Currently typing this post with a cat draped across my legs clawing the crap out of my thighs. Everyone likes a challenge, I suppose!
Also, it took me forever to find tonight's song lyric - apparently I don't have many happy songs. Let's not psycho analyse this fact, yeah? Ta. It has nothing to do with this post really, I just love this cover and the band in general! (Plus it sounds slightly dirty and it makes me chuckle.) YouTube them! They're amazeballs.
Anyway, this week has been pretty crazy. Had an exam on Monday, I think it went ok, I felt SO relieved that it's over, the stress of it has been building up since I finished uni for the summer and in the week before it I was an irritable bitch. Now it's done I'm back to just being a plain bitch. ;)
I went for lunch with my Dad on Tuesday, I feel like we're finally starting to get on and can actually have a laugh together now which I'm really happy about.
Wednesday I went to the circus with a couple of friends, it was really good, I'd never been to the circus before so it was certainly a new experience to add to the books! :) (Plus, always nice to see Rikki-babes!)
Nothing much happened on Thursday, just my usual activities (that sounds dirtier than I mean it!).
I had pole Monday - Thursday this week and I can finally see an improvement. I'm so happy, I feel like I work really hard at pole and don't really see the changes the others say they see but this week I did and it was a massive boost! I've decided I really want to learn to chair dance and put a pole/chair routine together for myself. Watch this space!
Also been to the gym a few times this week, Katnip hasn't been able to shake me off this week. We've been practically joined at the hip between wandering around town, gym, pole and the circus trip this week! She's alright though so I don't really mind. ;) <3
It was the funeral of a family friend on Friday, which wasn't the best end to the week. He was only 69. I actually remember him being around before I remember my Dad being around. He was a very quiet man, never intruding on a situation but always there in the background. He doted on me when I was little and had a patience I can only dream of having. He will be sorely missed. R.I.P. Uncle Bob.
Overall (excluding Friday), I feel like things are getting better, I'm much happier, more positive and actually looking forward to uni starting up again in September! Missing my uni chums and our baking/lecture gossip sessions!
Next week is looking to be pretty awesome too (Katnip's 21st on Monday and going to see Batman at some point!). Hopefully loads more happy posts to follow now! :)
<3
[Title from Magic - Walk Off the Earth (Cover)]
Saturday 28 July 2012
Tuesday 3 July 2012
I don't think you wanna see what's underneath...
Thought I should do a little update post! So much has happened in the last couple of months that I don't even know where to begin!
Firstly, most important I suppose, I've stopped going to counselling. Stopped going at the end of April actually. I felt like it was making me feel worse than I already did. We didn't really discuss ways to help me deal with my panic attacks or how to get over what happened. Instead, we talked about who I am, how I act/think and other things along that same theme.
I felt she passed a lot of personal opinions and judgements about me which, as my counsellor, she had no place doing. Counsellors are supposed to remain neutral, I didn't feel she did that AT ALL.
She gave me one coping mechanism to help me during my panic attacks/flashbacks and, quite frankly, it was the worst idea anyone has ever had. Instead of helping it made them worse and actually resulted in a whole string of new nightmares - don't think I've had a full or peaceful night's sleep in about 2 months now, half the time I'm too scared of the dreams to sleep.
My, now former, counsellor suggested I talk to the guy I was seeing, due to the nature of and triggers that cause my panic attacks, it was likely to happen when he was around. She suggested that I talk to him (he already knew about the situation and had been really supportive about it) and ask if he'd help me find distraction techniques to prevent a panic attack from escalating. He was 100% willing to help and generally pretty awesome.
He ended things 3 days later.
Not going to lie, it was a major confidence knock for me. I'd never been that open with someone about my past for fear that they'd be unable, or unwilling, to deal with it and end up leaving and, in my opinion, that is EXACTLY what happened.
Since things ended I've pretty much stopped talking about what happened and stopped trying to deal with it. It's back in its box in my mind, lid pretty securely sealed.
It was the anniversary of what happened last month. I was a total mess. I just stayed in bed and cried all day. Not so healthy!
Over the past couple of months I've been trying to see more of my friends, going to the gym and generally getting fitter. I think I'm being more positive about things, I certainly feel a LOT happier than I did 2 months ago and the really scary thoughts/urges have definitely subsided. I'm also having to fake smiles much less often - they're now genuine smiles. I'm actually a relatively happy person right now.
I still have my moments though. I had a pretty major freak out earlier; seems I definitely haven't discovered all my triggers yet.
Tonight was slightly different, too. I may regret posting about this but everyone's busy tonight and I need to get it off my chest and out my brain! I've met this new boy and he's kinda totally amazing. Anyway, I'm supposed to be staying at his house on Thursday and I am absolutely terrified I'll end up having a panic attack or nightmare or something like that and freak him the f*ck out. He knows about the panic attacks but not the dreams, I don't think anyway. It's not something I'm ok with at all and I hate that, years later, I'm still dealing with what happened.
I guess I'm worried that he'll see me differently and walk away. I know what he'd say to me saying that but everyone else has said something similar and every single one has walked away - and even though he is NOTHING like any other boy, or person, I've ever known, it's still in the back of my mind.
The night terrors are worse than the panic attacks. Due to my counsellor's advice, not only do I relive what happened, I relive it but with the faces of different people - her advice was to picture someone I trust to help calm me down and hopefully make the flashbacks ease, it had the complete opposite effect - and I am so so worried that new boy (you know I hate using real names in my blog) will end up in my dream and, well, yeah, it ends up being unpleasant for both people when I wake up.
The aftermath of the nightmares are probably the main reason I don't really open up, share with, or sleep with (as in the literal sense, not anything dodge) the person I'm with, seeing someone have a panic attack or nightmare is bad enough! It's not something I'm comfortable with people seeing, even my closest friends. Quite often half my problem is that I end up panicking about having a panic attack which is really unhelpful!
Anyway! Sorry guys, not such a happy post from me tonight unfortunately. I'm baking on Thursday so I'll post up pictures of what I make to cheer us all up!
<3
P.S. If new boy sticks around for long enough I may do a nice post about him, we'll see ;)
[Title from Rumour Mill by We are in the Crowd]
Firstly, most important I suppose, I've stopped going to counselling. Stopped going at the end of April actually. I felt like it was making me feel worse than I already did. We didn't really discuss ways to help me deal with my panic attacks or how to get over what happened. Instead, we talked about who I am, how I act/think and other things along that same theme.
I felt she passed a lot of personal opinions and judgements about me which, as my counsellor, she had no place doing. Counsellors are supposed to remain neutral, I didn't feel she did that AT ALL.
She gave me one coping mechanism to help me during my panic attacks/flashbacks and, quite frankly, it was the worst idea anyone has ever had. Instead of helping it made them worse and actually resulted in a whole string of new nightmares - don't think I've had a full or peaceful night's sleep in about 2 months now, half the time I'm too scared of the dreams to sleep.
My, now former, counsellor suggested I talk to the guy I was seeing, due to the nature of and triggers that cause my panic attacks, it was likely to happen when he was around. She suggested that I talk to him (he already knew about the situation and had been really supportive about it) and ask if he'd help me find distraction techniques to prevent a panic attack from escalating. He was 100% willing to help and generally pretty awesome.
He ended things 3 days later.
Not going to lie, it was a major confidence knock for me. I'd never been that open with someone about my past for fear that they'd be unable, or unwilling, to deal with it and end up leaving and, in my opinion, that is EXACTLY what happened.
Since things ended I've pretty much stopped talking about what happened and stopped trying to deal with it. It's back in its box in my mind, lid pretty securely sealed.
It was the anniversary of what happened last month. I was a total mess. I just stayed in bed and cried all day. Not so healthy!
Over the past couple of months I've been trying to see more of my friends, going to the gym and generally getting fitter. I think I'm being more positive about things, I certainly feel a LOT happier than I did 2 months ago and the really scary thoughts/urges have definitely subsided. I'm also having to fake smiles much less often - they're now genuine smiles. I'm actually a relatively happy person right now.
I still have my moments though. I had a pretty major freak out earlier; seems I definitely haven't discovered all my triggers yet.
Tonight was slightly different, too. I may regret posting about this but everyone's busy tonight and I need to get it off my chest and out my brain! I've met this new boy and he's kinda totally amazing. Anyway, I'm supposed to be staying at his house on Thursday and I am absolutely terrified I'll end up having a panic attack or nightmare or something like that and freak him the f*ck out. He knows about the panic attacks but not the dreams, I don't think anyway. It's not something I'm ok with at all and I hate that, years later, I'm still dealing with what happened.
I guess I'm worried that he'll see me differently and walk away. I know what he'd say to me saying that but everyone else has said something similar and every single one has walked away - and even though he is NOTHING like any other boy, or person, I've ever known, it's still in the back of my mind.
The night terrors are worse than the panic attacks. Due to my counsellor's advice, not only do I relive what happened, I relive it but with the faces of different people - her advice was to picture someone I trust to help calm me down and hopefully make the flashbacks ease, it had the complete opposite effect - and I am so so worried that new boy (you know I hate using real names in my blog) will end up in my dream and, well, yeah, it ends up being unpleasant for both people when I wake up.
The aftermath of the nightmares are probably the main reason I don't really open up, share with, or sleep with (as in the literal sense, not anything dodge) the person I'm with, seeing someone have a panic attack or nightmare is bad enough! It's not something I'm comfortable with people seeing, even my closest friends. Quite often half my problem is that I end up panicking about having a panic attack which is really unhelpful!
Anyway! Sorry guys, not such a happy post from me tonight unfortunately. I'm baking on Thursday so I'll post up pictures of what I make to cheer us all up!
<3
P.S. If new boy sticks around for long enough I may do a nice post about him, we'll see ;)
[Title from Rumour Mill by We are in the Crowd]
Monday 16 April 2012
She's a lonely witness, to the truth untold.
I want to be the girl who deals with stuff well. The one who can go through anything and bounce back like nothing happened. That's the front I put up. That's who I pretend to be. Nonchalant, closed-off, independent and immune to any pain or hurt.
I'm not that girl. I've tried to be her for a very long time (years) but I just can't do it.
There was an incident between myself and someone I trusted with my life a very long time ago. I was a teenager, still in school, and didn't know how to deal with it and I had no-one I felt I could confide in about it so, naturally (for me anyway), I clammed up, put on a brave face and pretended everything was fine. I put the incident away in a box and it was never spoken of again.
Many years, more than my share of failed relationships, and one television advert later and I've finally admitted I need help.
By bottling it for so long, if anything, I've made it worse. It's built up over the years and has now manifested itself in every aspect of my life.
When I drafted this blog entry (around a month ago now), it was the first time I'd ever opened up and admitted that I'm not strong enough to get over this by myself.
I asked my GP for help and was treated appallingly. He didn't help in any way. He went to his computer, printed off a leaflet (all the while ignoring me) and sent me on my way. It's not exactly a shock there are thousands of people who don't ask for help if that's how they fear they'll be treated.
However, being the stubborn little chipmunk that I am, I refused to let his asshattedness (it's a word!) affect the situation more. I spoke to my PDT at uni and she has been beyond amazing.
My PDT arranged an appointment for me to be assessed by one of the university counsellors. I went 3 weeks ago and spoke to a lovely woman.
After a small chat (around 15 minutes or so) she decided counselling is something I definitely need. She's become my counsellor as she believes she has the best expertees to help me.
I had my first proper session 2 weeks ago. It lasted 50 minutes and after that I decided if I felt counselling was right for me - it is.
I felt (and still feel) very empowered and proud of myself for finally doing something about my issue and taking this step. Yes, it's taken a long time to do so but I'm ready now to do something about it and feel better about myself. *In Rafiki's voice* "It is time!" (I'm such a nerd!)
To anyone out there who feels no-one cares or no-one is willing to help - stop now. Seriously. There is someone out there who will go out of their way to get you the help you need. Never stop searching. You'll get there, we all will! (Ew, cheese much?!)
<3
[Title lyric from Spinning Days - Seth Lakeman.]
I'm not that girl. I've tried to be her for a very long time (years) but I just can't do it.
There was an incident between myself and someone I trusted with my life a very long time ago. I was a teenager, still in school, and didn't know how to deal with it and I had no-one I felt I could confide in about it so, naturally (for me anyway), I clammed up, put on a brave face and pretended everything was fine. I put the incident away in a box and it was never spoken of again.
Many years, more than my share of failed relationships, and one television advert later and I've finally admitted I need help.
By bottling it for so long, if anything, I've made it worse. It's built up over the years and has now manifested itself in every aspect of my life.
When I drafted this blog entry (around a month ago now), it was the first time I'd ever opened up and admitted that I'm not strong enough to get over this by myself.
I asked my GP for help and was treated appallingly. He didn't help in any way. He went to his computer, printed off a leaflet (all the while ignoring me) and sent me on my way. It's not exactly a shock there are thousands of people who don't ask for help if that's how they fear they'll be treated.
However, being the stubborn little chipmunk that I am, I refused to let his asshattedness (it's a word!) affect the situation more. I spoke to my PDT at uni and she has been beyond amazing.
My PDT arranged an appointment for me to be assessed by one of the university counsellors. I went 3 weeks ago and spoke to a lovely woman.
After a small chat (around 15 minutes or so) she decided counselling is something I definitely need. She's become my counsellor as she believes she has the best expertees to help me.
I had my first proper session 2 weeks ago. It lasted 50 minutes and after that I decided if I felt counselling was right for me - it is.
I felt (and still feel) very empowered and proud of myself for finally doing something about my issue and taking this step. Yes, it's taken a long time to do so but I'm ready now to do something about it and feel better about myself. *In Rafiki's voice* "It is time!" (I'm such a nerd!)
To anyone out there who feels no-one cares or no-one is willing to help - stop now. Seriously. There is someone out there who will go out of their way to get you the help you need. Never stop searching. You'll get there, we all will! (Ew, cheese much?!)
<3
[Title lyric from Spinning Days - Seth Lakeman.]
Friday 17 February 2012
All these words on replay.
This week hasn't been amazing. Probably one of the worst of this year, including New Year.
I fell out with one of my best friends in the entire world last Saturday. He brought up something from my past on a bus, in front of a friend. I didn't appreciate it, it actually really upset me that he'd bring up something I told him in confidence. As it turned out, he'd told our other friend at the time which also upset me as, as far as I was aware, 3 people knew about the incident. It's not something I like to remember, it's in the past and I don't think it needed to be brought up for what I can only assume was an attempt at a cheap laugh. At the bar, I went to the bathroom and when I got back, my (£5) pint had been drunk. I'd had maybe a mouthful of it. Normally this would annoy me but I'd just bitch until they bought me another drink. It's the third time it's happened this year and I felt like I was only around to be the butt of their jokes. As I pointed out to a friend, any girl they wanted to sleep with would be treated so differently, they'd show her some respect. I feel like I get none. My "friend" still hasn't apologised. Even when he was standing two feet away from me at the gym last night. I think I deserve an apology and I'm not going to back down on that. It was a cruel thing to do to someone and, in my opinion, not the way you treat someone you supposedly care about.
Fast forward to Wednesday, someone I know popped up on my chat. They then proceeded to call me dysfunctional (which coming from them is beyond hypocritical) and give me a list of reasons as to why I'm single. By that I mean I was given a list of things that describe who I am. Examples include: I'm too laddish, I like heavy music, I'm not very girly, the way I dress, I swear too much, I'm too fussy with food (I don't like spicy food, sue me), I'm too cynical etc etc - you get the idea.
At uni the lads were joking that I "put it about" for most of our lesson. Yes, it was a total pisstake but I worry that they actually think I'm like that. I don't think it's an image I present or live up to.
I think it's just asshole week. Hopefully next week will be better!
[Title taken from Make up Smeared Eyes by Automatic Loveletter]
I fell out with one of my best friends in the entire world last Saturday. He brought up something from my past on a bus, in front of a friend. I didn't appreciate it, it actually really upset me that he'd bring up something I told him in confidence. As it turned out, he'd told our other friend at the time which also upset me as, as far as I was aware, 3 people knew about the incident. It's not something I like to remember, it's in the past and I don't think it needed to be brought up for what I can only assume was an attempt at a cheap laugh. At the bar, I went to the bathroom and when I got back, my (£5) pint had been drunk. I'd had maybe a mouthful of it. Normally this would annoy me but I'd just bitch until they bought me another drink. It's the third time it's happened this year and I felt like I was only around to be the butt of their jokes. As I pointed out to a friend, any girl they wanted to sleep with would be treated so differently, they'd show her some respect. I feel like I get none. My "friend" still hasn't apologised. Even when he was standing two feet away from me at the gym last night. I think I deserve an apology and I'm not going to back down on that. It was a cruel thing to do to someone and, in my opinion, not the way you treat someone you supposedly care about.
Fast forward to Wednesday, someone I know popped up on my chat. They then proceeded to call me dysfunctional (which coming from them is beyond hypocritical) and give me a list of reasons as to why I'm single. By that I mean I was given a list of things that describe who I am. Examples include: I'm too laddish, I like heavy music, I'm not very girly, the way I dress, I swear too much, I'm too fussy with food (I don't like spicy food, sue me), I'm too cynical etc etc - you get the idea.
At uni the lads were joking that I "put it about" for most of our lesson. Yes, it was a total pisstake but I worry that they actually think I'm like that. I don't think it's an image I present or live up to.
I think it's just asshole week. Hopefully next week will be better!
[Title taken from Make up Smeared Eyes by Automatic Loveletter]
Friday 10 February 2012
Nothing is forever if it can't be true.
Everyone knows I like tattoos. Everyone knows I want tattoos. Everyone knows I want the title of today's blog permanently inked on my body. However, not everyone knows why.
Stone Sour are one of my favourite bands and their song Anna is my favourite song of all time (the name is an honest coincidence).
The first time I heard this song I related to it. I know it sounds pathetic but it really got to me. It made me cry actually but we'll pretend I didn't just admit that!
This lyric to me sums up my way of life. I honestly believe that lying gets you nowhere. Having been lied to pretty much constantly for 8 straight months last year, it's not something I think is acceptable in life.
I 100% believe that anything that is a lie will not last. I don't lie to anyone, about anything. If you ask me a question, I will answer it as honestly as I can. My friends do this too, at least with me, if they think I'm being a tit, they'll tell me. It's how I wished everyone lived their lives.
I like honesty, yes, the truth hurts sometimes but I'd rather be hurt with the truth than led on with a lie. At the end of the day, the truth always comes out and it will always hurt, why prolong that?
I'm not sure I can go into a lot of detail about why I want this lyric, I think what I've said above tells you everything you need to know.
What rules do you live your life by?
[Title taken from Anna by Stone Sour]
Stone Sour are one of my favourite bands and their song Anna is my favourite song of all time (the name is an honest coincidence).
The first time I heard this song I related to it. I know it sounds pathetic but it really got to me. It made me cry actually but we'll pretend I didn't just admit that!
This lyric to me sums up my way of life. I honestly believe that lying gets you nowhere. Having been lied to pretty much constantly for 8 straight months last year, it's not something I think is acceptable in life.
I 100% believe that anything that is a lie will not last. I don't lie to anyone, about anything. If you ask me a question, I will answer it as honestly as I can. My friends do this too, at least with me, if they think I'm being a tit, they'll tell me. It's how I wished everyone lived their lives.
I like honesty, yes, the truth hurts sometimes but I'd rather be hurt with the truth than led on with a lie. At the end of the day, the truth always comes out and it will always hurt, why prolong that?
I'm not sure I can go into a lot of detail about why I want this lyric, I think what I've said above tells you everything you need to know.
What rules do you live your life by?
[Title taken from Anna by Stone Sour]
Tuesday 10 January 2012
Still I have trouble with most days and nights.
Part 2: continuation from "Let me tell you the story about a boy and a girl."
We went out one day. Jason* said something and I instantly knew he was lying (if only I'd learned that trick earlier eh?!)
As usual, it took a lot of persuasion to get him to open up and tell me what the hell was going on. He told me he was relapsing and couldn't cope. Lots of personal chat, tears yadda yadda etc etc. We talked for about 3 hours.
That day, something changed for me. Something big. I wanted out. Putting the majority of my energy into our 'relationship' resulted in me having no effort left for friends or uni work.
I stuck around for another 4 months. ("Why, Anna? WHY?" I hear you say, I'm getting there, keep reading dammit!) It wasn't great. Looking back now, I should have walked after summer but when someone tells you that without you they have no reason to "stick around" then it pretty much stops you in your tracks. You feel guilty and you stay to make them happy, to stop them ending it.
Now, I'm not saying it was all awful. We had some nice times in those 4 months. However, it was almost always short lived. We started constantly arguing and fighting about petty little things. Amongst our problems we each had our own issues. Health, uni, family etc. I felt I needed to stick around but in all honesty, being with Jason did little for my confidence. We would barely go out and when I stayed with him we would do nothing but watch TV and eat. To be blunt: he barely touched me, not even to hold my hand or cuddle me. I think that's what triggered our first big fight which then escalated.
After 3 weeks of pretty much constant bickering (we saw each other once in that time, after my first exam) we agreed to try being friends for a week.
I'm sure you can work out the rest. I'm single so it doesn't take a genius.
2 days into the "break" I felt better, I was happier and more relaxed and people were noticing a difference. I didn't last the week. The next day I'd decided to tell Jason I felt it would be better for both of us if we were just good friends. We both had too much going on individually etc. That's the excuse I gave him anyway. My real reason was that I saw a chance and I took it. I'm not proud of it. I feel guilty about my choice every single day. Jason's Dad had fallen ill. His Mum couldn't cope and had to stop working. Jason told me he felt he needed to be around for his parents as they needed him now more than ever. Thus, he didn't need me to stick around to keep him going anymore. Like I said, I'm not proud of it. I left him when he needed my support most. I'll probably never forgive myself for that.
I think that's about as condensed as I can make our story. I apologise it's so long but a lot happened in those 8 months.
Truthfully, I don't know if I'll ever fully get over what happened. I can only hope that I learn from this experience and take the knowledge into my future - isn't that what we do with every relationship?
I still find it difficult to trust people - including myself. I haven't had time to properly move on yet so can't say if I'll ever trust someone they way I used to.
I also don't feel the way I used to about myself. I have little to no confidence and don't trust my gut instinct anymore.
It will take time, as it does with any break up. I do wish I'd walked away sooner though. I wish it everyday. Maybe then things wouldn't have gone so tits up at Christmas/New Year - long story short (seems to be my theme of the day): right person, worst possible timing.
*Name has been changed
[Title from "Crash Land" by Twin Atlantic]
*Name has been changed
[Title from "Crash Land" by Twin Atlantic]
Let me tell you the story about a boy and a girl.
Apologies in advance for the length! (If your mind made that dirty then you are my kind of person.) It's going to be in 2 parts to try and make it easier to read!
Part 1
There's a lot I could say about my last relationship but I lot I won't publicly share - this story belongs to 2 people.
I will, however, tell you my version of events whilst leaving out the most personal details.
I first met Jason* in April, shortly after my 20th birthday. We got on straight away, we were both former chefs, liked the same music, films and silly YouTube videos. ("Oh no, I'm trapped in a ball of water!" If you understand this reference I will reward you with love and baked goods.) We chatted back and forth for a little while before arranging to meet (in a public place, calm down people, sensible is my middle name - shut up Craig!) We were blethering away while we waited on a train and it was all totally comfortable, I know it's cliché but, I felt like I'd known him years. We went back to his parents' house and watched LOTR. Well the first one and half of the second. Sounds silly but it was just so relaxed and nice. We joked about how the 3 movies could have been rewritten and done in 20 minutes. He had the exact same theory as me - the giant birds, anyone? - and could already finish my sentences. Call me foolish (and believe me, I do, everyday) but I fell pretty quickly.
We spoke most days on the phone. Just hearing his voice made me smile.
Fast forward a few weeks, we'd been chatting, as you do, and he'd told me about his life; he'd been in a car accident and his car was in for repairs, he'd bought a flat in Edinburgh and was getting ready to move just as soon as it had been checked over etc. Lots of little things like that as well as some personal things.
Eventually, after a few "dates" we became an official couple. I was so happy, he was lovely. He was probably the first boyfriend I'd ever really opened up to.
As my boyfriend, Jason had to meet my friends. We went for a wee night out so everyone could meet each other.
Long story short: they didn't like him. At all.
Jason stayed at my house that night (he lived in Fife and had missed the last train home).
The next day we watched films and ate Chinese food. It was so relaxed and not like anything I'd ever had before.
Jason had to go home so I walked him to the bus stop. Whilst we were waiting at the bus stop, he got a phonecall from his Mum telling him that his Dad and her had had a fight. A fight that had ended in violence.
Obviously I wasn't going to let him to back to that so I said he could stay with me for a couple of days until things had settled down.
When he went home they were still fighting. He stayed at a friend's house for a day then came back to my house. This all happened within a month of us dating.
I had surgery at the end of May. Not serious surgery but still relatively stressful surgery. When I got home, I discovered a present waiting for me. Jason had gone into town and bought me a t-shirt I had liked for ages but couldn't afford. It's a small gesture to some people but it's the nicest thing any guy has ever done for me and it still makes me smile to this day. He looked after me for a whole week. (Quick point - previously, I dated someone who told me I wasn't "allowed" to talk about how ill I was feeling or "go on about" being in pain.)
We did the "I love you" thing far too quickly. Those 3 words only ever lead to disaster.
Summer passed. It was pretty manic. Jason's Grandmother passed away. She lived in a 3 storey farm house in England. She had left Jason the house and the 3 acres of land surrounding it. The land was valued at £20million. Companies started bidding for the land. Jason told the family lawyer to accept one company's offer of £30million. (There are a lot of details her that I won't divulge, they aren't necessary for my story and some are quite personal. Plus, I'm trying to keep this short for the poor sod who actually reads this!)
Basically, lots of phonecalls with the lawyer, lots of talking, lots of promises. We opened a joint account and started looking for somewhere of our own.
Yes, you could have argued it was too soon but it's very easy to get caught up in the excitement of it all.
Jason told my Mother than she could quit her job and would never have to work again. We went on house viewings and I packed up most of my things ready to move.
Something went wrong. Jason's Mum was sick. It was terminal. He had to go down to England right away to see her.
There are many ins and outs as to why I didn't go down that are too complicated to go into.
Jason left for England. That was the last I heard of him for 3 days.
I had no idea what was going on. I was worried something had happened but part of my mind had begun to question things. The seed of doubt had been sown. I wanted answers.
I tried to find a phone number for the house I thought he was staying at. I had to get my Mum to phone because I was too nervous. She phoned the number. Jason's Grandmother answered. My world crumbled.
The rest of that day is pretty hazy but to sum it up; nothing was true. His Grandmother was still alive and well, as was his Mother. The relationship between his parents was better than ever - there was never a fight or any violence. He didn't own a car or a flat in Edinburgh.
It's a strange feeling, knowing you've been fooled. Nothing in my life will ever compare to the humiliation of that day. (I'm sure there's time for that to happen though!)
I chatted to Jason for a few hours that day. He explained what had caused this to happen and how it was going to be dealt with. Rather, he threw a pretty half-assed cop out of excuses at me until I eventually got the truth out of him.
The reasons behind his behaviour seemed plausible to me. I believed his explanation and we decided to remain friends - having never connected with someone on that level before, I was clutching at straws, desperate not to lose something my lovestruck mind told me could be saved.
A month passed. Jason had started a method of treatment which seemed to be helping. We spoke nearly everyday. I basically became his support network. Big mistake on my part.
We pretty much started seeing each other again, although nothing was "official." It wasn't the same, how could it be?
*Name has been changed
[Today's title is from "The Dilemma" by You Me at Six]
Part 1
There's a lot I could say about my last relationship but I lot I won't publicly share - this story belongs to 2 people.
I will, however, tell you my version of events whilst leaving out the most personal details.
I first met Jason* in April, shortly after my 20th birthday. We got on straight away, we were both former chefs, liked the same music, films and silly YouTube videos. ("Oh no, I'm trapped in a ball of water!" If you understand this reference I will reward you with love and baked goods.) We chatted back and forth for a little while before arranging to meet (in a public place, calm down people, sensible is my middle name - shut up Craig!) We were blethering away while we waited on a train and it was all totally comfortable, I know it's cliché but, I felt like I'd known him years. We went back to his parents' house and watched LOTR. Well the first one and half of the second. Sounds silly but it was just so relaxed and nice. We joked about how the 3 movies could have been rewritten and done in 20 minutes. He had the exact same theory as me - the giant birds, anyone? - and could already finish my sentences. Call me foolish (and believe me, I do, everyday) but I fell pretty quickly.
We spoke most days on the phone. Just hearing his voice made me smile.
Fast forward a few weeks, we'd been chatting, as you do, and he'd told me about his life; he'd been in a car accident and his car was in for repairs, he'd bought a flat in Edinburgh and was getting ready to move just as soon as it had been checked over etc. Lots of little things like that as well as some personal things.
Eventually, after a few "dates" we became an official couple. I was so happy, he was lovely. He was probably the first boyfriend I'd ever really opened up to.
As my boyfriend, Jason had to meet my friends. We went for a wee night out so everyone could meet each other.
Long story short: they didn't like him. At all.
Jason stayed at my house that night (he lived in Fife and had missed the last train home).
The next day we watched films and ate Chinese food. It was so relaxed and not like anything I'd ever had before.
Jason had to go home so I walked him to the bus stop. Whilst we were waiting at the bus stop, he got a phonecall from his Mum telling him that his Dad and her had had a fight. A fight that had ended in violence.
Obviously I wasn't going to let him to back to that so I said he could stay with me for a couple of days until things had settled down.
When he went home they were still fighting. He stayed at a friend's house for a day then came back to my house. This all happened within a month of us dating.
I had surgery at the end of May. Not serious surgery but still relatively stressful surgery. When I got home, I discovered a present waiting for me. Jason had gone into town and bought me a t-shirt I had liked for ages but couldn't afford. It's a small gesture to some people but it's the nicest thing any guy has ever done for me and it still makes me smile to this day. He looked after me for a whole week. (Quick point - previously, I dated someone who told me I wasn't "allowed" to talk about how ill I was feeling or "go on about" being in pain.)
We did the "I love you" thing far too quickly. Those 3 words only ever lead to disaster.
Summer passed. It was pretty manic. Jason's Grandmother passed away. She lived in a 3 storey farm house in England. She had left Jason the house and the 3 acres of land surrounding it. The land was valued at £20million. Companies started bidding for the land. Jason told the family lawyer to accept one company's offer of £30million. (There are a lot of details her that I won't divulge, they aren't necessary for my story and some are quite personal. Plus, I'm trying to keep this short for the poor sod who actually reads this!)
Basically, lots of phonecalls with the lawyer, lots of talking, lots of promises. We opened a joint account and started looking for somewhere of our own.
Yes, you could have argued it was too soon but it's very easy to get caught up in the excitement of it all.
Jason told my Mother than she could quit her job and would never have to work again. We went on house viewings and I packed up most of my things ready to move.
Something went wrong. Jason's Mum was sick. It was terminal. He had to go down to England right away to see her.
There are many ins and outs as to why I didn't go down that are too complicated to go into.
Jason left for England. That was the last I heard of him for 3 days.
I had no idea what was going on. I was worried something had happened but part of my mind had begun to question things. The seed of doubt had been sown. I wanted answers.
I tried to find a phone number for the house I thought he was staying at. I had to get my Mum to phone because I was too nervous. She phoned the number. Jason's Grandmother answered. My world crumbled.
The rest of that day is pretty hazy but to sum it up; nothing was true. His Grandmother was still alive and well, as was his Mother. The relationship between his parents was better than ever - there was never a fight or any violence. He didn't own a car or a flat in Edinburgh.
It's a strange feeling, knowing you've been fooled. Nothing in my life will ever compare to the humiliation of that day. (I'm sure there's time for that to happen though!)
I chatted to Jason for a few hours that day. He explained what had caused this to happen and how it was going to be dealt with. Rather, he threw a pretty half-assed cop out of excuses at me until I eventually got the truth out of him.
The reasons behind his behaviour seemed plausible to me. I believed his explanation and we decided to remain friends - having never connected with someone on that level before, I was clutching at straws, desperate not to lose something my lovestruck mind told me could be saved.
A month passed. Jason had started a method of treatment which seemed to be helping. We spoke nearly everyday. I basically became his support network. Big mistake on my part.
We pretty much started seeing each other again, although nothing was "official." It wasn't the same, how could it be?
***
Part 2 coming up next: Still I have trouble with most days and nights.
*Name has been changed
[Today's title is from "The Dilemma" by You Me at Six]
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