When my eldest sister got married (to an absolute arse hole - another post for another day), and it was just her and Dad sat at home waiting for the wedding car, Dad gave her an 'out'. He told her she didn't have to go through with the wedding, she could take her frock off, polish off the Vodka with Dad and leave everyone else to figure out what had happened. She chose to get married.
On the morning of my wedding I knew I was making the biggest mistake of my life. I had spent the entire week trying to work out what I could do to cancel, postpone, vanish.... I knew it would all be ok in the end though. I knew my Dad, my Hero, would make things ok. He would offer me the same 'out' as he had my sister. No reason required - just an 'out'. It never came.
We waited for the wedding car, just Dad and I. he told me how proud he was of me. He told me how much he & Mum adored Mr H - the son they had never had. I cried as he walked me down the aisle. I cried as I saw the faces of my family and friends. I cried when I saw the 4 friends who had stayed at our home on the night of the stag party.
Yet everyone else was so very happy.
I made my vows in front of God and in saying each and every word I made a commitment to make this marriage work, for better or worse. How bloody true those words were.
So there it happened, I became Mrs H.
I worked at being Mrs H for 3 years. The events of the evening of the Stag party were repeated many times - each time I convinced myself it would be the last. Gone was the selfish, naive and conceited young lady and in her place was me, Mrs H. Too proud and ashamed to admit what was happening.
Then I met Mr M.
Friday, 6 March 2009
Would the real Mrs M please stand up? part 5
I doesn't seem right leaving that last post without some sort of explaination.
I am not a victim in this in any way, shape or form so forgive me it it seems I am claiming to be. All of my life I have made my own choices, granted they have not always been the right ones, but I've lived by the choices that I've made. Whilst not a victim per say, I was young, naive, conceited and utterly, utterly deluded.
7 days before getting married I made the choice to carry on, to tell no-one, to act like it had never happened. Funnily enough, Mr M made the very same choice. IOt was never mentioned between us - ever. One horrendous incident was not going to spoil everything. We all do things we later live to regret and I honestly believed that the events of that night would never be repeated.
I am not a victim in this in any way, shape or form so forgive me it it seems I am claiming to be. All of my life I have made my own choices, granted they have not always been the right ones, but I've lived by the choices that I've made. Whilst not a victim per say, I was young, naive, conceited and utterly, utterly deluded.
7 days before getting married I made the choice to carry on, to tell no-one, to act like it had never happened. Funnily enough, Mr M made the very same choice. IOt was never mentioned between us - ever. One horrendous incident was not going to spoil everything. We all do things we later live to regret and I honestly believed that the events of that night would never be repeated.
Would the real Mrs M please stand up? Part 4
Some people might say that I'm a bit anal about things. I like to think I'm organised.
Planning a huge wedding was a dream come true for me, I was able to indulge in lists, time lines and budgets. The little monster inside of me was able to pop up now and again and I could excuse it as wedding planning stress. People humoured me but to be honest I can say I must have been a nightmare to live and work with.
In the time it took me to plan my big day I fell in love with the idea of getting married and I fell out of love with the man I was marrying. As a couple we became more and more disjointed and towards our wedding day, getting married was the only thing we talked about. Apart from a huge circle of friends, we had nothing else in common. I put it all down to last minute jitters, but in my heart of hearts I knew we should not have been getting married.
I planned my own hen night (yes, I am so anal that I wouldn't let anyone else plan it) and Mr H planned his Stag party. I went for quiet and classy. He hired a whole pub and 3 private strippers - not quiet nor classy as I was to discover when he returned that night.
Mr H had never been stable mentally and at times people admitted to never knowing if he was joking or serious - I maintain to this day he was always deadly serious. Underneath the happy-go-lucky character that was/is Mr H lies something much darker, much more sinister. Something that had only appeared in fleeting moments prior to the night of his stag party.
Mr H and several friends returned from his stag party, the mood was eerily sedate. Whilst his friends were very intoxicated, Mr H appeared strangely sober. He was angry but trying not to show it. I made the mistake of asking about the evenings events. I made the mistake of ranting at him when his friends revealed there had been strippers at the party. I made the mistake of laughing at him when his friends revealed some of the details of the evening - as the 'stag' the strippers had teased and ridiculed Mr H in front of all of his friends, that's why he was angry.
We argued and his friends went to bed, obviously embarrassed and uncomfortable with the sitaution.
I'd always thought of myself as being the dominant one in our relationship. I'd always seen myself as better than Mr M. I was the academic one, I was the one bringing in the money, paying the bills, buying nice clothes, holidays. I felt very secure in my position of matriarch and if I'm honest I'd used this to keep Mr H in his place, to control him. At the time I didn't see it like that, I just thought I deserved a bit of respect and that he should show some gratitude. Remember that I was naive and conceited.
When we argued I had no hesitation in pointing out all of this toMr H and his shortcoming.
I guess that night I over stepped the mark, pushed all the wrong buttons.
That night everything changed.
I learned that Mr H was not the man I thought he was, nor was I the strong and independent woman I thought I was.
I was beaten and violated in ways that no person should ever be. Everything that was me and mine was taken from me that night, those few hours destroyed everything sacred and precious. In my own home, with the man I was about to marry, with four of his friends upstairs.
In the morning nothing was said, by anyone - yet each and every one of us knew what had happened.
Life carried on.
I was getting married in 7 days.
Planning a huge wedding was a dream come true for me, I was able to indulge in lists, time lines and budgets. The little monster inside of me was able to pop up now and again and I could excuse it as wedding planning stress. People humoured me but to be honest I can say I must have been a nightmare to live and work with.
In the time it took me to plan my big day I fell in love with the idea of getting married and I fell out of love with the man I was marrying. As a couple we became more and more disjointed and towards our wedding day, getting married was the only thing we talked about. Apart from a huge circle of friends, we had nothing else in common. I put it all down to last minute jitters, but in my heart of hearts I knew we should not have been getting married.
I planned my own hen night (yes, I am so anal that I wouldn't let anyone else plan it) and Mr H planned his Stag party. I went for quiet and classy. He hired a whole pub and 3 private strippers - not quiet nor classy as I was to discover when he returned that night.
Mr H had never been stable mentally and at times people admitted to never knowing if he was joking or serious - I maintain to this day he was always deadly serious. Underneath the happy-go-lucky character that was/is Mr H lies something much darker, much more sinister. Something that had only appeared in fleeting moments prior to the night of his stag party.
Mr H and several friends returned from his stag party, the mood was eerily sedate. Whilst his friends were very intoxicated, Mr H appeared strangely sober. He was angry but trying not to show it. I made the mistake of asking about the evenings events. I made the mistake of ranting at him when his friends revealed there had been strippers at the party. I made the mistake of laughing at him when his friends revealed some of the details of the evening - as the 'stag' the strippers had teased and ridiculed Mr H in front of all of his friends, that's why he was angry.
We argued and his friends went to bed, obviously embarrassed and uncomfortable with the sitaution.
I'd always thought of myself as being the dominant one in our relationship. I'd always seen myself as better than Mr M. I was the academic one, I was the one bringing in the money, paying the bills, buying nice clothes, holidays. I felt very secure in my position of matriarch and if I'm honest I'd used this to keep Mr H in his place, to control him. At the time I didn't see it like that, I just thought I deserved a bit of respect and that he should show some gratitude. Remember that I was naive and conceited.
When we argued I had no hesitation in pointing out all of this toMr H and his shortcoming.
I guess that night I over stepped the mark, pushed all the wrong buttons.
That night everything changed.
I learned that Mr H was not the man I thought he was, nor was I the strong and independent woman I thought I was.
I was beaten and violated in ways that no person should ever be. Everything that was me and mine was taken from me that night, those few hours destroyed everything sacred and precious. In my own home, with the man I was about to marry, with four of his friends upstairs.
In the morning nothing was said, by anyone - yet each and every one of us knew what had happened.
Life carried on.
I was getting married in 7 days.
Thursday, 5 March 2009
Feeling very sorry for myself
Last summer I was diagnosed with Erythema Nodosum (sound like a Harry Potter spell don't you think?).
After 3 months of agonising pain I was given the correct treatment. I had a mild outbreak again in November, I started treatment right away and within a week the symptoms were gone.
I've felt quite low for a week or two - both mentally and physically - then on Tuesday it hit. My joints are burning and feel fused. My shins hurt like the worst shin splints ever, getting up in the morning is a battle. If it wasn't so painful it would be funny watching me trying to change Dora or fasten Lola's shoes - imagine baby Giraffe trying to stand up for the first time.......
So I'm back on the steroids and Zinc bandages (oh, the smell) and hope that they are effective.
I hate feeling like this.
Oh and I forgot to mention that I'm on total bed rest - I love a doctor with a sense of humour!
After 3 months of agonising pain I was given the correct treatment. I had a mild outbreak again in November, I started treatment right away and within a week the symptoms were gone.
I've felt quite low for a week or two - both mentally and physically - then on Tuesday it hit. My joints are burning and feel fused. My shins hurt like the worst shin splints ever, getting up in the morning is a battle. If it wasn't so painful it would be funny watching me trying to change Dora or fasten Lola's shoes - imagine baby Giraffe trying to stand up for the first time.......
So I'm back on the steroids and Zinc bandages (oh, the smell) and hope that they are effective.
I hate feeling like this.
Oh and I forgot to mention that I'm on total bed rest - I love a doctor with a sense of humour!
Tuesday, 3 March 2009
When the big hand
points to the twelve and the little hand points to the four - it's four o'clock. The time that you Cruella, should drop the boys off. Not 4.30pm, 5pm or even 5.30pm. It's 4pm!
So what part of this exactly don't you understand? The original order states 6pm, but you couldn't be bothered to feed the boys a cooked meal, so you concocted some story about having to take Randall's kids home and you didn't want to have to go out twice - they live around the corner from you for freaks sake!!
Anyway, being the decent and responsible parents that we are, we negotiated 4pm at your request. Every other week I cook our Sunday lunch at tea time and to be honest I'm sick of it being ruined waiting for you to get off your fat, lazy arse and bring the boys.
How about you try to get here at 4pm next week?
So what part of this exactly don't you understand? The original order states 6pm, but you couldn't be bothered to feed the boys a cooked meal, so you concocted some story about having to take Randall's kids home and you didn't want to have to go out twice - they live around the corner from you for freaks sake!!
Anyway, being the decent and responsible parents that we are, we negotiated 4pm at your request. Every other week I cook our Sunday lunch at tea time and to be honest I'm sick of it being ruined waiting for you to get off your fat, lazy arse and bring the boys.
How about you try to get here at 4pm next week?
Monday, 2 March 2009
Would the real Mrs M please stand up? Part 3
Becoming Mrs H.
The last part of my previous post wasn't quite true - I didn't meet Mr H when I was 14. I met Mr H when I was 11, I became his girlfriend when I was 14.
Mr H loved school, just as much as I hated it. Where he failed, I excelled. He was loud, funny and popular, I wasn't. When he asked me to the youth club disco, I accepted.
Things hadn't been good at home, my parents were suffering from depression after my sisters had lied to them, stolen from them and their friends, refused all offers of help (this still makes me laugh. My parents had no money, yet they were prepared to take out a loan to pay for my sisters to go into a detox programme - which they refused) and ended up in prison.
My parents still functioned in the sense that they got up every morning, they went to work, they cooked meals. But they didn't seem interested in us as a family anymore. I guess they felt somehow responsible and vulnerable - perhaps they thought I would hurt them in the same way?
Anyway, given the situation at home and the fact that at 14 I still hadn't started puberty, was not pretty, did not have long blonde hair, did wear second hand clothes - I decided that Mr H (also 14) was a pretty good catch. The fact that he too was no oil painting (buck teeth and acne) and he didn't come from a rich family and was not the star of the school football team made him all the more appealing to me - I'd have no competition.
Funnily enough we were good together. Everyone loved Mr H and in time they loved me too. Don't get me wrong, we were never the golden couple, but In Mr H I had found a family again, his parents and sisters were amazing.
The years passed and I continued to be Mr H's Girlfriend. He left school at 16 - to become an apprentice milk man (if you knew him you would be laughing too). I continued with school, applied to university and was given an unconditional offer to study forensic science. I had ambition, I wanted a better future for myself than my parents had had - Mr H didn't. I had a choice to make and I made it. I left school 3 weeks before I was due to sit my A levels - My parents were devastated, I felt very grown up.
My first job was as an apprentice Butcher - I became vegetarian. I left the butchers and I became a carer. Mr H and I bought our first (and only) home when we were almost 19years old. We took a mortgage for £19K and committed to paying it back at £96 per month. He left his job the day we signed for our mortgage.
I applied to university to study Nursing and was accepted. I started the course a year later. Mr H still had no job, so I worked 4 jobs and studied on a full time course. Again, I made a conscious choice. I could have walked away, we could have managed without me working so much, but to be honest it suited me. I liked having a nice home, with brand new thing in - bought and paid for in full - I strove to reject everything about my childhood. I became a snob.
I only wore designer clothes, my shoes cost more than my dad earned in a week. We had 3 to 4 foreign holidays a year. I bought my food from Marks and Sparks and took greatest pleasure in rubbing my parents' nose in all of this at any given opportunity. You see I had made a choice - never to be like them. I didn't think that their lives and what they had achieved was worth anything, I only saw their failings. I now know that they had never failed, it was us, their children that they fought tooth and nail for, who failed them.
I wanted to do things right. I wanted a good job, a nice house, nice clothes, new car.... I wanted my parents to be proud of me, but more importantly I wanted them to envy everything I had achieved. Naive and conceited - not a good combination.
Mr H and I decided to get married - no big proposal, we just decided. Of course it would be the biggest affair our village had seen. I was 20yrs old and planning the biggest day of my life. There would be no expense spared. I didn't expect my parents to pay for my wedding - by this point they were paying for the huge debts racked up by my sisters - when they offered to pay 1/3 of the cost I let them, after adding a few extras. You can add selfish to my list of personality traits.
Not everything in the garden was rosy. Cracks had started to open up in my relationship with Mr H. He was a drinker and as he didn't have a job he had plenty of time to drink. Don't get me wrong, it kind of suited me this way. He had his life and I had mine. I was earning good money and as long as he had a few bob for a couple of pints he was happy. But with the drinking came the depression and the anger. As I was to discover on the night of his Stag party.
The last part of my previous post wasn't quite true - I didn't meet Mr H when I was 14. I met Mr H when I was 11, I became his girlfriend when I was 14.
Mr H loved school, just as much as I hated it. Where he failed, I excelled. He was loud, funny and popular, I wasn't. When he asked me to the youth club disco, I accepted.
Things hadn't been good at home, my parents were suffering from depression after my sisters had lied to them, stolen from them and their friends, refused all offers of help (this still makes me laugh. My parents had no money, yet they were prepared to take out a loan to pay for my sisters to go into a detox programme - which they refused) and ended up in prison.
My parents still functioned in the sense that they got up every morning, they went to work, they cooked meals. But they didn't seem interested in us as a family anymore. I guess they felt somehow responsible and vulnerable - perhaps they thought I would hurt them in the same way?
Anyway, given the situation at home and the fact that at 14 I still hadn't started puberty, was not pretty, did not have long blonde hair, did wear second hand clothes - I decided that Mr H (also 14) was a pretty good catch. The fact that he too was no oil painting (buck teeth and acne) and he didn't come from a rich family and was not the star of the school football team made him all the more appealing to me - I'd have no competition.
Funnily enough we were good together. Everyone loved Mr H and in time they loved me too. Don't get me wrong, we were never the golden couple, but In Mr H I had found a family again, his parents and sisters were amazing.
The years passed and I continued to be Mr H's Girlfriend. He left school at 16 - to become an apprentice milk man (if you knew him you would be laughing too). I continued with school, applied to university and was given an unconditional offer to study forensic science. I had ambition, I wanted a better future for myself than my parents had had - Mr H didn't. I had a choice to make and I made it. I left school 3 weeks before I was due to sit my A levels - My parents were devastated, I felt very grown up.
My first job was as an apprentice Butcher - I became vegetarian. I left the butchers and I became a carer. Mr H and I bought our first (and only) home when we were almost 19years old. We took a mortgage for £19K and committed to paying it back at £96 per month. He left his job the day we signed for our mortgage.
I applied to university to study Nursing and was accepted. I started the course a year later. Mr H still had no job, so I worked 4 jobs and studied on a full time course. Again, I made a conscious choice. I could have walked away, we could have managed without me working so much, but to be honest it suited me. I liked having a nice home, with brand new thing in - bought and paid for in full - I strove to reject everything about my childhood. I became a snob.
I only wore designer clothes, my shoes cost more than my dad earned in a week. We had 3 to 4 foreign holidays a year. I bought my food from Marks and Sparks and took greatest pleasure in rubbing my parents' nose in all of this at any given opportunity. You see I had made a choice - never to be like them. I didn't think that their lives and what they had achieved was worth anything, I only saw their failings. I now know that they had never failed, it was us, their children that they fought tooth and nail for, who failed them.
I wanted to do things right. I wanted a good job, a nice house, nice clothes, new car.... I wanted my parents to be proud of me, but more importantly I wanted them to envy everything I had achieved. Naive and conceited - not a good combination.
Mr H and I decided to get married - no big proposal, we just decided. Of course it would be the biggest affair our village had seen. I was 20yrs old and planning the biggest day of my life. There would be no expense spared. I didn't expect my parents to pay for my wedding - by this point they were paying for the huge debts racked up by my sisters - when they offered to pay 1/3 of the cost I let them, after adding a few extras. You can add selfish to my list of personality traits.
Not everything in the garden was rosy. Cracks had started to open up in my relationship with Mr H. He was a drinker and as he didn't have a job he had plenty of time to drink. Don't get me wrong, it kind of suited me this way. He had his life and I had mine. I was earning good money and as long as he had a few bob for a couple of pints he was happy. But with the drinking came the depression and the anger. As I was to discover on the night of his Stag party.
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