Saturday 4 September 2010
Saturday 4 September 10
Today is a day that I want to capture and know how to recreate. Nothing especially spectacular has happened. The children played out, my heart was broken as usual for the struggles that Adan has, I don't like the culture here, I want so much more, but I am in the elusive happy place of being sad about the dream that is no longer a reality, and missing the things that I desperately miss, and the people that I long to have in my life that are too far away, but I am filled with love and gratefulness for the things and people that I do have near to me. My children are my world and I will always be in love with them. Al is my man. He is the man. He is the only man that has allowed me to feel free and accepted enough to let all of this pour out and still know that I am passionately and unconditionally loved. He is the only person other than Kirsty who knows that I feel differently about the the world and about life, and although he won't ever really understand the depth of what goes on in my head, he understands and accepts fully that it is me and he doesn't care, he just loves me. Truly, truly, truly loves me. And I thank the universe for all of the blessings that I have. Please, please, please let me figure out to just be like this xxxx
Friday 3 September 2010
Friday 3 September 10
Yesterday was a great day. I wanted to write yesterday but I was so busy doing whatever I was doing at full speed that I never got round to it. I would have written - and just like that, today is a great day. I feel vibrant and full of life and can't wait to get out into the world and breathe in the day's experience. It was the children's first day back at school after summer holidays so that might have been a large contributory factor. I decided to screw the housework (which I never do) and went into Wigan for a wander. I'm always so stressed out about money that I never go to shops, but today I wanted to be out in the world doing what normal people who don't stress about money do. I didn't spend a lot, but it felt great to give myself the option. This is possibly the hugest issues about my life now. Not necessarily lack of money or location, lack of options, it sucks the life out of me, I need to feel free. So Nikki and I went into every shop and tried on everything we felt like. I came home with new biker boots which I absolutely love and no lining paper which is what I was meant to go out for. Everything I miss so desperately from my old life didn't seem so desperate.
And just like that, today is not a good day. I woke up tired, but I'm always tired so that can't be it, and once again the thought of going through the daily motions made my head heavy. When we got downstairs Adan knocked over the ironing board and bumped into me. It didn't hurt that much but I shouted at him and burst into tears. I cried my way through making breakfast.
If there was some pattern or trigger that I could figure out, at least I'd be prepared and I could talk myself through it until the time I knew the sun would come up again. This is why I've started writing. I'm hoping that at some point a pattern will emerge and I can start trying to understand myself and my life. Or maybe I really am as crazy as I think and there won't be any pattern? Or are the crazy people only the ones who don't know they're crazy which means I'm not? Maybe I'm just completely narcissistic and need to shut up and get over myself? I'd be happy to accept that conclusion if someone told me that was the truth and I could stop my head from being so bloody frantic all of the time. Or are the "crazy" ones the ones who just plod along telling themselves that plodding is an acceptable existence and my diagnosis is not crazy, it's just pure realism? I do wonder a lot about the scurrying along of the human race, full of their own self importance and making a million decisions a day that ultimately mean fuck all. Does no-one else see it? And if they do, could they please be my friend so I'd know it wasn't just me. My long shot hope is that by some universal random act, one of the world's top psychiatrists will happen to come across my blog, read my ridiculous ramblings and contact me with their difinitive explanation, and then I'll know what to do and it'll all get better.
And just like that, today is not a good day. I woke up tired, but I'm always tired so that can't be it, and once again the thought of going through the daily motions made my head heavy. When we got downstairs Adan knocked over the ironing board and bumped into me. It didn't hurt that much but I shouted at him and burst into tears. I cried my way through making breakfast.
If there was some pattern or trigger that I could figure out, at least I'd be prepared and I could talk myself through it until the time I knew the sun would come up again. This is why I've started writing. I'm hoping that at some point a pattern will emerge and I can start trying to understand myself and my life. Or maybe I really am as crazy as I think and there won't be any pattern? Or are the crazy people only the ones who don't know they're crazy which means I'm not? Maybe I'm just completely narcissistic and need to shut up and get over myself? I'd be happy to accept that conclusion if someone told me that was the truth and I could stop my head from being so bloody frantic all of the time. Or are the "crazy" ones the ones who just plod along telling themselves that plodding is an acceptable existence and my diagnosis is not crazy, it's just pure realism? I do wonder a lot about the scurrying along of the human race, full of their own self importance and making a million decisions a day that ultimately mean fuck all. Does no-one else see it? And if they do, could they please be my friend so I'd know it wasn't just me. My long shot hope is that by some universal random act, one of the world's top psychiatrists will happen to come across my blog, read my ridiculous ramblings and contact me with their difinitive explanation, and then I'll know what to do and it'll all get better.
Wednesday 1 September 2010
Wednesday 1 September
I arrived at Dubai International Airport on 7 February 1997 some time during the night. The automatic doors opened and the heat washed over me and filled my lungs. It was beautiful. Just thinking about it makes me smile and I feel that sense of arrival all over again. Not arrival to Dubai, the arrival of me.
The first 7 weeks were a whirlwind. A week of orientation and meeting and greeting and then training school which was just so much bloody fun. Some of it was desperately boring, but we laughed and yawned our way through it (some days dragged ourselves through a hangover and no sleep through it) and loved every second. Hours on end discussing the importance of the correct lining and presentation of a croissant basket with some stupid bugger always asking another question at the end so the topic would be dragged out for another half an hour - and then an hour on a simulator being flung around a fake cabin filled with fake smoke or a fake whooshing of air from a fake hole in the fake plane and the donning of our fake oxygen masks. God damn I loved it. It was the absolute time of my life. It's such a waste that I didn't know it then though and I almost lost it all for good for a man who wasn't even mine to have. I don't regret many things in my life, from even the worst parts I can see how I've grown, but this is definitely at the top of my list.
My last flight with Airtours before I left for Dubai was a day trip to somewhere I can't remember the name of, maybe Florence, or was it somewhere beginning with an S? Anyway, it was just a train distance away from Monte Carlo, so all of the crew went there for the day. When I got to the briefing that morning I was speechless when I saw who the Captain was. In my 18 months with Airtours I had always been intensely drawn to this one Captain whenever I had flown with him or even when we just passed in the corridor. Not just sexually, but something deeper, something I couldn't explain, I had never felt it before. It was completely overwhelming and I loved it, but everyone fancied him so I had always kept it to myself, I do so hate to follow the pack. Plus I knew he was married and straight as a dye. A lot of the flight deck shag around, goes with the territory, but this one was well known for his impeccable reputation, he had been there years and was quite senior. I had bumped into him the day I was handing in my notice so we chatted about my move to Emirates. I only found this out later, but he had pulled a few strings and a couple of favours to be put onto my last flight. Me, him, Monte Carlo, a beautiful hotel room and a whole lot of chemistry. Apparently he had always been drawn to me too. Sounds like such a cheesy cliche now when I read it back. We didn't have sex that evening, we talked and talked, and we kissed on the balcony, and we melded together so intensely and deeply in ways I don't even have the words for that I was hooked, and I could see nothing else but him. I still cannot believe I actually did this, could be so fucking stupid and thoughtless it physically hurts me even to type it, but after 4 months in Dubai and a couple of visits from him to see me, desperately, insanely and some friends say fanatically, unhealthily in love, I packed up all of my things and got on the next flight to Gatwick because he couldn't bear to be without me for another day. I stayed with him in the hotel where he was training for a short while and then he found me somewhere to live and paid for it until I was able to find a job. The important thing I learned in next 2 months.....
A married man who is not yet divorced and is still living in the same house as his wife is still a married man!! And regardless of the I Married The Wrong Woman And I've Never Loved Her The Way That I Love You Or Could Ever Love Anyone Else I Love You So Desperately You Are My Soulmate And I Want Nothing More Than To Marry You As Soon As I'm Divorced And Have Babies Together shite, HE WAS NOT MINE TO EVEN TRY TO HAVE! And is it not so out of the realms of possibility that maybe, just maybe he felt about his wife this way once, AND THAT'S WHY THEY GOT MARRIED?!
But at the time, how could love so intense and so rare be the wrong path to follow? Surely when this once in a lifetime bonding occurs the only right thing to do for everyone, including his wife (which she would see in time when she was out of an unhappy marriage and found her true soulmate too) was to follow it head and heart first? It was nobody's fault, no-one could see it coming, we didn't plan it. And so, (again it fucking kills me to say it) that's exactly what I ridiculously, unbelievably, naively, stupidly did. I think you can safely assume from my choice of vocabulary that me and Mr Soulmate are not married and living in paradise with a brood of beautiful babies. The reality was, I was a fabulous escape from the pressures of his very structured, pressured, stable, high expectation life, and I was kind of the mid life crisis to help him get over it. When I became a part of the pressure, I no longer served my purpose, and so I was cut loose. Lucky for him his wife forgave him and off he went back to where he came from leaving me abandoned in a place of England I didn't know, no job, no home and no-one to turn to. And so I sobbed. I sobbed for months and months without stopping. A well deserved fate due to the circumstances a lot might say, but trust me when I say I have paid for it ever since with every other decision I have made. It changed me so completely that I didn't know what was real and what wasn't any more. I lost myself, I lost my faith in what was right and who I was, and I thought I would never ever recover. I regret that time so much more deeply than I could ever express in words, not just for me, and certainly not for him, but for what I must have done to his wife. Surely everything she believed and thought was true was shattered also and I wish every day that I could take that back from her. She has the right to despise me until the day she dies, but I truly hope that she has the happiest, most fulfilled life than she ever thought was possible. I heard years later that they have 2 sons. I hope he is the best father and husband he can be and never lets them down.
The first 7 weeks were a whirlwind. A week of orientation and meeting and greeting and then training school which was just so much bloody fun. Some of it was desperately boring, but we laughed and yawned our way through it (some days dragged ourselves through a hangover and no sleep through it) and loved every second. Hours on end discussing the importance of the correct lining and presentation of a croissant basket with some stupid bugger always asking another question at the end so the topic would be dragged out for another half an hour - and then an hour on a simulator being flung around a fake cabin filled with fake smoke or a fake whooshing of air from a fake hole in the fake plane and the donning of our fake oxygen masks. God damn I loved it. It was the absolute time of my life. It's such a waste that I didn't know it then though and I almost lost it all for good for a man who wasn't even mine to have. I don't regret many things in my life, from even the worst parts I can see how I've grown, but this is definitely at the top of my list.
My last flight with Airtours before I left for Dubai was a day trip to somewhere I can't remember the name of, maybe Florence, or was it somewhere beginning with an S? Anyway, it was just a train distance away from Monte Carlo, so all of the crew went there for the day. When I got to the briefing that morning I was speechless when I saw who the Captain was. In my 18 months with Airtours I had always been intensely drawn to this one Captain whenever I had flown with him or even when we just passed in the corridor. Not just sexually, but something deeper, something I couldn't explain, I had never felt it before. It was completely overwhelming and I loved it, but everyone fancied him so I had always kept it to myself, I do so hate to follow the pack. Plus I knew he was married and straight as a dye. A lot of the flight deck shag around, goes with the territory, but this one was well known for his impeccable reputation, he had been there years and was quite senior. I had bumped into him the day I was handing in my notice so we chatted about my move to Emirates. I only found this out later, but he had pulled a few strings and a couple of favours to be put onto my last flight. Me, him, Monte Carlo, a beautiful hotel room and a whole lot of chemistry. Apparently he had always been drawn to me too. Sounds like such a cheesy cliche now when I read it back. We didn't have sex that evening, we talked and talked, and we kissed on the balcony, and we melded together so intensely and deeply in ways I don't even have the words for that I was hooked, and I could see nothing else but him. I still cannot believe I actually did this, could be so fucking stupid and thoughtless it physically hurts me even to type it, but after 4 months in Dubai and a couple of visits from him to see me, desperately, insanely and some friends say fanatically, unhealthily in love, I packed up all of my things and got on the next flight to Gatwick because he couldn't bear to be without me for another day. I stayed with him in the hotel where he was training for a short while and then he found me somewhere to live and paid for it until I was able to find a job. The important thing I learned in next 2 months.....
A married man who is not yet divorced and is still living in the same house as his wife is still a married man!! And regardless of the I Married The Wrong Woman And I've Never Loved Her The Way That I Love You Or Could Ever Love Anyone Else I Love You So Desperately You Are My Soulmate And I Want Nothing More Than To Marry You As Soon As I'm Divorced And Have Babies Together shite, HE WAS NOT MINE TO EVEN TRY TO HAVE! And is it not so out of the realms of possibility that maybe, just maybe he felt about his wife this way once, AND THAT'S WHY THEY GOT MARRIED?!
But at the time, how could love so intense and so rare be the wrong path to follow? Surely when this once in a lifetime bonding occurs the only right thing to do for everyone, including his wife (which she would see in time when she was out of an unhappy marriage and found her true soulmate too) was to follow it head and heart first? It was nobody's fault, no-one could see it coming, we didn't plan it. And so, (again it fucking kills me to say it) that's exactly what I ridiculously, unbelievably, naively, stupidly did. I think you can safely assume from my choice of vocabulary that me and Mr Soulmate are not married and living in paradise with a brood of beautiful babies. The reality was, I was a fabulous escape from the pressures of his very structured, pressured, stable, high expectation life, and I was kind of the mid life crisis to help him get over it. When I became a part of the pressure, I no longer served my purpose, and so I was cut loose. Lucky for him his wife forgave him and off he went back to where he came from leaving me abandoned in a place of England I didn't know, no job, no home and no-one to turn to. And so I sobbed. I sobbed for months and months without stopping. A well deserved fate due to the circumstances a lot might say, but trust me when I say I have paid for it ever since with every other decision I have made. It changed me so completely that I didn't know what was real and what wasn't any more. I lost myself, I lost my faith in what was right and who I was, and I thought I would never ever recover. I regret that time so much more deeply than I could ever express in words, not just for me, and certainly not for him, but for what I must have done to his wife. Surely everything she believed and thought was true was shattered also and I wish every day that I could take that back from her. She has the right to despise me until the day she dies, but I truly hope that she has the happiest, most fulfilled life than she ever thought was possible. I heard years later that they have 2 sons. I hope he is the best father and husband he can be and never lets them down.
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