Tearing at the Fabric

Of the space-time continuum

It’s the most wonderful time of the year!


Isn’t it just?

I have been quietly sitting here for the last few weeks, in the knowledge that I will be all alone on Christmas Day. And that is mostly okay. Sorta. Kinda. Well, it just is what it is.

I haven’t been too pissed off about it, because the reason for this is that Roger and his next sister up in age have been burying the hatchet, learning to move on from the awful family rift that occurred on the sale of our farm almost ten years ago (4 January 2007 we moved here.) He wanted me to come too. Nope. I can’t do that. I am pleased he is mending fences, building bridges, offering olive branches, all that shit, but I am not a part of that family anymore, they made sure that I was made very aware that I probably never really was, they didn’t give two flying fucks about me when they tried to sue us, cut my kids off from their cousins (they were close) and later when he cheated on me, not one of them ever enquired after my wellbeing. I am not going to play nice with a bunch of people who don’t care about me, on a day that used to hold a lot of love and goodwill for me. The kids are driving south with their Dad. And I am okay about that, too. This is their family, and although the grandparents are clueless about emotional health and safety, they do love those kids of mine. And it will be nice for them to re-connect with two of their cousins, close in age to my two eldest, one of whom has a 15 month old son now.


Thing is, I was thinking how many Christmases it has been now? First up, I was thinking, shit, this will be the NINTH since he cheated – not that I knew for another eighteen months, after he ‘first’ cheated on me. The next – while he was balls deep in the affair – was spent at the lake, with me struggling to find a ‘new normal’ – having been cast aside from what I was used to, a large extended family Christmas, that I loved – and finding myself cooking up a storm, for about 60, in my tiny single oven and on the BBQ at the lake, when in reality it was us five, and my depressive Dad! I wondered why Roger was so disconnected, and put it down to losing his family. Nope, he was busy texting Leanne (her birthday is Christmas Eve) and letting her know what everyone was doing, yep, she was ‘my friend too.’ Then I realised, no, it’s not nine! He fucked a prostitute on a stag night when we had been living together about oh, a couple of years – at most! And lied about that for about 26 or so years – “I got a stupid, drunken hand job at the brothell when the other guys were there, so stupid, I’m so sorry.” Yeah, right.

I realised that all my memories of Christmas, where I was extra cheerful to make up for the fact that he hates Christmas, are bullshit. To a fair degree.

And that feels like a bit of a metaphor for my life at the moment. Bah humbug!


24 thoughts on “It’s the most wonderful time of the year!

  1. Ah Paula, its not too late to jump on a flight and hightail it to rainy wales, there will ALWAYS be a chair at my table.
    As much as it sucks (kinda) that you will spend the day alone, I would rather do what you are doing than going and being with a bunch of people who don’t and have not, really given a crap, and pretend that all is ok in the familial village.
    I say kinda sucks, because I have the christmas bloat. I feel distaste at the money we have spent, and all the…merriment?! Now that is bah humbug. I’ve had to delete my Facebook account, I feel like the one upmanship is out of control. And y’know I hate FB.
    So yeah it sucks your kids won’t be there (don’t dwell on the other stuff, its shit, its going to stay shit) I vote for a whole bunch of extraordinarily luxurious treats for one. If it were me this would include, eye waveringly expensive bath oil, chocolates rolled on the thighs of small peruvian goats, or something, and the best wine/gin/whiskey, I could buy. Then I’d whack on all the crap TV I can never watch in front of other people……le sigh I think I just blissed out for a moment.
    I’m with you in spirit. As is now my mantra ‘its just one fucking day, whatever.’ I Heart you big time horses.

    • Hahaha! Eyes rolling maniacally! I will miss you on Facey. But I get it. I just looked back on my last two ‘Christmas posts’ and about pissed my pants. Same record. Different track. Lol. It’ll be okay. I agree. Just a day. I am actually looking forward to some quiet and blob time without any judgement. Without a food frenzy. Ahhhh. Bliss just visualising it. Was just triggered by a particularly nasty moment earlier in the week where I just restrained myself from stabbing him with a fork!

      • Well done to you, restraint at this time of year is particularly thin on the ground!
        You really will be ok, sometimes if we tune out the noise telling us all the things we should be enjoying and think about what we actually enjoy – I think they’re very different things. But I may just be projecting.
        You don’t go to do anything you don’t want to, no one to please but yourself.
        I’m constantly amazed by the ongoing fallout of infidelity. Things that you just can’t conceive. You blob out chick.

      • You make sure you listen to that Fkn awesome advice, owlie. Sounds like ‘the season’ is playing with you a bit, too. Thinking of you, and wishing I could hop a plane!

      • Yes it very much is playing with me, have spent a good portion of the afternoon researching volunteering opportunities. christmas bloat backlash! x x x

  2. Hey Horsescumin,

    I get it, and I know that you know that I get it.
    All you wrote resonates with me, but in particular one thing stood out. I too tried to compensate for the “fact” that my husband did not care for Christmas. He also did not care for birthdays, anniversaries and we did not even have a “real” wedding, as he did not care for that either. I accepted it and bent over backwards to AND make it fun for the kids AND not to expect anything from him in this regards…and I felt so lonely.

    It is going to be a different year 2017!


    • Yep. Same deal here. I wonder if our dealing with it was enabling them to just take our chill partner qualities for granted

      • You got me thinking here.
        I used to be proud of being a supportive wife of a career man. In the process I lost myself. I accepted his disconnection. I did twice the work. Yes, I enabled him to be egoistic and I was so loyal it covered his lack of loyalty.
        Healing too, I did most of the work. He just has to follow my word press posts. They form a thread toward healing. At least I give my clients what I did not get and my clients listen to me. It took my husband 4 years to listen.

      • I feel the same way. That being supportive, running the domestic scene as well as working alongside him got me no thanks. I didn’t need that. I did need loyalty. Far more than even I realised.

      • Yes, that is how I feel. Being betrayed made me look back at our relationship and although I accepted so much at the time, those incidences of disregard have added to the pain. I am still trying and in the process of healing, using whatever wisdom I can find to make sense of past, present and future.
        Take care, your support means a lot to me.

  3. That sounds like a sucky Christmas for sure. I’d be doing the same thing, curled up watching Netflix with some irish cream liquor in my cocoa. You don’t need that man!

    • I know Jess. Never have needed him. But sure did love him to bits once. I will be fine. There’s worse things! Have a good one yourself 🎄

      • We share that. The love. I read your posts but more than reading it, I sensed it in between your sentences. You loved him.
        …and it will never totally go away. It has changed. You grieve because you deeply loved and due to his actions he damaged that. Your love for him was made dirty. But you know Paula, you are capable of loving with all you have: Body, mind and soul and no one can ever take that away from you.

        It is rare and it is beautiful.

      • Yes. Very true, Elisabeth. I did. I actually thought ‘everyone’ – and when I say that I mean most people – loved like that. I thought that was what love is. I kind of knew we were somewhat ‘special’ in that I did feel we were more ‘in love’ after quarter of a decade together than many were, ever. But I valued it. Nurtured it. Etc. I don’t ever want to love that way again. It was amazing while it lasted ❤💔

      • I believe it to be special. From myself I know that despite all, I remained in-love and deeply loved my husband until… I was always waiting for him to come home from work travel, and wanting to share all with him and the kids.
        Watching him across a crowded room and feeling the deep love inside me…
        I do not want to love like that anymore.
        Like you, never again like that. That part is broken.
        He says he loves me, but for me it is hard to let go of the hurt, even if I could do that. I am guarded as loving someone so deeply made me vulnerable.

      • Ditto Elisabeth. I still love him. Too much. But it has been changed. I know I was pretty good for several years after D-day. Hella hurt. But still in love. And I wondered what was wrong with me! How could I possibly still love someone who so thoroughly abused my trust, my vulnerability? I felt like a domestic abuse victim! And I was pissed off!

        Vulnerability is key to love properly. I’ve watched enough Brene Brown! I just couldn’t seem to remain open enough. To remain vulnerable enough to love that deeply anymore. I hate them both for that.

        I am at the lake and sleeping in the bed they fucked in. Usually I don’t think about it. I burned the (gorgeous, high thread count…) linen. But last night I wept a little as the mind movies came thick and fast. I saw him climb out of this bed and slip into our eldest daughter’s in the mext door room. Between the sheets with Leanne. And how he leaned in to kiss her deeply. Then put himself inside her. And she never pushed him away. Quite the opposite. I just desperately wanted to slap him so damn hard. Again! I have done that down here, back when we holidayed here together, in this lovingly built place that his filth desecrated. Ugh. Sorry. Bit triggered.

      • I recognise all you wrote and I know what you mean. When I am tortured by those thoughts, I want to slap him too. Betrayal is so immensely hurtful. If someone had told me that I would have these violent thoughts toward my husband years ago, I would refuse to believe it. But “yes” the swearing and volatile thoughts are part of my everyday existence.
        I loved deeply, I hurt intensely and I have lost that “innocent” and sparkly part that used to be me.
        PS: I burnt a lot of stuff that gave me awful reminders and it felt good.

      • Lol! Quarter of a century! Not decade. D’oh!

  4. I share in your bah humbug. I wish we lived closer, we could watch fun tv, gorge one yummy goodies, and forget everyone else. You may feel alone, but we are alone together, and I know of one great solution… CAKE!

    • We will do those things together one day! Cake booked for 2018?!!!

      • Geez, Paula. If you didn’t live ALL THE WAY OVER IN NEW ZEALAND! 🙂 Just kidding. As I said earlier, wish I was there too, summertime (it would never feel like Christmas to me anyway) hanging out, having fun, doing whatever. Last year I was here nursing BE back to health after his hip surgery. This year I have to play nice and socialize and make dinner and stuff. At least I like these people… and then, there’s Princess Leila ❤ of course! Enjoy your free time. I cherish it, myself. And don't tell totallycaroline, but we are having cake for Christmas Dessert. Buche de Noel! 🙂 ❤

      • You will have a lovely time. I forgot about the surgery at Xmas! Soooooooo long ago

      • It seems like forever ago, right? I think you will have a lovely time too, once they are gone and you have settled into frivolousness.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s