Tuesday, 26 March 2013
I’m tempted sometimes to blog more regularly. This is not least because I know that there are many people out there who care about me. So, knowing what’s going on is helpful. But at the moment, I think I would either confuse, or worse, frustrate everyone. A potted history of the last month would be up, down, up, up, down, down, down, up, down etc. You get the idea.
The old saying struck me when I came to write this blog: 'I’m up and down like a yo-yo', hence the title. I also remembered the saying, ‘up and down like a whore’s drawers’ but thought that the blog title, ‘whore's drawers have it easy’ would a) give you the wrong impression, b) be censured by blogger and c) get me into trouble with the sex industry. So I resisted. But it is accurate, so I used it anyway.
Many of the ups have been great highs. I’ve been working very hard recently at my job and have been getting great feedback. To a level of quality that I’ve not really seen before - I guess it happens when you put your mind to it. I have a couple of slow moving, frustrating projects too, but I’m even enjoying them because I’m working with some fantastic people who empathise with my snail’s pace situation.
Another high was my first trip to New York which was fab - I really enjoyed it. I kicked back and did everything a tourist is expected to do. I also wanted to take the train from New York to Washington for the day. It was so cool, but why did no-one mention that the walk from the Capitol to the Lincoln Memorial is quite so long and more importantly so freakishly windy. Brrrrr. I spent the afternoon of that day trolley busing - I love guided tours.
Oh - and another waxing session. Little bit more painful this time, but so worth it. Followed by a shopping trip where I got the most super cute cardigan and top combination in the world. It feels so pretty. The more life goes on, the more I realise I can’t live without allowing my girl side to flourish - and more and more I want her to take over.
My friends have been fantastic. 3-4 in particular has never stopped checking on me, making sure that I’m ok. Last week, one of my friends who I haven’t talked to much about Rhiannon and I went for dinner. It was a very frank and open conversation with us both sharing our current issues. At one point he said basically that of all his friends, he thinks of me much more as a girl than a boy and that he would find it hard to be this open with his other male friends. A couple of conversations with him over the last few months have been touch.
And there in lies the hideous paradox. In my mind, I completely think like a girl. Everyone who ever speaks to me always says it. Feminine traits just seep from every pore. So why oh why did I get this 5’11 big fat bloke body. Someone recently, when I said that I do the best I can with it, replied, "I've seen worse!" That pretty much summed it up for me - its the level I've reached! :o) Nooooooo! How could it ever change or be different?
And one final 'high' shout out. I didn't get to the live performance - but I love it when great people take big risks. Lynn Jones of YATGB fame did live stand up recently and she was really good - a great start. Watching that made my day. It always does when people push themselves beyond what they think they can do and it succeeds.
But as high as the highs have been, the lows have been so low. Putting aside the fact that my mobile (cell) phone was stolen from under my nose when I was in central London. Ignore that the death of my nan really hit me hard over the last couple of days, the heartbreak of separation continues. I know lots of you have been though it and know. But the pain of it sometimes leaves me breathless. The loneliness, the aching. I sometimes am in a meeting or out and about and my mind strays to my kids and the sense of palpable loss is overwhelming. Its like every bit of life has been sucked from my body and I could just sob. Clearly in meetings, that is not best thing in the world, but I’ve had some close calls.
Despite my earlier comments, the temptation to try to give all of this up and to be ‘normal’ is crushing, because I want my old life back. Deep down I know I would never be able to really do that. So I go on. It feels like a half-life, with so much missing, like there is an empty gap that used to be joyously filled and now its void and painful even to look at.
That’s the thing, I know it’ll pass. Mrs A constantly asks me if I’ve decided to come back and, by implication, to stop being Rhiannon. I find it a trial every time because I want to say yes and to jump straight back into her arms. That would make everyone happy, only to disappoint them all again down the track when I can't stick to it. And when I do fail, they’ll hate me because I gave them hope and snatched it away again. So every day I spend time resisting my natural inclination to solve the problem, to make it better, knowing that the best I can do is a temporary patch. And inside, I grow cold as I realise that my dream family is over. In reality that means something new will form. But Family 2.0 is not as good (in my eyes). I just hope that if I can work hard at it, things might be ok.
If you reached this far without needing to resort to alcohol, well done. But you were warned, I am very up and down at the moment...