Wednesday, August 10, 2005

a little whine with your day, ma'am?

There's so much noise in my head, and rather than cohesive thoughts, it's mostly in images, and I feel like I'm watching scenes from someone else's movie.

I haven't felt good for over three weeks. At first, it was the cold that never was, then the one day sinus infection, and now it's the headache that keeps coming back. With the clarity of vision one gains with hindsight, I realise that while I'm not getting sick, I'm also not getting better because I'm run down and so very, very tired. I've only ever taken one day off before, one single day, for an injury that kept me off my leg for nearly eight weeks. (That's no exaggeration, mind. I could barely walk for all that time, then suddenly, it got better. Nothing ever showed up on x-rays or ultrasound either, it was just One Of Those Things. Weird) Then two Sundays running, I called in to ask if someone could take my 6am class because I'm too wussy to get up and take the damn thing myself. It's pathetic, considering there's nothing actually wrong with me - and god help me, I cannot afford to take time off. More than that though, I hate being Unreliable Employee Of The Month, and in the space of one week, it's who I've become. They're looking for a replacement for that shift now. I feel I've let them down, when what's really going on is they're looking out for me.

My actual, real boss sucks major arse, but the people I work with are totally grouse.

Speaking of grouse people, one of them just found out she's going to be an aunt. Dani's twenty one year old brother and his twenty (today. Happy birthday, moron) year old girlfriend are idiots expecting a baby. A planned baby.

There's nothing quite like financially unstable and completely immmature children creating and raising more children, is there? Good grief.

Dani is beside herself, as while she's not much older than either of them, she raised her brother while her mother and father drank themselves into oblivian. She's one of those people who should be on Oprah for breaking away from her fate and making a good life for herself and her brother - until Spoofy Boy and his idiot girlfriend decided a kid would be a FUN! idea.

While enjoying my day off on Monday, I got a call from another gym needing an aqua instructor, stat, to run three classes beginning in two hours time. I said yes, so while I was taking time away from my gym, I was also having an affair with another gym. Technically it was only a couple of aqua classes, but taking them signified so much more than a competancy achieved. Not that long ago, I would have been too chickenshit to grab onto an unknown like that. I'd have been too scared of fucking it up to actually do it. Now though, my first reaction was one of excitement, of grabbing the opportunity and learning from it. Fucking it up? Eh, it could happen, but I'd never know what I was capable of doing if I didn't challenge what I already know.

I've grown, methinks, in the last year, and am now less Wait. I'm just as fearful, and went through the familiar 'what if I get lost on the way there, what if they hate me and what if I'm really bad at this?', but rather than decline because of those questions, I accpeted in order to answer them.

I don't know who I barely recognise these days: the me that once hid behind her fears, or the me that now challenges them.

The relationship Stef and I now share occupies a lot of my incoherent thinking.

It's already too late for his daughter to know me before she's introduced to the concept of her new brother or sister. She'd have to meet a reality rather than share in an idea that grows into something more. I'm angry because both our children have been denied the chance to know each other with excitement rather than shock or surprise.

I realised something the other night. It wasn't a flash of inspiration or a moment of clarity, it was more a memory of something I'd once forgotten. I thought I was angry because Stef has abandonned this child - and I am, but I'm also hurting because he's abandonned me. He doesn't want this child, not because it's his, but because it's mine.

I've grown enough to realise this refelcts his deficits, not mine, but I'm also vulnerable enough to believe a deficit exists in me, rendering me unlovable and therefore, unwanted.

That belief goes way deeper than Stef and I. Our relationship merely echoes what I grew up with.

It spanned almost five years, and things had deteriorated long before we created this child. Not enough to leave him, but enough to know I soon would, and that made me sad for him. I'm the best friend he's ever had, but he didn't treat me like I was. He treated me like he was ashamed, and having met him so soon after his wife left, I understood his shame was more to do with his marriage breakdown than it was to do with me, but the shame continued and ultimately became a habit. As the years passed, I don't think even he remembered what it was that shamed him so much.

Despite all this, I thought I'd know him forever though, as he did me. I didn't want the relationship we had to continue, but I trusted him when five years earlier, he told me he believed as I do, that if both are willing, two people can create a friendship out of the ashes of something else.

He lied.

He's still married, by the way. I'm pregnant to a married man. I must have rocks for brains.

Geology aside, I still hurt, and when I hurt, I put a wall between my pain and that which causes it. I've been pretending Stef doesn't exist, but now I'm torn. I want to do the best thing for both of these children, and I know that giving my issues carte blanche over my actions isn't it. I know too, that achieving this 'best thing' is still dependant on Stef's willingness to want the same, but at least I can know I did my best. What's stopping me from finding out what that is though, is my fear of being abandonned by him again.

I don't know what to do.

One minute I know I should call him, the next I'm questioning why I want to call. Is it really for the children's sake, or is it for mine. If it's for mine, is it because despite all the shit, I hope for a reconciliation, and if I do, why? Next question: why do I even think I might be, underneath it all, harbouring that monumental delusion, when I know I want nothing more to do with this man?

Above all though, and as much as I want do what I can to give our children an opportunity to know each other, I want to protect my child from the shame that is so inherently Stef.

My mother still doesn't know of her only grandchild.

My brain hurts.

In other news, remember Milo, from 24? We fell in love last night, and then I woke up feeling inordinately sad.

That's not unusual lately, the waking up sad. Then I get up, and pretend I'm the happiest person in the world. I'm so good at pretending that even I believe my bullshit - until I wake up crying again.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Speaking of 24, I've only just finished watching the first season over several, glassy eyed nights, and wasn't Terri Bauer was the most annoying twat EVER? I waited 23 hours for her to bite the biscuit, and the highlight of the entire 24 was when she did.

2005-2007© aibee