This too shall pass.

Feb 19, 2012 20:26

I am feeling the need to update. To really pour my heart out. I am feeling defeated.

I have been in Wales this week. My half term. My week off to spend with my fiancé because I barely see him. And I spent most of it with his bloody mental family.

For those who missed it, they went mental again at Christmas. Actually hurt us both with insane, immature, unfair behaviour. Eventual apologies were made in January but I still feel let-down. Like they knew better, like we were owed more than that.

I know you don't give to receive, but I actually feel like I invested a lot of myself in establishing really meaningful relationships with all of them. The lengths I went to for his Mum, the effort I put in while he was away for her birthday and at Christmas, the phone calls I made, the care I really tried to show, the visits I had from her and his brother.

And then to be told we put her second best? Oh fuck off.

I have stopped trying. I'll no longer go out of my way, laugh at jokes I don't find funny, accept gifts I don't want. Why should I?
I'll do the bare minimum and I'll do it for Dave.

It's like hanging out with a group of seven year olds. For example, I can guarantee that during any given meal time, these exchanges will take place:

Someone will comment on Geth not eating any vegetables and use the phrase "Never trust a green thing."
Someone will ask them to pass the gravy and someone else will respond "If I could pass gravy, I'd be working for Bisto."
They will refer to dessert as "tudding". Just. Why?
Jayne will begin and continue a charade that she made the clearly shop bought Tesco dessert. "I even moulded the plastic container. Ha ha ha. And I printed the label. Ha ha ha. Shall I keep the box so I can make another one? Ha ha ha."

I am not exagerrating.

Every. Single. Motherfucking. Mealtime.

Is it me? Should this be heartwarming and hilarious? Should I do as Dave does, polititely laughing it off and yeah-yeah-ing? Does it actually only drive me insane because I feel it is all a mask for their fundamentally unhappy, dysfunctional reality? It's like a script they have to follow just so they'll have something to say to each other.

Whatever the reason, I find mealtimes fucking exhausting.

I find Wales tiring and claustrophobic. I feel uncomfortable there, like everything that made it once sweet and calm and comforting has gone and moved on or changed. My home, while I love Hayd and my Mum, is somewhere I refuse to visit on my own.

When I go home, I am at the will of everyone else. I've wanted to see my baby boy twins on every visit there in the past year, but the things that we actually want to do are never prioritised. I want to sit on the cliff and remember the night times that we giggled there as teenagers in our Halloween costumes. I want to breathe in the view of the valley down below and remember the place that has shaped me into who I am. I want to go to the graveyard and cry. Those places remain untouched, unlike literally everything else.

It's actually rather painful to realise that your home isn't somewhere you consider home anymore.

I don't know what the answer is. I just know that I am happy here, in Southampton, where my heart beats at the right rhythm and where life seems relatively manageable.

Roll on May...
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