Tearing at the Fabric

Of the space-time continuum

Our words still swirl around



At this time of the year, it is inevitable that those of us who are still pretty unsettled about their lives battle those swirling thoughts. I am (dripping with sarcasm) SO surprised that I fit into this demographic.

So, in order to try to put them down for a bit, and get on with my transcription work for both my own thesis, and my supervisor’s research, I thought I might try to dump some stuff here, this darling little receptacle for such annoyances.

I am constantly told that I am doing everything wrong. Constantly. And the thing that really pisses me off about it is that although I am a pretty strong person, a lifetime-feminist, latterly-scholar, and know my own mind, it gets to me. Being told you are doing life wrong is shit. The worst offender is Roger. He always tells me, not in an overtly unkind way, that I am continuing to make poor choices. Yep. He actually says that. Because he’s such a great decision maker, right?

You see, that’s the fucking point. He has been, historically. He makes good decisions, a lot. And me, not so much, quite often. So, yeah, self doubt occurs. And it pisses me off, because I am so aware of the power shit going on here. I know that unconsciously, he is using all he has always known, all our past, to try to convince me that I am wrong. That my brain is wrong. To listen to my heart. We had words the other night. Over our eldest daughter and something she was messaging me about. It was a mechanical issue with her car, and she was about to drive up here for the Christmas/New Year break. She did not message her father, who admittedly has more mechanical knowledge than I do. However, I did my best (I am a farmer, and a practical kind of person) to guide her, to advise her, and he let loose on me afterwards, telling me how wrong I was/am. I tried to point out to him that there was a parenting style difference here, I was trying to guide her, and provide her with information to make her own decisions, and he was trying to dictate what she should do. Maybe, in this case, he might have been right, it was an urgent problem. But hey, at least try to see what I was doing, and note that although we may be ‘mere females,’ we can problem solve, and at least let us try! He thinks I am ‘using’ gender as a trope. But he has never lived a female life. He doesn’t understand that we need to show our independence, that our learned shit from societal attitudes needs to be mindfully overcome. And yeah, in doing so, sometimes, horror of horrors, we make mistakes! He. Just. Shut. Me Down.

Then, he made me feel terrible for not agreeing to go to his sister’s for Christmas. One of his sisters who has never given a crap about me, with his parents, who have also never given a crap about me, and play nice, for the kids. I talked to the kids, didn’t make any big deal about it, just said that I was pleased they were being able to reconnect with their cousins and family – we used to be very close – or so I thought! But, that I wasn’t a part of that family anymore. I did not go into the facts, for example, that they tried to sue us, engaging one of the top barristers in our country. Or that they tried to get us to pay for their children’s private educations (whilst we could only afford to send our own kids to the local, very average state school, when their state options were of a very high standard, ugh.) Or any of the other degrading and vindictive things that they did out of spite and jealousy, back when we were really happy. I am no longer prepared to push my own feelings down to make other people comfortable. But I was ‘wrong’ there, too. I was being petty. And not helping myself heal, and … well, you get the picture. Besides, WE ARE NOT A COUPLE ANYMORE!!! I don’t have to compromise my life for his feelings anymore.

But the problem is, I don’t feel any better living this way. I feel sad, and quite bloody lost. Quite a fucking lot. So, his words – and those of so many others around me -telling me I am doing everything wrong do sting. I see images of happy people and wonder why I can’t get there? Should I have just sucked it all up and carried on with the remorseful man? I feel I tried that, but felt resentful and weak, at the end of the day. I could manage for periods, but then would drop into the depths of despair, that I had let this arsehole treat me like shit, infect me with lifelong diseases, and he was getting a ‘better’ version of me than ever, in some respects. It pissed me off.

Maybe I should just re-title this post, Life Pisses Me Off!

And all this thinking just ties me in knots. I can’t seem to put it all down and get on with life. It sends me down rabbit holes like this one:


Was I wrong, all along? Should I have agreed to marry him, to show public love? I thought it was a private thing, something special, and sacred for us to cherish and protect. But was I wrong? Did he need to put it in writing, to have a big party, to see people see us being quite intimate? I didn’t need that, and he SAID he didn’t either. But Leanne bought a fucking wedding dress for God’s sake! I mean, WTF??? He says that shocked him, that he told her he didn’t love her, and that even if he did, he wasn’t going to marry her. But what the fuck do I know? Nothing. I only hear what he tells me, so who knows what the truth in life really is?

And yeah, maybe I need to get off Facebook, too. I thought I was able to dismiss the bullshit, etc. However, this one got to me this week. There is a couple we know, the wife of whom had a long and deep affair with a client of her own business mentoring company a few years ago now. She left her husband and two young sons, and he left his wife and four young children (including a baby) and they galloped off, so-in-love, into the sunset. Only to have his parents reject her entirely when he tried to introduce her to them. She ran back to hubby and two very confused and hurt little boys that she had said she didn’t want anything to do with. Yeah, he took her back. They then built a huge new house, he bought her a flash new car, they have overseas holidays constantly. They are “super happy and in love.” And my former BFF tells me that she tried to talk to the wife – a good friend of hers – and suggested some counselling to help them both (but mostly the husband, who BFF and her husband were supporting for the two months she was gone) to come to terms with WTF had happened, and to learn to grow their love and be kind to each other. Wife answered, “we don’t need that, we are really in love.” Oh God. Face palm. They are currently holidaying in the States (again, they were also there earlier in the year) for three months, and posting “loved up” photos. With their friends commenting about ‘young love at its best’ – they’re late 40s and early 50s now – and how loved up they are, and how proud everyone is of them. Instead of feeling pleased for them, I just feel absolutely sick. I mean, how high does this guy have to jump now??? This marriage itself came out of a cheating episode (which EVERYONE has conveniently forgotten, as marriage somehow legitimises their selfish crap!) He had a long-term (seven years living together) partner, and she ‘stole’ him off her – yeah, some prize, I know. And she is a selfish bitch (was going to use the word I prefer, which starts with ‘c’ – but know my American friends would be super offended! I have developed an even filthier mouth since cheating marred my life!) Always has been, a real gold digger/social climber, with no real empathy – hell, she was happy to walk away from her two little boys, because they were an inconvenience to her happiness!

And, if I can’t be happy (at least sometimes) in this ‘new life,’ the one I am trying, labouring, to build, then WTF is all this struggle for? Maybe I should just try to ‘settle’ with a remorseful cheater, who promises it was a breakdown, and he has learned so much, feels so awful, and would never make me feel less again. Yeah, right. Because I feel less every fucking day, either way.

I look at that image above, and it looks like us. It looks like how I danced with him under the fairy-lit trees in our garden, hand-made fire blazing, barefoot and blissed out, in a summery dress, to the band who stayed all night, until milking time the next morning – when I went and milked alone for him, so he could get some sleep – on the night of his 40th birthday. It looks like how I always felt when I looked at him, when he would look across a crowded room, and everyone would just blur into the background, it was just me and him, and he might wink, or not. But, we would be instantly melded together, and he would later tell me I was beautiful and that I made him so happy. What a total crock of shit! Why did I believe his lying, whore-flavoured lips?! Argh!

There, there is some of it. The honest thoughts. The thoughts I struggle to push away every minute of every day, in order to try to live authentically with myself. And, honestly? The way that Roger is so adept at twisting the story to suit his purposes, to make me feel like an uncompromising bitch! I know he doesn’t mean to, that he is trying to get the best outcome for all of us, but he is good at this, he has been doing it to/for/with me for 29 years.

And yeah, there are huge doubts. All. The. Time. I just don’t think I can be truly at peace, or joyful-even-a-little, since he cheated and made me sick. The struggle is exhausting, and disabling. I just want a whole new fucking brain!




25 thoughts on “Our words still swirl around

  1. Whore flavored lips…. I adore u Paula.
    Facebook sucks. Suuuuuucks like a couple of whore flavored lips.

    • Normally my bullshit meter is set to indifferent, caroline. I keep it to stay in touch with family and genuine friends and am an expert scroller. I’m sure it is just the stress of ‘the season’ that broke through my Kevlar bullshit-deflecting suit of armour! πŸ˜‰πŸ‘„πŸ‘…

  2. Actually, what sucks, is whore flavored lips and partners who partake in them. No matter where or when those whore flavored lips appear, they are nasty. If only they were limited to FB. If only.

    Sorry you are struggling Paula. This time of year can be so thankless, and yeah, on Facebook things often look a whole hell of a lot better than they are. On FB and other spaces I try to follow the–if I can’t say something nice, I just won’t say anything rule. It’s not real life, but I know from experience I tire very easily of people constantly complaining on FB. What I don’t tire of, pics of family I don’t get to see very often, (and that I actually like, love even). But on WP, we get to just spill. I enjoyed your rant. I felt every word of it. I was mad for you. So well written. I’m glad you have this space. I’m glad I have this space. We deserve this space. We deserve to be able to flip off our circumstances whenever we like, and this is a great place to do it. ❀

    • Me too, Kat. Me too. I actually didn’t physically dwell on the cheating-wife-dancing-prettier-husband post. But it did go ding-ding-ding, despite me holding the sides of the bell, shushing madly!

  3. So sorry for all the hurt.

    Fakebook is so deceptive. And people project what they want to project on it. That couple you are talking of? I can see them parting ways eventually. You can laugh at them, then. Till then, sneer.

    Loved that picture.

    • Normally I am fine with Fakebook. I can let the crap ping off me. I don’t know about that couple. I think some people – the shallow and deceptive ones – are adept at creating and living in their own little bubbles of bullshit. I used to think (in my days of believing karma was a fair bitch) that everyone who wasn’t authentic would eventually fall. But life isn’t that neat. This couple has a power dynamic that has always favoured her. He is weak, in other words. Quite a nice guy. But spineless, if you will. Attractive, huh? (Not!) I won’t be laughing if/when it all falls apart, much as it sometimes feels like I would, I just see pain and damaged kids. They are needy boys, with one being quite noticeably clingy and the other lashing out with violent outbursts thinking it all a huge joke. A right little narc in the making. Ugh. Some (most!) people need a licence to breed!

      The former BFF I speak of here? In a marriage that I consider unsuitable. Thought they’d never see ten years. But have faced some major marriage challenges and going better than ever (well, so it appears πŸ˜‰) at about 18 in. Who knows what the future holds for any of us? I honestly am pleased I have thus far been proved wrong – especially in this case – but it has meant she judges me for ‘not being okay’ – because they are, right? So why not me, what am I doing wrong, because it must be my fault I can’t ‘positive’ my way out of this mire.

      I also love the pic. But it broke my heart just a bit more. It is us. To a tee. How we used to be. Turn the woman’s hair red, her body a little curvier, make him much taller and the hat covering a balder head, and it is totally who we used to be. Hmmm. So now I see those pictures with a bitter dose of ‘just wait. Wait until it happens to you.’ Deeply unpleasant worldview that I wish I didn’t own!

      • …which is why she is your former BFF! Don’t you see? My in-laws are pretty dysfunctional and rocking about four plus decades of marriage. I have no faith left on the human race.

      • Oh totally, St Elsewhere! We were best mates for nearly 40 years. But our values and lives diverged. Mostly in the aftermath of Roger’s affair. But I started to no longer be able to ignore or excuse some of her character that didn’t sit well with me. She is a piece of fluff really. We haven’t fallen out, I just removed myself from much of her life. We are still in touch a bit. But mostly just surface stuff and not often.

        Yes. My paternal grandparents and Roger’s maternal ones both lasted more than 60 years married. And all four individuals hated their spouse deeply. Ugh. I get it!

  4. I’ve been reading your posts for sometime. I’m so sorry that you are tormented; wanting to release yourself from the agonies but feel stuck in a sort of groundhog day.

    There is no template for life or how we should live it other than I would hope people endeavour to be kind to one another. No-one has superior knowledge – you can only go with your inner truth and how you feel not what someone tries to prescribe.

    I think what hits me time and again is the inequity of it all. That the wounds may be less red and raw, some sort of healing or at the least acceptance has happened but the scars will remain. I envy those who can find a peace, a new type of marriage and can file away an affair understanding that the betrayer should not be labelled with a transgression forever. A bad thing doesn’t a bad person make. I know this intellectually. My difficulty is that my personal life experiences and my expectations seem to preclude finding an inner peace with my husband. Curious that in the main it is the betrayed partner who does the digging and delving to try to understand the infidelity and what it was in the partner that led them to this blase act that has such visceral consequences. 3 years down the line come January 2017 and he’s taken a back seat in healing, keep things superficial and bolts when there are difficult conversations to be had or pain to face. I still feel manipulated and that I am the awkward cuss.

    I understand your feelings of exclusion from the family. I found that his family are ones who feel safer internalising or ignoring. A lack of empathy. When I would have loved the occasional text ‘how are you?’ nothing. No response unless I initiated and then not always a response. It feels as though with the uncertainty of our relationship post affair they would rather keep a distance. Where is the kindness? Isolation in itself hinders healing. I’ve felt like a pariah, an embarrassment. This Christmas is the first since 2013 that I have had him here. We had a row. His 21 and 17yr old kids are coming down today for 3 days. Christmas is stressy enough without having stepchildren in the mix. I suggested this – I’m apprehensive but I need to do it in some way as reconciliation in order to move forward without bitterness and dammit to be visible!

    Your christmas sounded tough but you have done what is right for you. I think its hard to strike the balance between meeting one’s own needs and considering other people’s. I hate living a lie, pretending all is normal and we are a ‘happy’ couple when it is all pretence. A marriage post affair to my mind has to be both better and different. Mine is neither. I like you have no interest in sex because I have lost trust, safety and respect and marital love requires those elements. Sex means being vulnerable to someone if it’s based on love and not an emotionless recreation and I can’t do that. We co-exist like middle aged siblings in a rattlingly large house.

    Our house has been on the market for 18 months. I am 100% that I want to buy my own little cottage. I’m 60 and have had enough of living in a state of anxiety, always hoping for a breakthrough and change which is never going to happen. Not sure he still believes this but it will happen. So for the next 3 days while his teens are here I will smile, converse, go along with it but inside like you the joy has gone. It’s very lonely. I’ve lost something of me. I also don’t like what I’ve become.

    Just as a conversation stopper or starter! Something which has alarmed me greatly is a draft law under consideration by the Italian Parliament to remove the word fidelity from marriage contracts.

    “Fidelity is a legacy of an outdated vision of marriage.” Senator Laura Cantini. Apparently, the amendment is a sign of the new sexual freedoms in marriage. Judges cannot merely place the blame for a marriage separation on the mere failure to observe the duty of fidelity. The onus is on the betrayed to prove that the marriage has irreconciliably broken down due to the spouse’s infidelity. This from a RC country which allegedly has higher rates of infidelity than France or Germany. What do you say to that Pope Francis? They have fallen into the trap of rates of infidelity are rising therefore lets normalise the behaviour.
    I’ll leave you to draw your own conclusions…………………..

    A new year beckons. Keep doing what works for you. Better to get angry than to be repressed. You’re clearly a feisty, sparky woman.
    A hug from England.

    • Welcome Nuthatch! I am on my phone and my reply may not be as thorough as I would like it to be. This is a very well put comment. And I agree 1000%! My relationship needed to be something SOOOOOOOO much better than what it had been for me to stay. It had to somehow rise above and almost cancel out the affair and the deliberate actions he chose to stab me in the heart. And I just couldn’t get there. How do you make a silk purse out of that sow’s ear? We tried. Really bloody hard. And I admit there was an element of resistance. No way was that bitch going to split us up! We were so much better than that! Yeah, right.

      I also feel strongly that people fuck up, and if they are sorry, if they learn from it, and mindfully move on, living a better version of their lives, they should not have to be punished for the ‘crime’ forever. However, like you, I have found it impossible to ‘forget’ and just leave it alone. It will be with me forever, and I know cheaters want the repercussions to be finite. They are not. That simple. Roger doesn’t really avoid the conversations, as such, but I have noticed that his more recent technique is to try to steer them, to control them. “If we can talk about this in xyz way,” that sort of thing. That doesn’t float for me.

      As to the sexual disconnect, I am sorry. I didn’t find it happened to me until around the five year mark. We were good up until then. I think – no, I’m sure – that it happened because I just felt disgusted in myself, my body had been breached, tainted and I was ‘rewarding’ the perpetrator with some of the best sex of his life. That felt so wrong to me, and it definitely affected my sexuality, my thinking about my own body and pleasure, etc.

      I hope your Christmas woes are past now and that things begin to improve again. I feel your pain (and hope for a 2017 house sale, and that new cottage for you.) Hugs back from Aotearoa New Zealand.

  5. Ahhh Paula it cracks me up how similar we are.
    I think we are both black and white people and the greatest struggle we have is to try to not be. Because it’s hard, so much harder than being able to compromise all the time. I admire all those people who see and can act upon all the shades of grey in life.
    I’ve no doubt once upon a time Roger would have loved your high moral code, now it’s probably a pain in the ass because it doesn’t bend for him either.
    And this time of year emotions are heightened and amplified. But wouldn’t it be lovely if we could all join in the festive good cheer, put all hurt feeling away into brightly coloured, ribboned boxes and just…..get along, and quite frankly get on with it. Yeah sure, that’d be nice, for who though? For everyone else that you refuse to play nice with because they have hurt you. The problem is when people don’t live in black and white world they don’t realise the great personal cost it heaps upon us to just sweep all the shit under the carpet. And I get it because I live there too.
    It’s hard, as hard as it is on those around us, we are very aware it costs us a hell of a lot more. But still, to be able to look yourself in the face, it’s still not too high a price to pay. You just keep doing you, let everyone else worry about themselves. x x x

    • My mother used to chastise me for my black/white thinking! It’s not that I can’t see and appreciate the glorious and nuanced shades of grey. It’s more like they don’t apply to me!!! Not an ideal trait for a human geographer where we are supposed to recognise and celebrate ‘the spaces in between!’ Meh.

      Those pretty boxes you speak of? They are a part of a visual exercise I repeat, where the lids are super glued shut, and they are fading and gathering dust on the shelves. However, I can’t seem to keep away. My boxes have the dust smeared off them, the lids askew, and often off, the boxes shambolically falling off their shelves with the contents spilling out and missing! I’m like a kid in a Tim Burton version of Christmas, drawn to look at the contents, knowing full well they are a fucking nightmare!

      As to the rug sweeping, I was never very good at that, and now that I am ‘required’ to be, I am a stubborn bitch, and well, just refuse to. I am au fait with my ‘fuck them all’ attitude, but just wish that it felt a little better and that my guilt at refusing to ‘play nice’ with the fuckers was easy to cast aside.

      • I just read this – The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too. – how true for so many of us! (Ernest Hemingway wrote that.)
        I perfectly understand the black/white/grey conundrum, I desperately try to act within the 50 shades, but I find I do struggle.
        I’m sorry you’re struggling, but I do think it’s because you have strongly held beliefs of how people should and shouldn’t act – doesn’t make it any easier though! πŸ˜’

      • So true, owlie. The thing that especially grinds my gears (Peter Griffin said that πŸ˜‰ ) is the fact that I knew this at the time, I raged against the machine. I knew and verbalised that I was in danger of losing myself in the ‘love’ if everyone didn’t play fair. Playing fair included a lot more than fidelity, of course. It included equitable parenting, equitable workloads, equitable giving. He did not do any of that. I could see it then, too, and kept raging! So, he did it anyway, he took me for granted, cast me aside, played fast and loose with my health (mental and physical.) It’s not like I never thought it could happen to me, it was that I thought if we communicated, we could avoid falling into the obvious trap. Nope. Just me. He never took any of the talk on board. Until it was far too late and the goat could not be unfucked.

  6. Venting is perfectly OK here and I personally have no issues with the “c” word. If it fits with what you feel, throw it out, no point in censuring yourself :)!

    Horsescumin, you are a whole person. You loved, you trusted, you achieved important stuff in life and you are a lifelong learning. That the betrayal has changed you is unfortunately a “long-term side effect”. The hurt comes out in anger, but also in brutal honesty as what have you got to lose? I am with you every step of the way as I go through a very similar process. My brutal honesty at times might scare people off, but that means that they are not looking further than the surface and that also means that they see what they want to see. Those, who get it, are not easily scared away.

    I meet many people who despite all they have achieved have received criticism and have internalised it. They really start to believe that they are wrong, not worthy, make wrong choices,….
    When this happens over years starting at childhood and going on and on, people lose themselves and do not know who they are anymore. They regress to a person who behaves according to the standards of others.

    It does not work. You know it and you know the answer as you write about being authentic. To find your authentic self by reflecting on what are your core values and to what extent you live consistent with these might help. Behaving against these, leads to resentment and more anger and it hurts you.

    If Roger is still justifying his behaviour, he has a lot of work to do as justification and true remorse are irreconcilable.

    Whether you were formally married or not, would not have mattered, as your relationship was (at least in your eyes) based on deep love and commitment. I think that betrayal in marriages, when people have publicly vowed to forsaken all others, makes marriage even more of a joke than it already is. One just has to look at how much money is spent on the event and how much money is spent to lawyers to break the bond.

    Keep on going….keep us posted and I love your braveness. I am very interested in your research.


    • Oh, I really don’t think marriage is the answer, Elisabeth. Never have. Which is part of the reason why I never chose it for myself. I’m with you. Expensive princess days for many. I chose true love. Unfortunately Roger altered the memo to suit his own agenda! I think there is a bit of justification lingering. He denies there is. But TBH, I think every cheater or ex-cheater almost has to have some short version of a justification for the chaos and agony they cause. Or they are just bad people, right? There isn’t much. But I see traces in every cheater. I was fighting addiction, I was having a breakdown, I didn’t feel loved, the OP made me feel alive when I was very vulnerable …. Rog might say they are shitty reasons rather than justification. Meh. Whatever.

      And hehehe! I used to be such a ‘nice’ girl – was brought up in a swear-free zone. I knew about it, heard my father swear a fair bit, but it was classified as ‘farm language, not to be used in the home’. I grew out of that quite quickly, possibly expedited with employment in agricultural industries. But, for some reason, I was never comfortable with the word, cunt. In recent years, I think I have adopted the very Down Under attitude that it can be used in a variety of extremely useful ways, and am no longer clutching at my pearls about it! People can be GCs – good cunts – or they can just be outright cunts. Leanne is certainly a member of the latter group. An utter and complete cunt. I know many North Americans still have some reluctance to embrace it. I used to be worried that it was denigrating, using a crude word, usually associated with female genitalia, in an abusive way. I got over it.

      • People with bad behaviours; and yes Leanne is a cunt and so is the Bitch (Dirty B) who fucked my husband. Both women with very bad behaviours and I am not even interested in knowing what justification they used. As for our partners, no justification sticks. Betrayal is the ultimate…

  7. this made me cry.. I remember so clearly how I used to pine over him. How looking across the room to see him I felt so elated to be Charles’s..
    I get the doubt Charles was usually the rational one in our duo
    Now there isn’t one
    I don’t claim him smarter than I anymore or anything above me
    In fact I am more critical of him
    Anyways I miss looking at someone like that
    I miss how madly in love I used to be

    • The grief is the thing I wasn’t very prepared for, NH. I knew what he did was gonna hurt like a MOFO for a while. I didn’t fully anticipate the prolonged grief, despite realising on D-night that there was tremendous loss. Much love, sweets β€πŸ’”β€

  8. I was absolutely not going to get into your business again but this post makes me crazy!!! Tell Roger that the last time he had any say so about you was the day before he screwed Leann.
    What the hell about a wedding dress!?!!?!! Right there! Right there is why you are where you are. You are too smart to buy his shit. He was letting her think it was long term. She might be slimey but so was he. Your gut might just be telling you that you still don’t have the full story.
    Black and white thinking is just another way of saying you don’t buy bullshit. You live the truth and want the truth.
    I wish you lived 500 miles away from him. Going no contact seems to be the best way to move on.
    I wish you peace in the New Years.

    • Hahaha! Absolutely. I tell him constantly πŸ˜‰. They all do what works to keep it going. Cake eaters are not gonna switch off the supply! So yeah, he told her he wasn’t leaving me. He told her he didn’t love her. But I sincerely doubt these things were repeated often. Or that he said too much to end things earlier. And if I am being honest, he was a bit scared of her, because every time he did those things, or told her he needed to end it, she threatened to tell me. She got $10k out of him by extortion, remember? And once it really was over, she told me. And proceeded to make our lives even more hellish for another couple of years. You have no argument from me. I guess the difference is, he is bloody sorry and bloody embarrassed. He isn’t generally critical. But my non-recovery has frustrated us both and that is when he ‘suggests’ I am doing recovery wrong. I get it. This ain’t working. But I am who I am and I don’t buy bullshit because of that black or white mindset.

      I am about 150 odd kms away from him now. We make our own space when required these days. I am blessed with options and very thankful for them. At three lake in stunning sunshine with my dog. Loving it! Happy New Year, Moi.

  9. Lovely you need to get out of that house.

    • No arguments here, JM. Things calmed down considerably after this moment. Been almost a month of kindness and calm. But prior to Christmas we visited his lawyer (I have my own) and made a start on dismantling his family trust in order to regain control of our own assets. We had both been under the impression that this would be almost impossible. The legalities surrounding this, however, have changed in recent times. In our favour. And his mother (who is still the appointer for the trust BTW) has recently been diagnosed with a terminal illness, and is sadly progressing through this much more quickly than anticipated. Lots to process and deal with. Decisions about her care are swiftly having to be made, and the sister he spent Christmas with; and himself are doing a good job of working together to help her, and his dad.

      • Lovely I am happy to hear that thibfs are better ish. How is school going?

      • I will be finished my data gathering this Wednesday. So much transcription ahead!!! Lit review 2nd draft tidied today to send to supervisors and methodology chapter begun. It’s frantic. And there is stress looking at the workload πŸ‘…πŸŽ“

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