzzz...
With the very best of intentions, there was no way I was going to get an early night last night no matter how hard I may try. I'd forgotten I was supposed to meet and hang out with a friend's Malaysian travelling friend who had arrived last week and I'd offered to babysit, as it were, while she went to a class. They arrived at six o'clock with a bag full of booze and a nice, polite, smart, interactive companion for the evening. Daughter, visitor and I spent most of the time laughing at the Wii I've borrowed from my brother and chatting about his travels and work and life in general. He's a nice guy and we got on well.
Unfortunately, our mutual friend didn't return from her class until around eleven, which was already two hours later than I'd liked to have put my head down. I'd planned the evening so badly I was really quite hungry by the time they left half an hour later so I had some pasta and a final bottle of beer, watched the end of Total Recall and eventually got to sleep just before half past midnight.
On top of feeling really tired anyway, I now feel like a stoned zombie downing Nytol with its head wrapped in pillows and whose thirst for brains is being steadily eroded and replaced with a thirst for Tempur mattresses and 15-tog duvets. Mmmmm... Metaphor...
I've forewarned daughter that I'll probably come straight home from work and jump into her bed for a couple of hours sleep. I must must must get this back under control because it's really effecting my motivation and enthusiasm for life. The only thing I can do to make it better is sleep more and, starting today, that's absolutely positively what I intend to do from now on including today and for the foreseeable future until I'm less tired and able to string coherent sentences together.
Unfortunately, our mutual friend didn't return from her class until around eleven, which was already two hours later than I'd liked to have put my head down. I'd planned the evening so badly I was really quite hungry by the time they left half an hour later so I had some pasta and a final bottle of beer, watched the end of Total Recall and eventually got to sleep just before half past midnight.
On top of feeling really tired anyway, I now feel like a stoned zombie downing Nytol with its head wrapped in pillows and whose thirst for brains is being steadily eroded and replaced with a thirst for Tempur mattresses and 15-tog duvets. Mmmmm... Metaphor...
I've forewarned daughter that I'll probably come straight home from work and jump into her bed for a couple of hours sleep. I must must must get this back under control because it's really effecting my motivation and enthusiasm for life. The only thing I can do to make it better is sleep more and, starting today, that's absolutely positively what I intend to do from now on including today and for the foreseeable future until I'm less tired and able to string coherent sentences together.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
I'm feeling particularly reflective today
- not that I'm wearing bright clothing or anything - and I'm quite attracted to the idea of sitting here at my desk, taking the occasional call while plugging away at my phone keypad and looking deep inside my tired soul.
I want to investigate how I feel about this whole situation with becoming a single parent. It's odd because until a couple of weeks ago I thought I was dealing with the mental side of things quite well, but it suddenly became apparent that I'd not really noticed the pressure I was putting myself under.
To quickly reel off a list of emotions associated with events since Easter, I've felt scared, sad, brilliantly happy, fulfilled, concerned, surprised, helpless, paternal, peaceful and complete.
There have been so many ups and downs it'd read like a script pitch for Hollyoaks if I wrote it all out. There have been many extremes of feelings and despite the fact it appears things have settled down, it still doesn't feel like I can allow myself to celebrate because there still seems like such a mountain to climb before everything is legal and binding. I'm still terrified her mum will dig her heels in and prevent everything going smoothly. I can honestly see her doing something as extreme as taking Sophie by force, or having me done over either physically or by some other means.
Perhaps this says as much about my confidence to handle being a parent and responsible adult as it does about my opinion on daughter's mother. My fears about my own ability haven't really been voiced as I feel they might be self-indulgent and not necessarily representative of how I really feel. Almost like if I voice these fears they'll become part of me and lead me in their direction.
Realistically, I do have concerns about my suitability to be a full time single parent. My form for the past two years has been better than ever, particularly since I finished my counselling, but there have definitely been a fair number of cock-ups and events of questionable behaviour. However, that is balanced by my unending solidity at home, in my being there for, and doing the right things by, my daughter in the time she needs me most. Despite occasional bad days, I'm a dependable father and I can be good fun and great company when the mood takes me. I've worked as much as possible to provide for her and made plans for a future together, both in terms of somewhere to live and a good steady hard-working income from a new business. I have the moral support of my family and friends and even some of daughter's extended family which is incredibly comforting that they have faith enough in us to give us their blessing.
On top of all of that, daughter seems immeasurably happier and more settled than when she first came to me at Easter. It's been an emotional rollercoaster for both of us but I can't begin to understand how hard it must be for daughter to deal with all this on a daily basis. She was promised that she could go home twice, only to be let down at the last minute. Her mother promised she'd sort her life out so she could take her kids back, but it never happened. She's gone from living with her mother, mum's boyfriend and her brother and sister to living with just me, Daddy, with my masculine ways and determination to de-embarrassify monthly periods, my creative methods of gentle punishment to establish rules and my somewhat-high-fat diet. She's coping amazingly well with the trials and tribulations of becoming a teenager and growing up along with all this family crap life's thrown at her, and she still finds time for a good hearty laugh every day. What a kid.
Good things and bad, but mostly good. I think I've spent too long dwelling on the negative aspects of the situation and need to man up a bit. Because, along with all the fears and frowns, bundled in with the uncertainty and happiness, I've gained a happy, bright daughter and she's found a reliable, settled father who's doing a much better job of caring for her than her mother has for a long, long time.
I want to investigate how I feel about this whole situation with becoming a single parent. It's odd because until a couple of weeks ago I thought I was dealing with the mental side of things quite well, but it suddenly became apparent that I'd not really noticed the pressure I was putting myself under.
To quickly reel off a list of emotions associated with events since Easter, I've felt scared, sad, brilliantly happy, fulfilled, concerned, surprised, helpless, paternal, peaceful and complete.
There have been so many ups and downs it'd read like a script pitch for Hollyoaks if I wrote it all out. There have been many extremes of feelings and despite the fact it appears things have settled down, it still doesn't feel like I can allow myself to celebrate because there still seems like such a mountain to climb before everything is legal and binding. I'm still terrified her mum will dig her heels in and prevent everything going smoothly. I can honestly see her doing something as extreme as taking Sophie by force, or having me done over either physically or by some other means.
Perhaps this says as much about my confidence to handle being a parent and responsible adult as it does about my opinion on daughter's mother. My fears about my own ability haven't really been voiced as I feel they might be self-indulgent and not necessarily representative of how I really feel. Almost like if I voice these fears they'll become part of me and lead me in their direction.
Realistically, I do have concerns about my suitability to be a full time single parent. My form for the past two years has been better than ever, particularly since I finished my counselling, but there have definitely been a fair number of cock-ups and events of questionable behaviour. However, that is balanced by my unending solidity at home, in my being there for, and doing the right things by, my daughter in the time she needs me most. Despite occasional bad days, I'm a dependable father and I can be good fun and great company when the mood takes me. I've worked as much as possible to provide for her and made plans for a future together, both in terms of somewhere to live and a good steady hard-working income from a new business. I have the moral support of my family and friends and even some of daughter's extended family which is incredibly comforting that they have faith enough in us to give us their blessing.
On top of all of that, daughter seems immeasurably happier and more settled than when she first came to me at Easter. It's been an emotional rollercoaster for both of us but I can't begin to understand how hard it must be for daughter to deal with all this on a daily basis. She was promised that she could go home twice, only to be let down at the last minute. Her mother promised she'd sort her life out so she could take her kids back, but it never happened. She's gone from living with her mother, mum's boyfriend and her brother and sister to living with just me, Daddy, with my masculine ways and determination to de-embarrassify monthly periods, my creative methods of gentle punishment to establish rules and my somewhat-high-fat diet. She's coping amazingly well with the trials and tribulations of becoming a teenager and growing up along with all this family crap life's thrown at her, and she still finds time for a good hearty laugh every day. What a kid.
Good things and bad, but mostly good. I think I've spent too long dwelling on the negative aspects of the situation and need to man up a bit. Because, along with all the fears and frowns, bundled in with the uncertainty and happiness, I've gained a happy, bright daughter and she's found a reliable, settled father who's doing a much better job of caring for her than her mother has for a long, long time.
Too tired
Too tired for words. Well, I say that, but here are some words anyway.
I stayed up late on Friday night for my birthday and got up early. I intended to sleep on Saturday but just as I closed my eyes for a three-hour snooze my brother called to take me over to our other brother's house for a birthday beer and a crack at Forza 3. I got to sleep at a reasonable hour Saturday night but got woken at 7.20am by the water system chugging away as my landlady took a shower.
Sunday was a lazy day and I'd hoped for a nap in the afternoon but got distracted by the Wii. Getting to bed early was a great idea but like a fool I stayed up and watched Happy Go Lucky until after midnight.
This was very, very stupid. After my late night Friday I should have done everything in my power to catch up on the lost sleep but I dithered and distracted and just plain didn't bother, and it cost me a day at work on Monday. Admittedly I could have and should have gone into work as I really can't afford the time off, but I hoped I could use the day to catch up again.
I started drifting off around 1pm. My phone rang at 1.30pm and woke me up. After I'd had a chat and hung up, I slipped back into sleep and awoke for no real reason less than half an hour later. I finally got down for a good night's sleep around 10pm, and even here I was distracting myself with the movie 'Ultraviolet' instead of getting my head down at 9pm like I could have done.
Irony of ironies, I was woken up at 5am this morning by a nightmare. I'd dreamed I was driving down a local road known for its fast sweeping bends. I was third in a queue of cars behind a van which was going around 50mph, and there were a number of cars behind me too. I could see the drivers in front getting impatient and we approached a wider-than-realistic stretch of sweeping corner which gave everyone an opportunity to overtake. I saw the drivers in front of me speeding up and moving out to pass the van, and a dark red Audi TT overtook me and made a wide pass on all of us in one go.
The TT's back end stepped out as it tried to turn back in and it crashed sideways into a gatepost with a lot of force. I pulled my car over and jumped out, noticing one person hanging out of an open door with their bleeding head resting on the ground. I was patting my pockets down for my phone so I could call the police but I couldn't find it. I stopped a passing car to ask them to call 999 when I noticed my phone had been in my hand all along.
I dialed and waited to be connected. Knowing the procedure reasonably well, I was trying to find out how many people were in the vehicle, who had what injuries, what people's names were etc. I wasn't getting anywhere with all this and I started to panic, and that's when I woke up feeling very strange indeed. Fortunately I managed to get back to sleep with relative ease but the feeling still unsettles me somewhat.
As a recent post alluded to, I've been tired for a while but I feel bloody terrible for it now, I really do. I'm close to tears just writing this out, which is a warning sign. I've noticed certain minor self-destructive behaviours establishing themselves, specifically to do with diet and sleep. I know I'm eating badly when I put the food in my mouth but I ignore it. I know I should get to sleep earlier but I avoid my common sense thinking and stay up late, which makes me feel worse and compounds any problems I'm already having. I've procrastinated on getting things sorted both financially and legally for daughter and I, and I beat myself up for that quite a lot.
It's just dawning on me the scale of what I'm facing here. At the moment it's small but it has massive potential to fuck me up. The words 'I need to talk to somebody' have crossed my mind a few times over the past few days, and I think now is the time to act upon that.
Along with that, I've mentioned here quite a few times that I need to exercise more, sort my diet out and get more sleep. I really need to act on these ideas but my motivation has taken a nose-dive since the nights drew in and I took on the mental pressure associated with taking my daughter on full time. I know all these warning signs point to something which scares the shit out of me - the return of my depression. If only 1% of that horrible feeling threatens to manifest itself within me, it scares me silly. Christ, it scares me.
There are a few things I need to be thankful for, though. I've contacted my solicitor with a view to starting the legal process of taking my daughter on full time. I've got forms sorted for housing benefit, and a copy birth certificate for daughter so I can apply for Child Benefit. I've made in-roads to getting Christmas sorted, and I've even managed to save a little money which will go towards gifts.
Also, I notice these warning signs now. A year or more ago I'd have just buried my head in the sand and let myself spiral into horrible self-destructive darkness, but I'm more prepared to do something about it now. This is definitely a good thing, as long as I'm true to myself and feel like I deserve to follow through with what I need to do to feel like myself again.
I stayed up late on Friday night for my birthday and got up early. I intended to sleep on Saturday but just as I closed my eyes for a three-hour snooze my brother called to take me over to our other brother's house for a birthday beer and a crack at Forza 3. I got to sleep at a reasonable hour Saturday night but got woken at 7.20am by the water system chugging away as my landlady took a shower.
Sunday was a lazy day and I'd hoped for a nap in the afternoon but got distracted by the Wii. Getting to bed early was a great idea but like a fool I stayed up and watched Happy Go Lucky until after midnight.
This was very, very stupid. After my late night Friday I should have done everything in my power to catch up on the lost sleep but I dithered and distracted and just plain didn't bother, and it cost me a day at work on Monday. Admittedly I could have and should have gone into work as I really can't afford the time off, but I hoped I could use the day to catch up again.
I started drifting off around 1pm. My phone rang at 1.30pm and woke me up. After I'd had a chat and hung up, I slipped back into sleep and awoke for no real reason less than half an hour later. I finally got down for a good night's sleep around 10pm, and even here I was distracting myself with the movie 'Ultraviolet' instead of getting my head down at 9pm like I could have done.
Irony of ironies, I was woken up at 5am this morning by a nightmare. I'd dreamed I was driving down a local road known for its fast sweeping bends. I was third in a queue of cars behind a van which was going around 50mph, and there were a number of cars behind me too. I could see the drivers in front getting impatient and we approached a wider-than-realistic stretch of sweeping corner which gave everyone an opportunity to overtake. I saw the drivers in front of me speeding up and moving out to pass the van, and a dark red Audi TT overtook me and made a wide pass on all of us in one go.
The TT's back end stepped out as it tried to turn back in and it crashed sideways into a gatepost with a lot of force. I pulled my car over and jumped out, noticing one person hanging out of an open door with their bleeding head resting on the ground. I was patting my pockets down for my phone so I could call the police but I couldn't find it. I stopped a passing car to ask them to call 999 when I noticed my phone had been in my hand all along.
I dialed and waited to be connected. Knowing the procedure reasonably well, I was trying to find out how many people were in the vehicle, who had what injuries, what people's names were etc. I wasn't getting anywhere with all this and I started to panic, and that's when I woke up feeling very strange indeed. Fortunately I managed to get back to sleep with relative ease but the feeling still unsettles me somewhat.
As a recent post alluded to, I've been tired for a while but I feel bloody terrible for it now, I really do. I'm close to tears just writing this out, which is a warning sign. I've noticed certain minor self-destructive behaviours establishing themselves, specifically to do with diet and sleep. I know I'm eating badly when I put the food in my mouth but I ignore it. I know I should get to sleep earlier but I avoid my common sense thinking and stay up late, which makes me feel worse and compounds any problems I'm already having. I've procrastinated on getting things sorted both financially and legally for daughter and I, and I beat myself up for that quite a lot.
It's just dawning on me the scale of what I'm facing here. At the moment it's small but it has massive potential to fuck me up. The words 'I need to talk to somebody' have crossed my mind a few times over the past few days, and I think now is the time to act upon that.
Along with that, I've mentioned here quite a few times that I need to exercise more, sort my diet out and get more sleep. I really need to act on these ideas but my motivation has taken a nose-dive since the nights drew in and I took on the mental pressure associated with taking my daughter on full time. I know all these warning signs point to something which scares the shit out of me - the return of my depression. If only 1% of that horrible feeling threatens to manifest itself within me, it scares me silly. Christ, it scares me.
There are a few things I need to be thankful for, though. I've contacted my solicitor with a view to starting the legal process of taking my daughter on full time. I've got forms sorted for housing benefit, and a copy birth certificate for daughter so I can apply for Child Benefit. I've made in-roads to getting Christmas sorted, and I've even managed to save a little money which will go towards gifts.
Also, I notice these warning signs now. A year or more ago I'd have just buried my head in the sand and let myself spiral into horrible self-destructive darkness, but I'm more prepared to do something about it now. This is definitely a good thing, as long as I'm true to myself and feel like I deserve to follow through with what I need to do to feel like myself again.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Dear daughter
Last night when I was filling your hot water bottle and you touched my hand to show me how cold you were, you pushed slightly and I spilled boiling water on my thumb. It was only a little and fortunately it didn't burn, but the stupidity of what you did really surprised me. I shouted at you and sent you out of the room so I didn't lose my temper and really shout at you. When I raised my hand to point you out of the room you thought I was going to hit you. When you told me this I was shocked and tried to hard to comfort you and tell you that I'd never do that and that anyone who hit you was wrong.
You cried as you told me of times recent and past when your mother had hit you around the face with her hand, or around the head with a hairbrush, or on the arm with a sharp knife which made you bleed, for trivial domestic infractions such as dropping washing baskets down stairs or dropping ketchup on her foot. You were so scared I was going to hit you that it really troubled me. You said these things happened quite often when you lived with your mum, that you got most of the punishment, your brother got some and your sister never got any. You also said that your stepdad kicked you in the stomach a couple of times and that when he and your mum were together, he was more likely to target your brother and sister while your mum would take her aggression out on you.
I've known for a while that these angry episodes happened every now and again, just from things you've told me over the years. I've never felt able to do anything to help simply because I thought they were much less frequent than they obviously were. Had I known you were being treated like this on a regular basis I'd have done something about it, and even now you're out of that situation I still feel helpless because I'm sure I can't talk to you about it without it sounding like a lecture.
You are a bright, clever, sweet and honest person, on the brink of teenagehood, mature but still very much a child, and it tears me apart inside that you've been treated like this. You simply don't deserve it. It upsets me because I know how violence hurts, not just with physical pain but with mental anguish, fear and blaming yourself. It can lead to accepting this kind of violence as normal, and I can't imagine your life ever being filled with all this fear and pain.
I will never hit you. I may shout, I may mutter and grumble and punish you in meaningful and creative ways, but I'll never hit you and I'll try my hardest to prevent you from being in that situation again. I've already committed to taking you on full-time and being your parent and in the process of doing that legally, I may need to tell the people who make these big decisions what you told me above. I know this scares you and you don't want your mother knowing you've been 'telling tales' or want her punished in any way, and that's not the reason I'd tell anyone. I'd only tell a solicitor or judge because I think they need to know the whole picture to make a reliable and informed decision about your future.
I hope this sets your mind at rest somewhat. I've already encouraged you to talk to your counsellor about the nasty things that have happened because I think it's important you come to terms with them. These things have a habit of coming back to bite you when you're older so it would be good for you to try and work through it soon.
As ever, I'm always here to talk to, about anything you want to talk about. Even if you can't talk to me, I can find someone you can.
Love, as always
Daddy x
(Unsent)
You cried as you told me of times recent and past when your mother had hit you around the face with her hand, or around the head with a hairbrush, or on the arm with a sharp knife which made you bleed, for trivial domestic infractions such as dropping washing baskets down stairs or dropping ketchup on her foot. You were so scared I was going to hit you that it really troubled me. You said these things happened quite often when you lived with your mum, that you got most of the punishment, your brother got some and your sister never got any. You also said that your stepdad kicked you in the stomach a couple of times and that when he and your mum were together, he was more likely to target your brother and sister while your mum would take her aggression out on you.
I've known for a while that these angry episodes happened every now and again, just from things you've told me over the years. I've never felt able to do anything to help simply because I thought they were much less frequent than they obviously were. Had I known you were being treated like this on a regular basis I'd have done something about it, and even now you're out of that situation I still feel helpless because I'm sure I can't talk to you about it without it sounding like a lecture.
You are a bright, clever, sweet and honest person, on the brink of teenagehood, mature but still very much a child, and it tears me apart inside that you've been treated like this. You simply don't deserve it. It upsets me because I know how violence hurts, not just with physical pain but with mental anguish, fear and blaming yourself. It can lead to accepting this kind of violence as normal, and I can't imagine your life ever being filled with all this fear and pain.
I will never hit you. I may shout, I may mutter and grumble and punish you in meaningful and creative ways, but I'll never hit you and I'll try my hardest to prevent you from being in that situation again. I've already committed to taking you on full-time and being your parent and in the process of doing that legally, I may need to tell the people who make these big decisions what you told me above. I know this scares you and you don't want your mother knowing you've been 'telling tales' or want her punished in any way, and that's not the reason I'd tell anyone. I'd only tell a solicitor or judge because I think they need to know the whole picture to make a reliable and informed decision about your future.
I hope this sets your mind at rest somewhat. I've already encouraged you to talk to your counsellor about the nasty things that have happened because I think it's important you come to terms with them. These things have a habit of coming back to bite you when you're older so it would be good for you to try and work through it soon.
As ever, I'm always here to talk to, about anything you want to talk about. Even if you can't talk to me, I can find someone you can.
Love, as always
Daddy x
(Unsent)
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Irony schmirony
Ten minutes after my last post, I plucked up the courage to email my solicitor and get things moving legally. It felt great to finally hit 'Send' and take control of the situation. I got a reply immediately - an autoreply at least. She's out of the office this week and won't be back until Monday. Haha! I think there's a lesson to be learned there, and I think it's something to do with procrastination being counter-productive or somesuch. I dunno.
Under pressure
I am still procrastinating over starting this whole legal and local process of taking daughter on full time. There's solicitors to set in motion to get Parental Responsibility and start thinking about getting a Residency Order. There's teachers and heads of year to contact to let them know I'm on the case with her educational progress and ask for help if it's needed. There's forms to fill in which open up my simple finances for all to see, and forms for all manner of benefit and housing applications to be made.
And there, hovering in the background like a scorpion ready to strike is daughter's mother, who's finally contacted our daughter after a few weeks being incommunicado. Her first interaction with her daughter in more than a month and it's full of lies - 'my phone was broken, I lost my free texts blah blah fucking blah.' Yes, you managed to text me two days after your phone broke so I know you're full of shit. Don't lie to your daughter because now she comes to accept it as fact and rarely trusts anything you say.
It's eating away at me now that I'm stalling and putting it off. It almost feels slightly self-destructive and it's the first time I've felt anything like that since I finished my counselling. This in its own right scares me quite a lot. It's comforting that I recognise the warning signs and now I'm in a position to do something about it. That something is pulling my finger out and starting the balls rolling on these applications and processes. That analogy paints a picture in my mind - that once I've put the effort in and started the balls rolling, their momentum will carry them some way until I need to give them a little push in the right direction.
I am very scared. It's only been over the past couple of weeks that I've felt the walls closing in somewhat, both in a metaphysical sense and one of metaphor. I hadn't realised until recently how the pressure and responsibility of suddenly becoming a full-time father has effected me. I also keep coming back to the housing situation and the fact that I don't really have any personal space or 'me time'. My small house feels incredibly small now there's another person living there and as much as I'd never, ever turn her away, I'd really like to sleep in a proper bed with a proper duvet instead of a sleeping bag and proper pillows instead of the rubbish ones I'm using.
I suppose though that these latter matters are trivial and transient to say the least. If I get on the case, new accommodation is simply a few months and a professional decision away and will be backed-up wholly by social services, so if I can deal with things for a time it should settle down eventually.
As far as the pressure and responsibility are concerned, I'm more than happy to take them on in return for the incredible gift of having my daughter around every day. She's just such a beacon of brightness and amusement, so thoughtful and kind. Oh, but there's the catch I think. Remembering how horrible and eternal the pain was when she first moved out with her mum nearly twelve years ago, I'm terrified I'll have to watch her leave again if her mother digs her claws in and decides she wants her back.
And there, hovering in the background like a scorpion ready to strike is daughter's mother, who's finally contacted our daughter after a few weeks being incommunicado. Her first interaction with her daughter in more than a month and it's full of lies - 'my phone was broken, I lost my free texts blah blah fucking blah.' Yes, you managed to text me two days after your phone broke so I know you're full of shit. Don't lie to your daughter because now she comes to accept it as fact and rarely trusts anything you say.
It's eating away at me now that I'm stalling and putting it off. It almost feels slightly self-destructive and it's the first time I've felt anything like that since I finished my counselling. This in its own right scares me quite a lot. It's comforting that I recognise the warning signs and now I'm in a position to do something about it. That something is pulling my finger out and starting the balls rolling on these applications and processes. That analogy paints a picture in my mind - that once I've put the effort in and started the balls rolling, their momentum will carry them some way until I need to give them a little push in the right direction.
I am very scared. It's only been over the past couple of weeks that I've felt the walls closing in somewhat, both in a metaphysical sense and one of metaphor. I hadn't realised until recently how the pressure and responsibility of suddenly becoming a full-time father has effected me. I also keep coming back to the housing situation and the fact that I don't really have any personal space or 'me time'. My small house feels incredibly small now there's another person living there and as much as I'd never, ever turn her away, I'd really like to sleep in a proper bed with a proper duvet instead of a sleeping bag and proper pillows instead of the rubbish ones I'm using.
I suppose though that these latter matters are trivial and transient to say the least. If I get on the case, new accommodation is simply a few months and a professional decision away and will be backed-up wholly by social services, so if I can deal with things for a time it should settle down eventually.
As far as the pressure and responsibility are concerned, I'm more than happy to take them on in return for the incredible gift of having my daughter around every day. She's just such a beacon of brightness and amusement, so thoughtful and kind. Oh, but there's the catch I think. Remembering how horrible and eternal the pain was when she first moved out with her mum nearly twelve years ago, I'm terrified I'll have to watch her leave again if her mother digs her claws in and decides she wants her back.
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