Tearing at the Fabric

Of the space-time continuum

Arse up Christmases




I am still here 😉

Just thought it timely to share the annual Christmas cheer…..

How are we all? It is a tough time of the year when life has turned arse over tit. My fun moments, of course, have not ended because I have stopped blogging daily. I am still super busy at work, and yes, I have madly signed up for a summer school directed study paper – but I am refusing to acknowledge it until after Christmas. I hope like mad that some of the madness at work settles by the beginning of 2015.

Well, that was started a couple of days ago. My son turned 18 that day. Life is flying by. My eldest daughter drove all night to arrive back with us for a week or so. Lovely.

Christmas Day was average. I tried hard, but we fought on the morning, great start. I moved away from him, and on with the day. It was quiet, but pleasant.

Today, we talked again. Not a lot better. I guess, for all of us, Christmas is a tangible reminder of all we lost, all the lovely traditions and happiness that they fucked up because they are selfish fucktards. The stain never to be washed off your life.


The year of his affair, was a really tough one. I was exhausted, we had been excommunicated from his family, and mine was scattered to the wind, the anchor, my mother was long gone, and I tried to hold them together, but really, we are mostly only linked by blood, and not a lot else anymore. I worked my arse off to make it special. Moving a whole Christmas to our lake house, and going ALL OUT. And Roger was just….absent….It was so weird, and I never connected the dots. He was towards the end of the affair, but still strongly pulled in her direction. I had NO idea what was going on, didn’t start to click until months later that something might be off. And it was nearly a year in by then. I was so confused about why he couldn’t relax, and why he kept going “for walks” – with his phone – I didn’t notice that properly either. I was busy trying to pretend we still had a wonderful family, and feeding them the food porn I had prepared – for the usual numbers! I had six of us there, but had cooked for the usual 60! That was the last year we enjoyed our little “couple” tradition of dancing around to our Christmas song on Christmas Eve. Or the last where I didn’t flood the lounge room with a river of tears. The last of the “good” Christmas memories for me.

Anyhoo – another one survived. Boxing Day races to be enjoyed, and I have FIVE days off work!  Woot, woot!

Hoping everyone survived, and maybe there were some small moments of almost-joy (watching a child/grandchild’s face, filled with joy, surprise, contentment.)

Love to all xxx.

Behind every untrusting gal is a boy who lied, cheated, and broke his promise to her.


3 thoughts on “Arse up Christmases

  1. “Almost joy” and “almost love” are ao apt, aren’t they? We had a really nice Christmas eve, there’s somehing so nice about not being *obliged* to be happy that let’s you get closer to it. Christmas day was fine, but God the relatives did their best to spoil it even though they were hundreds of kilometres away! My in-laws tried to shove Alisha down our throats and my mother put her foot in it with our son by giving his sister more presents. Sigh.

    But on the upside I made a cracker dinner and we ate ourselves silly. Paul bought me a bottle of moscato specially (normally he would not waste it since I don’t drink much and he doesn’t like moscato).

    Survived. Better than last year. Much better than the year before. Progress. Slow.

  2. But yes, once you arse up Christmas it is pretty much impossible to have it ever untainted again. Something OW seem to have no problem with. Just move on to the next man (or back to their husband) and it’s like it never happened. Well, here’s to the karma bus lurking round a blind corner.

    God knows we should be driving it Paula. Merry Christmas!

    • Or in Leanne’s case, no man. Story of her life. Rog told some classic bitch stories about how she treats people. No man has been able to stand being with her for long. I think that was a lot of her attraction to him. He called her out on her shit, something no one has been brave enough to do. I think she liked his “strength” in that form. He didn’t stand for her meanness or her shallowness. He would have been good for her. I see that. But her for him? Not so much. He could even identify all of this, knowing he needed to get her out of his life. But selfish jerk, took his cake while he eased himself away from her claws.

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