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necessaryvent · 2 years ago

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It's not just a fridge.

Yesterday we collected my 1 year old fridge from my parents' house and brought it home. It's newer than the fridge we bought before we had my eldest (now 11) and it's laid out better. The shelves are wide and you can organise them better. The old fridge was always more cluttered looking and you could go months without being able to see stuff hidden at the back.

But it's not just a big deal for practical reasons.

A year ago I was just separated from my husband and scared about making it on my own. I had been a stay at home parent for a very long time and had no finances behind me, besides what I was entitled to in assets (which would involve long term action) and what the kids needed. I could not afford mortgage payments on my own and I was out of the home I had been so proud of.

I had sold my rings to buy the fridge. It had been a very sad thing to do but at the time my husband had been in a bad mental space and was angry at me (even though he now admits he was just being a selfish dick) and I saw no chance of us reconciling. I needed to gain some independence and this fridge gave me some hope.

Fast forward a year and after a lot of growth, we are back together and happier and stronger than we had been in a very long time. My fridge was sitting at my parents' house, largely unused. It is too nice to be a 'second' fridge and too new to sell (it would not get me anywhere near what it's worth if I tried).

For the above reasons, it made sense to collect it from my very patient parents and put our older fridge outside (under cover) as our 'second' fridge (for drinks or when it's a special occasion and there's a lot of stuff to keep cool).

My husband initially had a strong mental block about it. The fridge reminded me of the rings I sold (yes he takes responsibility but I think he was ashamed and sad to think about it all). It reminded him of our separation. It probably reminded him of old feelings (that came from him being in a toxic mental space). I explained the practical reasons for getting the fridge but I also told him that the fridge took something sad and scary and turned it into something hopeful and happy for me. That the kids and I had felt happy to have our own thing in my parents' house. That it had stored the stuff that nourished us during a hard time. That it held happy memories for all of us.

Yes, we could have sold it if he could have never been ok with it, but it seemed silly (to me).

I showed respect for his feelings and gave him time to think and he accepted it.

Moving the fridge in yesterday was awesome. A fresh start. I got teary. Now my home feels like I provided something. I had felt disempowered for a long time (and it wasn't really about finances). I now own some of our big assets and have a lot of money in savings. It was so important to me to come back on more equal ground.

I am so grateful for where we are at.

I have therapy this week and honestly I'm not sure what I will talk about haha.

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necessaryvent · 2 years ago

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Back to therapy.

I took a year off. My life was falling to pieces (which had to happen) and I had to return to work which clashed with my psychologist's clinical hours. I could have pushed harder to keep it up but honestly, I felt like I had the tools from previous therapy plus the resilience (and support from my network) to get through. It was never going to be easy but I knew I could do it.

Now I'm going back simply because some slow ass that works for her called and offered me an appointment out of nowhere in the new year and I said yes because I felt like I at least owed it to myself (and to her) to come back and let her know wtf happened with me after I dropped off the planet. Like to have...closure? Like I don't know - I might continue on with her for a while. But I started seeing her because of my relationship issues but now my issues have changed (lol there's always something right). So I feel like I almost need to wipe the slate clean (like not completely clean - everything is a work in progress). A huge event was happening for me a year ago and now it's not happening anymore. I dunno.

I hope I don't cry or feel worse for rehashing things or start worrying about what she personally thinks (while being the professional she always is). Yikes.

I feel like I should have some things up my sleeve that I would like to address in upcoming sessions:

recap how my last year has been and how I navigated my separation and how my husband and I came to reconcile.

How I feel about my son's ADHD diagnosis and realising my other kid will probably have a diagnosis when she's old enough and how I have ADHD and how I now realise it's actually a lot for me as a person and parent and how I feel about getting some help for myself now I can see the difference it's making in my son. Also how I think my husband has some (could just be childhood trauma/learned behaviours but either way the result can be the same). Also how I realise I have carried a lot of shame in the past.

How I'm trying to balance being a working mum. I feel so time poor and even when I have time 'off' I don't. But I really want to work on not losing myself again. How I struggle to not eat emotionally and to I want to prioritise exercise but I don't do it. And I'm so tired from my kids haha.

How my daughter has really struggled to adjust to full time school - does she have any tips for me?

Anyway, after that I'm going to get my nails done (and hopefully get something to eat for lunch).

I'm tired but so happy last night went well with my daughter sleeping through.

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necessaryvent · 3 years ago

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Rejection sensitivity sucks

I never plan NYE ahead of Christmas. Then after Christmas, everyone already has plans and I feel like a loser. But I'm writing this to talk myself out of that mentality. Let's hope it works. I want this rejection sensitivity purged out of my system because it always cripples me (long story about it stemming from my adoption and because I have ADHD and that's apparently an ADHD thing too).

Reasons I shouldn't feel like a loser:

NYE is usually quite overrated. Everyone just tiring themselves out before they have to go back to work haha. It's always going to have bittersweet feelings. For me I want quiet time to reflect on the year that was and feel the hope of what's to come.

I always tell myself I'm crap and nobody cares enough about me to invite me somewhere. But I've had a good year, all things considered. I lived locked down socially a bit (I felt weird not having my own home to invite people to etc) but I also had dinners with friends more regularly, had a lovely birthday with friends, went to Exmouth (you cannot tell me that good time was all a lie and nobody likes me now). Part of me could be more organised and more willing to put myself out there to invite people to things and organise stuff.

My husband doesn't care. He's happy and content to just be a family on NYE and do nice things on New Year's Day. If he doesn't care, then I can relax into that too.

I can be proactive for next year. Plan something in advance with Facebook invites and everything.

I need to remember that my rejection sensitivity is real, but the rejection isn't.

I do feel like I lost momentum and time after this time last year. Because I didn't fully know it but it was the beginning of the end for my husband and I. Things were not good and so maybe there's some trauma involved. I want to get over that and enjoy having people in our home again. I just need to work on the courage to organise things.

I often feel like I'm torn in all directions. Wanting couple time, family time, friends time and something always has to give! I probably overthink things. I just need to focus on what works for me/us and remember that is good enough.

I also need to train my brain to chill out as quickly as possible when I get trauma based anxiety from years of living a cycle of "nothing can be good without someone sabotaging it".

I am going to have a good day. I just need to relax. It's beautiful weather and I have enjoyed being with my husband but I will also value having some space to be an individual today (with the kids but that's OK haha).

I am happy and I am allowed to be happy. Screw you, trauma!

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necessaryvent · 3 years ago

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Remembering self compassion in December.

I have been struggling to feel the joy of summer and the excitement for Christmas this year, more than any other year. Which is really weird because we've had some really difficult years with family drama and marriage issues.

Then I think about how I feel ripped off because we had such a long winter that the weather hasn't been good enough for barbecues and pool swims and beach outings at sunset and all the other wonderful events that incidentally/organically happen in the summer. The end of the school year is stressful because the kids get exhausted. It's fairly standard stuff I can't control.

Yet, I've been feeling so flat and constantly out of time. I'm feeling resentful of how rushed around I am and how I can't find my feet when it comes to preparing for Christmas day etc.

I just want to remind myself of why this year feels different and validate myself.

I became a working mum this year. I have less time at home to keep my home tidy and to sort things out for the silly season.

I went through a big separation and then a reconciliation (this means I have moved house twice and dealt with the emotional aspect of this twice). It's been emotionally exhausting. Working through big issues and facing hard stuff. I lived in someone else's home and that's not the same as having your own space as an adult and parent (which is what I've been used to my whole adult life).

I had a child in part time school. It was worse than if she had been at day care. Less hours. No flexibility. Alternating weeks (2 days one week, 3 the next but the 3rd day had shorter hours than a normal school day). I had to work every time she was in school which meant that every single day I was off work she was with me. I never had any real days to myself. I got a Tuesday every fortnight (if I was lucky I could actually enjoy it but I usually had to use it to tick off admin jobs or keep up with appointments or run errands). Of course that's exhausting!!!

I also had to accept that this year was not what I had planned for myself. It was supposed to be a wonderful year filled with social engagements and opening my home to friends and having more finances for living a life that propelled us forwards after the sale of our rental (our former home). I was supposed to not be working until my daughter was in full time school. Of course I had to accept all of this and grieve that it wasn't going to happen. Of course I achieved self growth that was needed and I don't regret my husband's and my time apart but it was tiring. Because of this...

...I lived a quiet life. Of course it's a big adjustment coming back to all of the social norms of marriage again. Having to 'come out' as reconciled so to speak. Not that we've made a big deal out of it, but it's still something that maybe I am subconsciously aware of. That every outing together and every social media post about our family's activities etc will be observed by those who knew we were separated (or guessed or gossiped about it). I socialised quietly. I had every second weekend to gather myself and regroup. I don't even have that now. That's OK (better than the alternative) but it's still an adjustment.

The kids are adjusting. Not only do I try to remember my compassion for them, but I also have to have it for myself as a parent to them. They're exhausted too. The usual end of year stuff, but with an extra layer of moving back in with Dad.

I haven't lived a routine yet!!! I've been in the house maybe 3 weeks and I have not found my groove. That takes time and it's an exceptional time of year. I have to remind myself that it will all settle. It's OK to not have nailed it.

I guess I just want to remind myself that this year was not normal and I should be proud of myself for all I've been through and survived and grown from. It's a huge achievement so I shouldn't be mad at myself for not 'doing enough' or feeling the same as I would any other year. So I haven't baked as much or taken my kids to as many festive events. They'll live. We will be OK. We haven't done nothing.

I'm about to be on break. Today is my last day working on site at the office. On Wednesday I work from my parents' home office (meaning less work and less effort required on my appearance etc).

I don't have school runs breaking up my days as much. My husband is not working horror hours like he did all of last week (HELLO - add that to my list of why I should not feel bad about my struggle to feel festive). I hope the holiday cheer will take me over in a couple of days when I realise I'm off work and I've done all I can to prepare for Christmas.

I shouldn't pressure myself to make things super magical. I think everyone feels a bit the same coming out of the worst pandemic years. We really need to feel that cheer but we are also exhausted and keep forgetting why.

I just want to focus on the positives and be kind to myself.

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necessaryvent · 3 years ago

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Moving day eve.

It doesn't feel real. Tonight my kids are out of here! I feel left out even though I'm one night behind them and we'll all be together tomorrow! I feel weird. I can't believe it won't be my home anymore (and I'm glad but it will be weird adjusting).

I have work today and then so much to figure out. Eep!

I was talking to my friend and saying that I feel weird not sharing the process of a huge thing that's happening in my life, on social media but she made me feel really validated when she said that I don't owe anyone who isn't close to me an explanation. That it doesn't make me a liar on my Instagram because I haven't lied. I haven't tried to deceive. I've just kept private things private. And that we did the right thing keeping our separation and reconciliation low key because we needed to figure things out for ourselves and not have a peanut gallery (who doesn't know us as well as we do) giving their 2 cents and muddying the waters. She said to just continue what we've been doing and that I should just post what I want to post.

Also, on the subject of my evil sister in law, I heard a quote the other day "There's a difference between talking shit about a person and telling the truth about a shitty person". I found this reassuring because there was a teeny tiny part of me that didn't want to seem like a hypocrite for saying 'mean' things about my SIL, considering she says them about me. BUT...I realise the difference is that she is not telling any kind of truth about me at all. She's a hurtful, hurt person who is projecting. I am just a person standing up for myself and standing up for what's right. That doesn't make me disrespectful to be able to say that her behaviour is horrible and I don't like her. Would my words make her upset or even hurt her feelings or make her feel mad? Yep for sure. But she already decided she hated me and nothing I do would be right for the rest of her life. I'm amazed at this weird grudge she's holding. I know my truth. She lacks self awareness and emotional intelligence. That's her problem, not mine. She was messed up (and so was her family) before she ever heard of me.

She feels threatened by me because I'm a person who KNOWS the bullshit that goes on in the family circle. Someone from the outside who has seen everyone at their most dysfunctional and is unlikely to ever normalise it. She feels threatened because her own brother chose me and has grown and that threatens her for the above reasons too. She must carry so much shame and so much anger. It's actually sad. But I don't feel sorry for a 50 year old woman who is mean spirited and shits on others. There's zero excuse. She could have had healing and love. She didn't want it enough to let it in. That's on her.

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necessaryvent · 3 years ago

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Dear Psycho Sister in Law (an open letter),

I want to thank you for being such a piece of work. You are a hypocritical POS. Poisonous. Toxic. I can't believe I've been related to someone like you - even if by marriage. Wow.

Yep, this is my cathartic, burn those bridges to the ground open letter where despite the fact that I always go high when you go low (and will continue to in person), this is my safe space to go scorched earth anonymously.

You made it clear to my husband (through your mother) that you no longer wish to have a relationship with him (or me but whatever) if he reconciles with me.

He chose me.

Do you know why he chose me? Because you've been a psycho bitch all your life. I have not. Who was there when you weren't? Me. Who hugged him and comforted him when you were being mean and pushing him away? Me. Who had his back when you both lost your brother? Me. Who put up with his past disrespect and yours far longer than I should have? Me.

Yet apparently your reason for hating me is that you think I'm disrespectful to him. Ha.

You never knew the whole story about anything. Guess you weren't that close as siblings, were you.

I turned up at Christmas after Christmas, despite so much disrespect. So did he.

You are using me as a scapegoat for the reason your relationships with your family are fucked up. Well, I don't fucking care anymore. Say what you like, think what you like. I used to want your approval. I used to think I should look up to you. But I don't want any part of that anymore. You're just a misogynistic stereotype of a female inlaw and it's gross.

I can get by without your approval. I definitely don't look up to you.

You've been through hell and back in your life and I have empathy for those things. But you know what? Fuck someone who spews their bullshit all over others to feel 'better'. There's no excuse. Your brother used to. But he's grown so much. He wanted to do better. And you hate that. You hate that I came into your family and I was there for him while he grew. And even when we separated he grew. Without me. On his own. Because it wasn't all about me being some evil controlling wife taking him away from you. Ever. In like the last thousand years you already had a problem with me. Your logic does not check out. You were a bitch and we got some boundaries after the fifteenth time you hurt someone's feelings. Don't get it twisted.

And the thing is, you don't feel better. You're a gross, toxic mess. Inside you're so unhappy. You're a miserable person with a shrivelled up heart. How's that going?

We haven't had a relationship in years. It's pretty funny that you lashed out all of a sudden. It's not like you were there for my husband when we were separated. You didn't exactly rush in to make sure he was OK. You still don't have the fucking balls to say anything to his face. It's all just empty threats through your mother. You're a fucking childish coward.

You're fucking jealous. You hate that he's got his life together and he's thriving. You hate that he gets to keep his kids and his marriage and his house. And a whole other family that loves him and checked in on him more than you did. You hate that we didn't follow the toxic break up script. You hate that there was nothing to hate and not enough drama so you created a reason.

Except what you've done is set him and me free. Just in time for Christmas.

I have always loved Christmas. I get it if you don't. But you're the kind of person who will shit on everyone else for loving something. Gross. So this year and all the years from now on, you don't exist. And it's cool because you are the one who disowned us. Bit late for that, but whatever.

I am excited to never have to tiptoe around your controlling ways and your disrespect ever again (fucking hypocrite - WHOOP). Especially not at Christmas time. This is genuinely the best gift you could have ever given us. I am actually grateful and not even in a sarcastic way. You have cleansed us of your murky vibes.

We have permission to not try with you anymore. To not waste energy on you. To not have to be the bigger people. We just won't exist to you at all and that's OK. That's what you told us to do (through your mother).

I am not hurt by your crap. Tell the whole world I'm some hideous human being who ruined your life. Who stole your brother and brainwashed him. Who once spoke tersely to him (rightly so if you'd known even the half of it) once in front of you in 2006. Because that's all I can fucking think of as your reason to hate me. I mean forget the fact that you acted like a fucking psycho over that. You out bitched me that day, bitch. And apparently, unbeknownst to me, you've held onto that for how many years?! Jesus. I only thought about you at Christmas when you'd pop up like a fucking Grinch.

I know your other brother's wife gets away with being her authentic self. So I know it's purely me and not my so called behaviour that you hate. You really mean to tell me you've never heard her snap at her husband? Or give him a look? Or say anything that says she thinks he's being ridiculous or whatever? As if you haven't heard your mother groan about her staying at her house and taking over everything (some would call that controlling)? Yeah, exactly. But you're OK with her because she doesn't scare you. Despite her being way more assertive than I was for the most years. Fucking interesting isn't it. She never saw your mother at her most psycho. She never received your venom. Her husband shielded her and himself from the drama. My husband made the mistake of trying with you. Of jumping in and wanting to fix. Of trying to be loyal. But he got burnt. And so did I. By association.

But my husband has learned from that and you can't handle it.

You hate him because he gives off 'big brother' energy and you miss your actual big brother. He reminds you of him and you feel he has no right to. Because you don't actually know what love is. You only know control and emotional abuse. And some of that is your parents' fault. But you know what? You could have done the work like my husband did. You could have wanted better. But you raised 3 emotionally stunted people and you have a husband who stays away from you whenever he can.

So I'm sorry but your opinions on how we should live our lives doesn't hold much weight.

I know I'll get the blame for my husband calling your bluff. But this was all him and it has been all him for a long time and if it ever wasn't totally him, it was because you hurt me too and I deserve boundaries just as much as anyone else.

This is my goodbye letter.

You know what? My husband and I have been grateful for our separation. It saved us. We worked on ourselves individually and we supported each other's growth. I know. The idea of ever doing that yourself is laughable.

We didn't have fights over custody. I didn't take him for everything he has. We didn't run around town slutting it up with other people for revenge. We didn't do any of that toxic shit. We coparented amazingly and we talked through anything we had issues with.

Revolutionary, I know. And because of this we stripped away the bullshit and resentment that really got bad during the pandemic and realised there really was so much love that was still there.

We didn't follow the script and that confuses you and your damn family. Turns out that not everything has to be a disgusting drama. Who knew??

We have shown more courage than you'll ever have. You feel threatened by me. Good. That's on you. It shows that you want to stay down low in life and you're just mad you couldn't hold everyone down at your level.

Your husband is generally a reasonable dude. But he unfollowed me on social media. I only realised when I went to block you once and for all guilt free upon hearing about your outburst.

You all really throw people away as quick as you can. Yuck. What did you think you were doing? Taking sides? Glad to be rid of me? Hilarious.

I won't miss any of you fickle bitches.

Thank you for gifting my husband to my family. You were so scared that my family would 'win' your imaginary competition. Self fulfilling prophecy much. My people never abandoned him. Interesting huh. They actually listened to what was happening in our lives and how we were handling things. They saw things and took note. They didn't just hold onto preconceived notions and run with them. They didn't just dump him or take sides immediately. We went on a motherfucking holiday WHILE SEPARATED with them. And it was fun and good and everyone had a really awesome time and it wasn't even weird.

My mum got mad at him (and rightly so at the time) and then SHE SAW HIS GROWTH. And treated him accordingly.

You just saw what you wanted to see. You wanted it to be toxic so you made it toxic in your head.

You want to see bad things about me. Your emotional maturity is underground. The bar is in hell.

The funny thing is, I know that you know that I'm a good person. There is evidence of this from the between years. You're just irrational and a massive jerk. Triggered by news of our separation and reconciliation.

I think that's what we call a YOU problem.

And yeah, I'm being damn disrespectful in this letter yo.

But I'll still never be as awful as you. So I'm OK with that. I'm speaking my truth. When you're nailing your life, I'll listen.

I can handle your disrespect, because that's just who you are. I don't give a shit anymore. Do what you like. Nobody who believes you is worth my time.

You're a shit parent. You're a shit sister. Whatever. I'm none of those things.

But you know what? You disrespected someone who I really care about. Your own brother. You don't love him and I honestly can't fathom that. You don't want what's good for him (even if it wasn't me you don't have his back). You did not once think about him when you made your declaration of disowning us. You only thought about yourself.

What kind of sister doesn't envision a really great future for her brother (with or without me in it)?? Who wouldn't want him to grow and heal and for him to know you've got his back in a way that makes him feel safe and loved? Who wouldn't want him to have the opportunity to keep his marriage and get to live with his kids in the house they only just bought together? To be able to get his dream life back on track? Who wouldn't want to see him finally achieve those things? And even if you still didn't want me there, what amount of time did you put into thinking about the kind of woman you'd love to see him with and what his life would look like if he had a blended family and how he could move forward with success? I am not a betting woman, but I'll guess you didn't actually think about him at all.

And you know what? You'd hate the next woman anyway. She wouldn't be good enough and you'd judge her on her 'baggage' if she had kids and an ex (FUCKING HYPOCRITE) and you'd judge her on not having enough baggage if she didn't have either of those things. Also the next woman would be older than the baby I was when I got together with him and she'd probably take even less 'inlaw' bullshit than I ever did. She'd be outta there. She'd probably even throw my husband out just to get away from everyone the first minute they showed their true colours.

It's almost like you don't want your brother to be happy. Interesting.

And gross. You're gross.

If me being your scapegoat convinces your family to stop trying to force each other together and to accept that it's a fractured situation then I will happily be a part of that. No more pretending. No more stress. No more group gatherings that are as awkward as fuck.

It's honestly the biggest gift because we can close the door on you without guilt. We can have the fresh start my husband needs. You're actually helping our marriage. Your family was a huge factor in our issues. Not all of them but a lot. Your family's situation was a big looming thing just haunting us and affecting his behaviour and feelings. He was constantly torn between wanting your approval and wanting to be his own person. Now he can just focus on being his best self and know that he wants to be nothing like you.

He chose me. He chose his kids. He chose peace. He chose growth. I'm proud of him. So yeah, if I had any part in him rejecting your bullshit then I am not as upset as you'd like me to be. Why would you want him to be any other way? Shame on you.

Love,

Me. Apparently your worst nightmare.

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necessaryvent · 3 years ago

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Anxiety. Can't sleep.

I've struggled to sleep since our big decision became real.

I don't know what to do with myself and my feelings. At times I'm not even sure what my feelings even are. I don't want to overanalyse or overthink everything but I feel like I should figure stuff out a bit because it might help my anxiety. I don't even know.

My life is about to change in a huge way. I have spent a lot of this year living with my parents. I have become used to some psychological independence. I am taking a leap of faith in moving back in with my husband (as he is too). Moving itself is stressful. The kids' feelings and needs are important to me and they will be experiencing all kinds of emotions and changes themselves.

I know our decision is the right decision. I don't doubt that part. I think this is just one of those 'omg a huge thing is happening and I'm freaking out' situation. I really hope that by the time our shit is moved in, I'll start to feel less crazy anxiety.

All of the positives outweigh the negatives, but my dumb animal brain likes to forget that and just freak out generally.

Sleeping here is hard because there are fucking noisy birds and other wildlife. There are cats. There is the knowledge that my kids are sharing walls with me and not wanting to disturb them. So many fucking noises.

I plan on spending some time at the house today and Thursday - moving things and organising and just generally soaking up what it will feel like to have ownership over it again. I hope this will help me to feel a bit more in control, empowered and excited rather than freaked out. I need to feel like the house is mine again.

Because I think feeling like I'm moving into 'my husband's place' is not good for me mentally and that dynamic/mentality has to shift for both of us or this won't go very smoothly.

I need to feel like I'm returning home. Because I am. I need to feel like that is my life again (the good parts - fresh start of course).

I worry a little I guess. I don't want to be moving back because the housing market is shit (despite the money I made from sale of our old place). I don't want to be moving back because I don't want to live with my parents anymore. I don't want to feel like the 18 year old dickhead I once was just making big life decisions without understanding the consequences.

I guess my anxiety is not necessarily about my husband. It's about the reality of having to deal with his family again. I want to rebuild a HEALTHY relationship with them (if possible - it's on them if it won't work) and we have to negotiate Christmas with the two families not long after. I know my husband has kept them in the dark a lot about our situation so I guess I'm worried about their reactions if we blindside them. I am probably anxious about whether this transition will go ok with both of us anxious and adjusting to big changes. Because it would stress any normal person out no matter how much they love each other. I also (even though I'm sure it's not a great idea) have probably had this sense of 'waiting' for my life to re-start. So I've probably unconsciously put myself on hold until we are back together/until I move out from my parents' house. That's a lot of (self created) pressure. It's probably not what a therapist would agree with and I know this. Maybe I should have worked through that.

We lived there less than a year before we were separated. And much of that year I felt financially held back (not to mention lockdowns for Covid). I feel like I was ripped off! I am glad to have another chance. Any longer not living there and it would be bad because then it would become my husband's house only and I don't know if I could have come back. He would have lived there alone longer than he'd lived there with us.

I just have to remember: one foot in front of the other.

I also need to stop beating myself up and worrying so much. I have so much to be proud of. I may have felt 'on hold' and I may have felt like a regressed teen with unresolved issues at my parents' house, but I did a lot. I went back to work. I had the courage to protect our kids from a lot of emotional instability. I learned to be my own person again. To care for myself. I had to face some tough stuff I've been carrying a long time. I co-parented amicably with my husband. We showed people (most importantly our kids) what a healthy 'break up' looks like. I have been able to forgive things I thought I would be bitter about forever (so has he).

I got through this year. Even that would be enough.

I protected my family. Maybe I felt like I was in hiding, but I protected them and that's more to the point.

Today I will go and buy nice things for the house and I will enjoy the space.

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necessaryvent · 3 years ago

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Things I'm excited about.

It's finally happening. I am moving back in with my husband in less than a week. My parents have been supportive. Some issues have been aired with them. It doesn't feel real. I'm excited but I know it will be a big transition.

I look forward to having more independence. I wanted to take some time to write about the things I'm excited about. Because it's easy to get lost in dreading the moving day logistics or not believing this is real. And I haven't journalled about this situation in so long.

Here's the stuff I am excited about (in no particular order):

making a home again - being able to see home decor in stores and not feel sad. Being able to have a place of my own to pretty up and be proud of.

Doing my laundry in my big machine and in my own way, at my own pace. Not in my parents' tiny machine, having to share it with when they need their laundry done. Being able to enjoy the under cover washing line at the house (at my parents' if it rains there's nowhere to hang the washing and I end up putting it off because they get a bit annoying about a clothes rack being up inside because it clutters the house up).

Not sharing a kitchen. Not having to walk from one room to another to food prep for a meal (my fridge and cupboard are in a separate room from the kitchen). Not having to do everything to clean up IMMEDIATELY after dinner because my parents need the kitchen. Just not sharing space in general will be amazing. Any mess will be our mess only. I can do things in my own time. Being able to know that how I leave things is how they'll stay until I want to move them etc. My mum swoops in a lot and she's being helpful but it makes me feel guilty and it makes me feel like she thinks I wouldn't do it on my own.

Not feeling like I'm being watched. Like not having my mum noting everything I do and don't do. She's my boomer mum. She's going to.

Having space from the kids. Not having my bedroom so close to them. Being able to move about when they're sleeping without disturbing them. There are certain 'light sleeping' hours I can't go to the toilet because I know my daughter will wake up. Having an ensuite (my own bathroom!) will be amazing. Not having to keep my personal shit in one small (it's not tiny but it's small for a whole person who used to have their own house) room. This does mean storage issues. I'd normally have a home office for storing documents and shit. I'd normally have my make up etc kept in my ensuite and not in my bedroom. I would have my own places for things. I know my privilege is showing but you have to understand that I worked so hard to have my dream house and I only got a taste of it before having to move out. Now I get another chance.

Not having animals IN the house. We have a dog who lives outside, but at my parents' place there are 4 cats and an indoor dog that sheds. This means animal fluff on so many things and also cats meowing in the night and shit like that. For an anal boomer, my mum sure does let her house literally stink of cat shit constantly due to the litter trays (which are emptied and changed out regularly but still - it's not something I would put up with and a reason I don't want cats - husband is allergic anyway). Do I love the animals themselves? Yes. Do I want to live with them? No.

Having black out curtains again. The days are getting longer. I am sleeping less. I'm awake at 4:30am with the sounds of birds and the sunlight here. I know there are birds at the other house but to have no sunlight tricking me will be great.

Settling in and living an authentic life again. I admit I've had hang ups about living with my parents. It held me back from sharing my life on social media (something I enjoy). I didn't want gossip from people noticing I wasn't at my house. I felt embarrassed. But also, I didn't want to make a big deal out of our separation because deep down there was always hope for reconciliation so we only told certain people in our social circles about our situation if we needed to. Maybe that's something I should have overcome or something but I never felt truly comfortable. I've had to be guarded and protective and while I should never have felt embarrassed or ashamed, most of it was for good reason. A lot of people have no issue being private, but I am someone who thrives best when I can be open and feel like I can show my authentic self. Also it could be the ADHD in me - feeling the need to share and to be really open and honest or else I'll bust or melt down (hopefully on the inside LOL). I want to be able to talk to camera and have my home in the background. I want to come 'out' so to speak (not like that haha). I want to be able to just be. My husband and I have been in talks towards reconciliation for a while. But we had to protect the kids in case it wasn't going to happen. We've had to show affection secretly. We've had to not tell too many people that we were likely to reconcile (I guess it's like not wanting to tell people you're pregnant too early). Being back at home and living as a family under one roof is where we belong now. We've done the work and we're proud of ourselves. We did a brave thing and I am not actually ashamed of that. A lot of people I know would never have the guts to do what we did when things get toxic. I am going to be glad to talk about it to anyone after the fact. But when you're in it, sometimes you just have to be in it. And that was our business and we had stuff to figure out. We didn't need the noise of a peanut gallery (our true friends have been really supportive and will be so happy for us - a green flag I think!). I'm so excited to be able to openly show affection with each other. Even around the kids - to be able to role model what a happy and healthy relationship should look like.

I just look forward to a fresh start. Even living with my parents was not a fresh start. Ideally I should have lived by myself (with the kids but you know what I mean). It would have given me the space to feel that "fresh start" feeling. But financially and housing wise it was not going to be easy at all. I am grateful to have had my parents' help. So I felt at times like I was battling the past in ways that were more difficult than they might have been if I'd had my own space. My childhood shit or my marriage shit. Sigh. But somehow I have been through all that and still found myself again. And that's all that matters. Just imagine what my independent, self caring self can do in my own house with a supportive spouse and my own income (it's not much but it's mine - don't get up my arse for saying that - it is mine and it contributes to my family in more ways than one)!

I want to mind my own business at home and have my own business minded (probably repeating an earlier point but whatever). I guess I'm not just talking about my parents here.

I'm excited to have people over and for the kids to have people over. That was something I really wanted last time around and I never got to enjoy it. It was a big deal for me to entertain and feel proud of our house. I hadn't felt that before. I want that joy and openness again.

I am excited for hot water - filling up the kitchen sink without the aid of a kettle. Having a shower that doesn't require minding a bunch of factors in order to make sure it's not a cold one.

There are so many things I want to do. I can't wait.

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necessaryvent · 3 years ago

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ADHD and my need to talk.

I'm supposed to be working right now but my creative brain is really craving self expression. So I've turned to my tumblr for that. I've become delusional enough to believe I wish I had a podcast so I could talk shit every day and people could hear it haha. I do so many voice messages back and forth with my friend A that I think I could pull it off haha. I won't though. It's crazy talk. I just like the idea of having a dedicated place to talk out loud about everything without worrying about spamming my friends haha. Like subscribe if you want, but if you don't want to then don't!

Still, I've surprised myself before with the opportunities that have presented themselves to me so who knows!

I don't know if it's the ADHD but I just have to talk out loud each day. I need a healthy outlet though. I don't want it to be long phone calls to my mum or podcast length voice messages to A.

I need to do something! Sometimes I used to read myself a book out loud. Just to verbalise something.

Sometimes instagram stories or whatever can help but I don't want to talk just for the hell of it. Maybe I should record myself, listen back once and delete.

Anyway, that's all for now. I'm a weirdo.

#my adhd

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necessaryvent · 3 years ago

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More layers of the onion.

I am long overdue some journalling time. I am so tired and emotionally drained right now. Yesterday was a lot. It was exhausting to let big feelings out. I cried lots. I can tell growth has happened because this feeling probably used to be my normal and this time it feels really obviously not normal. I woke feeling nauseous in the night from the emotion of the day and I still feel a bit that way. I am up earlier than I needed to be because my daughter wet the bed (she was trying to sleep without a pull up).

I hate living here (at my parents') and I am starting to see light at the end of the tunnel, but that just makes things all the more frustrating. Don't get me wrong, I love my parents, they have done a lot of good, kind, supportive things and I am grateful for them giving me a safe space to be this year. But I have had to process a lot and if it wasn't for me having to return to work and not be able to go to therapy appointments, this would definitely be the topic at the moment!

So, basically when I was in a toxic relationship with my husband, I relied on my parents emotionally a lot. I idealised them and held their opinions up as gospel and I did really need them. I needed them to offer perspective and to be able to show me what I couldn't always see clearly. Things were wrong in my relationship and I needed their support to navigate my way through some tough times. I wasn't getting emotional support or quality time from him and my parents were available to talk to and also to help me create memories with the kids when he was mentally and emotionally absent (let alone physically).

I was codependent with him and in a way, codependent with my parents. In particular my mum - who is also a strong personality (a Leo).

Now that I've had time to process a lot, I'm feeling less codependent. I've been able to find more of a sense of independence from my husband. I've been able to see the difference between the stuff that really matters and the stuff that was weighing me down. I have been able to separate my trauma from my present day life and my husband and I have made great strides. The kids are more happy and stable (yes - this is partially due to my parents being supportive) and there has been a lot of healing. Time, space and what we've done with it has made a big difference. Things were not all great before, but the pandemic had really finished things off at the most toxic level in 20 years. We had to break the cycle.

The thing is, for a long time my husband made himself my focus. I enabled that too. I was so consumed with his shit that I couldn't look at my shit - he would suck the air out of a room to be really honest. And I would let him. I practically offered him the big ass straw to do it with. It was all about his moods, his work, his emotions, his bad habits, the trauma etc. I was hyper vigilant.

I don't blame myself for that (although I take responsibility). I have compassion for myself about why that came about. Now I have the power to not go back there.

Anyway, what I'm saying is that this made me unable to see anything else in my life that needs some work.

Now that his shit is far less a worry of mine, I have been able to see where I could improve (when you're under attack you can't do anything but defend yourself and then be accused of thinking you're perfect when you've not said or thought anything of the kind). I have been able to work on myself as an individual and find myself as an individual. I know now I will never sacrifice myself for others the way I was before. I will buy the things. I will make my own decisions without agonising over his facial expressions or lack of enthusiasm.

But I have also realised my parents aren't perfect. I have been able to remove them from the pedestal and see them as human and it's hard. I thought my mum was almost perfect. She had insight, was supportive, always motivated, independent etc. I wanted to mostly be her.

Now I realise she can be an absolute Karen about restaurants and hotels etc. Not in a totally psycho way, but she just notices all the negatives and expects zero mistakes and will talk mostly about the stuff that wasn't perfect and not enough about the good stuff that happened. She will wave down waitstaff and get a snotty tone on when she doesn't like something. Not James Corden level - she's polite - but she is blunt. And honestly, I wouldn't like her if I was serving her. But I wouldn't be able to say she was rude. Know what I mean?

She can also be selfish but make it sound like she thinks you're selfish. For example if I ask if she can babysit (obviously she does so much while we're living here but I mostly mean before we moved in), her first response is "I can't commit" and then she names a bunch of dates and commitments and she might be available but she won't do it and I do respect that she has boundaries but she's so cold about it that you'd think I asked her to donate a kidney on her one weekend off, not just floated a date and asked if she could help. I am not entitled by any means. But she somehow makes me feel like I think I am. She will make travel plans last minute when I've had something booked for months and not even be sorry. Yet she talks about how her parents hardly ever babysat us. It's not like I ask often. I am grateful to have her nearby but it's not of much use to be honest (when I'm not living with her I mean).

My mum is very neurotypical. Probably a unicorn these days. But I am not. And I think growing up (like many boomers) she didn't understand me at all. I have some trauma about being called "dramatic" and "overemotional" and "lazy" all the time. I am sure I was, but those words really stuck and I carry lots of shame about the traits of being ADHD and I only just realised that this year. I have been able to see how moving back in with my parents felt scary because of this and how I carried that shame into my relationship which my husband sensed and exploited at the time (I suspect he is ADHD but the shame spanned generations in his family so I do believe it was internalised and passed down by people).

I have been able to address that shame and talk to other ADHD women. I have been able to lose that shame (or at least work on it) and become more supportive of my son who definitely has it. This has made me less hesitant to have him diagnosed and I know that my acceptance of my neurodivergence will make his life better too.

Seeing my parents (in particular my mum) as just an ordinary human is hard. I cry and freak out about standing up to her. I probably need therapy about that. It's because she thinks she's pretty awesome and she thinks she's self aware but only to a certain point. She can be quite defensive and get quite bristly and it's definitely her Leo side coming out.

She can fat shame me (under the guise of wanting me to be healthy). Last week she brought my weight up so much it was just hurtful. I know there's a generation gap there and a lot of times it's because of the stigma boomers grew up with, but it's so hard to listen to. We got home from an amazing holiday which was much needed and during which I was really stoked with being able to be so active after a hard winter (and I had a nice tan and embraced my body and how I looked in my bathing suits), and I was told something along the lines of needing to lose weight now or something. I was reminded of being puffed out when I was helping on the block before we left and how it wasn't normal for someone my age to struggle like that. Don't get me wrong, I knew I was really unfit but most people know this. They don't need some skinnier bitch to tell them. Like let me be happy and motivated on my own (I was). Then when I said I actually had intentions of getting back into looking after my health more (especially when my friend got told she was borderline diabetic and knowing I'm at risk after having gestational diabetes twice and having put on weight over the pandemic) she took that and ran with it. Like I know how to do it, I'd identified that I wanted to do it for myself, and she started mentioning my weight and my portion sizes and reminding me of how much bigger for my frame I am. The other day I wanted to exercise (a home work out on youtube) and she completely unmotivated me. Luckily I didn't let her win, but it shows that her way of talking to me is NOT INSPIRING. I was doing fine on my own!!!

My brother can stand up to her and he takes space from her when needed (he lives across the country so it's easier for him haha). She will get a little "Ooh he doesn't like this or that" but she tiptoes around him on certain issues and doesn't want him to fall off the radar. She wants his approval. With me, it's more complicated because I hate admitting it but I desperately want hers. If I don't get it I'm a mess. This is hard because my husband and I want to reconcile and while I completely understand my parents' concerns and questions, I know it will be hard but we can address those (we know our truth and we know how hard we've worked). Still, it's nerve wracking for me.

Also my mum is judgmental. She thinks she's just analytical and psychologically switched on (she is), but sometimes she takes it too far. She always tells me the faults of her friends as parents. So I'm afraid to be an imperfect parent. I'm afraid to be in an imperfect relationship (imperfect is fine - I know that what we had before was terrible don't get me wrong - unhealthy is not fine). I hear about how her friends all fucked their kids up. I hear about every teeny tiny thing my husband gets wrong. Don't get me wrong, he's done important things wrong before that needed to be called out. But she goes too far now. I feel like he's being watched like a hawk and that's not helping my healing process because I have had to stop taking on that trait of hers and it's important that I do not spiral into overthinking and overanalysing. Like she is role modelling that hyper vigilance and I think she's done it for a long time. I have had to work really hard to trust myself and my judgement and I feel like she's undermining that.

I don't know how to tell her a lot of that stuff.

I do know that I can't live here forever. It will damage me again. And what's the point of healing from all that stuff with my husband if I come out of it just as damaged but by another relationship with my parents.

I can't be codependent with them and scared to do things my way.

I am most likely moving myself and the kids back into our house with my husband soon and it's not been a small, quick decision. A lot of thinking and talking and healing has happened on both sides. But I am excited for a new chapter and I hope my parents will accept that. I trust myself and I trust my intuition. That's all I can do. I am completely aware of any reasons for concerns, but they don't know everything. And I can't prove it to them. It's for me and him to prove to each other. They will hopefully see in time.

I just want my life to feel real and like it's my own again.

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necessaryvent · 3 years ago

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Unpopular opinion rant.

I have been scrolling twitter and finding some comments that are really beginning to piss me off. I'm sure I'm taking them too personally but I do resent the generalisations.

I have seen people completely shit on any kind of residential rental property landlord. Just a blanket hate on everyone who owns an investment property. Apparently we are all scum who want to profit off others. We are all heartless and rich AF and it's only because of generational wealth that we can afford to have more than one property.

I'm calling bullshit. But (as chicken as it sounds) I don't feel safe to do so publicly.

I am not right wing. Nothing my (kind of ex) husband and I have had together has come from generational wealth. Nothing either of us has rented out has turned any profit but rather covered costs (barely if at all - I'll get to that). My in-laws might have given a small (and I mean small) handout to my husband when he bought his first house for like $125000 or something ridiculously cheap like that in the early 2000s (keep in mind we are millennials and not boomers). They probably gave $5000 or something as a gift, which I am not saying doesn't help but it hardly makes him a rich brat who didn't have to do the bulk of the work. And honestly his parents were so tight fisted and controlling with money all his childhood (long story) that it actually caused trauma. And I mean actual trauma. Not a brat crying about not getting spoiled 'trauma'. I mean, actual genuine fear and anxiety about spending money, causing him to become controlling, angry and financially abusive (where did he learn it from huh) for a time. That's a bit of a side issue but this is my rant so too bad.

I am not in any way trying to make out that we didn't grow up with privileges. I am just saying that if you do have some privilege (ie your parents owned your home growing up and you never went hungry) you should appreciate it and not cry poor like his parents did. I could say they were the real jerks because having a property portfolio of like 6 houses was more important to them than giving their kids a childhood (they'd cry poor because they were too focused on their own retirements and not on living in the moments with their kids) but even then they were never unfair landlords and did a lot of work on their houses themselves.

Not all of us ask for unfair rent. Not all of us are heartless monsters who don't care about people having places to live. Tenants aren't angels either.

Last year we were finally ready to buy a property we could love. Something we envisioned to be our forever home (that's a long story - read back on this journal). We did not choose wisely (the new house was a wise choice - I mean what we chose to do with the other house was not wise) but we had good intentions in trialling our first property as an investment. We couldn't really cover costs just with rent (not even close) but we wondered if we could cover the mortgage and landlord insurance, and the bank (plus the maths) said we could survive with 2 properties in our names, if maybe it was worth it to give someone a home and to pay off the mortgage long enough that the house would give us something back (maybe property prices would rise - there had been a slump in our local area for a while). We were aware of the rental crisis and were adamant that we did not want to charge so much rent that it was unreasonable.

We had tenants that stayed for a year. Turned out we knew them as friends of friends and I recalled the husband as having been in my grade 3 class. He went to the same high school as my brother but we never knew each other closely. It's just where we live there are only ever a couple of degrees of separation and they were chosen by the real estate company.

These tenants wanted the perks of being home owners without any of the responsibility of owning a house. I don't know everything about them but I am fairly confident that they could actually own if they wanted to. He had a stable mining job and they were able to afford rent that cost more than what we'd paid for the original mortgage. But they treated the house like crap and got away with it because they were buddies with the property manager. He (the tenant) had a complex that my therapist calls "tom cat" syndrome. He wanted to make it his own but at our expense. He had laid out all these conditions when they moved in - wanting to install this and that and was very quick to point out the slightest imperfections (let me point out that we had made sure the house was really nice and in good condition when we moved out - we slaved away at it - keep in mind it was fit for us to live in for many years).

Meanwhile, I was trying to make a home during the pandemic in our new place and couldn't afford to. I didn't want to recreate my husband's childhood for our kids (putting investment properties above my kids' experiences in life) but we had overextended, despite the maths working, and the rent was not covering all the extra expenses - water service bills, rates, real estate fees, repairing or replacing of things that inexplicably give up after years of being reliable (like a jinx because you moved out). We didn't get any actual rent in our bank account for months - the costs to set up a rental property through an agency are substantial. It was rough. It wasn't the lifestyle we wanted. I couldn't afford to host anyone at our lovely new place. I couldn't afford many clothes (and no I'm not talking designer or brand names) or basic restorative self care (again I know my privilege and it's something that in the ideal world everyone deserves - especially burnt out stay and home parents). I couldn't do small luxuries at all. Couldn't buy tickets to events. Couldn't meet friends for lunch. Couldn't afford activities for the kids. Again, not a sob story. Just a reminder that we are human too.

I felt like we'd made a mistake. I had emotional baggage with that house and I felt like now it was affecting my new chapter of life, which was the opposite of what we were trying to achieve. But despite our rights as landlords (as opposed to what's right), we didn't turf our tenants out early so we could sell when the season was right etc. We stuck it out. Because I didn't want to make them homeless or muck their family around. I knew how hard it is to move houses. I knew they had 4 children (too many for the home to be honest). I also admittedly didn't want his circle of family and friends in this small world we live in to think poorly of us.

We waited the entire year's lease that they'd signed before selling. They would need to look for another place to live while the house was on the market and the real estate company helped set up a month to month arrangement with the rent until they found somewhere or we sold.

Like I said, it's been a pandemic. Circumstances change. A lot of landlords are like us - we had the best of intentions. Everyone took hits in some way or other in their lives. Obviously some worse than others. My husband and I separated! We had always planned to sell the house but now it took on extra meaning because that would become a very important nest egg for me - a person who had been a SAHM for a decade and made a lot of sacrifices.

During the time the house was on the market, the tenants deliberately left crap around. They refused to allow home open times that were helpful in selling. The selling agent had to hide dirty underwear that had been left around and wash dishes before potential buyers turned up. They were basically sabotaging us. Acting annoyed and entitled about having to move. I cannot stress enough that this was NOT THEIR HOUSE. It's not that we didn't have empathy. But it's the reality of the situation. We couldn't sell until they were out of the house months later. I am sure they had anxiety about finding somewhere new in this market and that's why we were patient. But the arrogance of the guy (the tenant) was astounding. All of their rental inspections were of a messy house (the real estate did not have our backs - they should be an unbiased middle person and we were the ones paying them to manage the property - not the tenants). There was a plumbing issue (with a literal $6 fix) that they had allowed to get out of hand without telling us (they had nothing to lose as it would be our responsibility to fix it - they probably just didn't want us to see how they lived or thought it was an F U to us for selling). They were being jerks.

They didn't totally trash the place or anything hideous. But a lot of tenants are a bit careless or go rogue with weird choices. That adds to expenses a landlord has to cover (sure there's a bond but some things just aren't covered). Expenses you don't have to wear if you're a tenant.

The landlords are not always bad guys. We could have sold the house quicker if we'd kicked them out and made them homeless (as was our right) on a date of our choosing (their lease was up). As a result we fell behind financially during that time.

It turns out the new buyer wants to use it as an investment property. They are from a state where the cost of living and property prices are astronomical. They obviously want to get in on the lower prices here. After learning some things about the realtors that have facilitated the sale from interstate, I have no doubt they are trying to exploit the market here (and therefore tenants). They will charge much more for rent. They already helped investors buy the house next door to it from interstate and I almost fainted when I saw what they were advertising for rent compared to us. It seemed wrong to be honest and I don't agree with this. BUT...in saying that, it was probably calculated in a cold business like way to cover expenses. And a majority of landlords just want to cover expenses if there's still a mortgage. And we had to sell. It's not our business who we sell to and I feel bad but I can't afford to take a stand for moral reasons. Maybe we should be penalising these people instead.

We need to look at what's wrong with the system. The private rental industry is not going to solve the bigger problems with housing affordability. Because a lot of us who own investment properties are just trying to make ends meet and hopefully (bare minimum) pay off a mortgage. We are renting to people who could have been our friends - our peers. We care. We are all suffering with inflation and bad decisions or circumstances that have had nothing to do with us. Not all of us are Liberal party (the conservative party despite the misleading name) profiteering politicians or big time CEOs. Or rich people's kids who never worked for their wealth.

Not all of us are boomers. Some of us were very young adults who worked hard from very young to secure property for our futures when we probably should or could have been travelling or doing other things. To do that means ticking all of the banks' boxes to be eligible for a loan. That takes sacrifice. And again there is privilege involved. I am not at all suggesting that I think anyone/everyone can do it. This world is far from fair.

I guess my point of it all is that not every landlord has bad/selfish/heartless intentions and I am sick of us being shat on in social media rants like we're all one and the same. Some of us are really trying to help and to just get by ourselves. We aren't all trying to trample on others to get a leg up. We aren't all millionaires out of touch with the common person. Some of us are a version of that common person who for some reason or another has an opportunity to invest. To add another house to a struggling market.

It is illogical to claim all landlords are evil if they are the ones providing you with a house to live in. If there were no landlords (ie no more evil people with investment properties which apparently is all of us) then where the fuck would you live? That's the bigger question. Maybe that's the point. Maybe we aren't the answer and more has to be done to provide housing that is affordable across the board. If we had continued to own the house and keep renting it out we would have been crippled. Surely that's not fair either. With the cost of living rising (while our wages do not), we would have been forced to sell anyway. So it was really unfair of our tenants to be jerks. And you could say, "oh but your choices led to you not making the wisest investment" but I could say to a lot of renters (but definitely not all) that their life choices trapped them in being slaves to the rental market. I guarantee our tenants could have afforded to buy the house from us and never move again. But for whatever reason they had made life choices that stopped them from doing so (keep in mind I know the family of the husband and some background knowledge - he had all the capabilities and opportunities but had evidently made other choices in life).

Again I don't want my words twisted. I'm saying that for every shitty rich and unethical landlord out there, there are so many more who genuinely mean well for everyone involved. And for every entitled, jerk faced tenant there are many more forced into the market through circumstances that are definitely not a choice.

Let's stop making generalisations and actually try to solve problems we are capable of solving. If nothing is stopping you from buying, then buy instead of whining about being a slave to 'the man' (because what you are making in this specific situation is a CHOICE). Where we live, chances are your mortgage would cost far less than your rent. If you are an investor who can afford it, freeze your rent. The problem is far from solved but we have to take personal responsibility before being jerks and pitting people against each other. We had to sell and while we showed compassion to our tenants they showed none to us because they bought into the stereotypes and that wasn't fair either. I don't ever want to be a landlord again. I just want to focus on enriching my own life from now on. And maybe that's the problem. Maybe the not evil landlords are getting out of the market because our hearts and wallets can't take it. I feel forced to make a selfish choice because I can't be a villain, according to everyone, anymore.

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necessaryvent · 3 years ago

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Trauma dreams.

I'm not talking nightmares. I'm talking the work your brain does on your old traumas when you're sleeping.

I used to have trauma dreams and wake up feeling hopeless and more hurt. I would always have them when my husband and I were in a good phase together and I would feel like these dreams were wrecking everything and it was so unfair to be reminded of the ways he'd hurt me.

Now I tend to have these dreams when he has the kids and I finally have the opportunity to rest and sleep well. My brain obviously looks for times to do the work when I am more relaxed and can cope? I guess looking back on when I was living with my husband my perspective was different. Because in a lot of ways I was still living the trauma in cycles.

This morning I woke up from mine and felt really good. I am glad my brain worked on this stuff. I'm glad there was an element of hope in my dreams this time. I'm glad I could wake up and feel like that stuff is in the past. I'm free of so much stuff now. I feel proud that I've healed as much as I have (of course there's always work to do but I can celebrate progress). I am glad that I talked to my therapist about my trauma dreams because she reinforced that it's my brain working through stuff and that's not necessarily bad, even if the trauma is.

In the dream I was moving back in with my husband. It was our dream place on the water (literally). My parents had given their blessings (I always care about their approval and I've struggled with feelings about that). It was our first night back together. I had feelings of insecurity. I was worried that my husband thought of himself as the actual owner of the house even though it was half mine. He had said something about this and I felt upset about that and wanted to confront him (in a healthy way) but whenever I tried to, the neighbours were right there or the kids were around (this has happened in real life so often). The neighbours had often been a source of insecurity (the ones we lived next to at the old place we are in the process of selling - see what you did there subconscious).

I was like, really? We still have the same neighbours?? I felt haunted by them. Although the dude had moved out because of *that* real life cheating scandal. Anyway, the chick T was having a party with heaps of kids and adults and they started just walking on into our place. There were no boundaries and I felt frustrated - like who did these people think they were?

We (my husband and I) sat on a balcony overlooking the water (but on the water) and realised we'd never sat there together before and how beautiful it was. A moment of appreciation. A moment where we realised things were OK. Excitement for the future. Time we'd carved out to sit together. But soon we realised the neighbours (imaginary dream people from the whole community - not just next door) shared that space and we had to sit with them and everything rocked a lot (because it was on the water) and was unsteady and while the community feeling was cool at first, I realised our own space wasn't really ours.

Anyway, long story short, I think the dream was about feeling like life: work, outside distractions, demanding kids etc always got in the way of us sorting our shit. And I have some insecurity about moving back into the house (the real life one) and wanting to be sure it won't be like the old traumatic days when my husband had been quite controlling as a boyfriend and I had no say in my space (a very deep trauma I've taken years to heal from even after he changed his ways). The good thing about the dream was that I had new ways I wanted to communicate with him and it was a reminder that things are different now. And waking up and feeling free has been a really amazing feeling this morning.

I'm almost free of the house we're selling (probably why the old neighbours were in the dream). I've been free of a situation where I was always scared of neighbours hearing us argue, because now we're not arguing (and not arguing like *that* anymore - another trauma). I'm free of waking from trauma dreams just to have to keep living it - feeling trapped. I have choices now. Big, hard ones, but I do have choices. Go back or don't go back.

Some of the stuff in my dreams was stuff I still have some real life concern about. I guess my brain was flagging those things. But on the whole I realise how far I've come. It's a really nice, hopeful feeling.

My parents have started to accept that I will probably (?) reconcile with my husband at the end of the year and that makes me feel better. But time will tell if it's the right call. Knowing they will support me, if they have to, gives me the feeling that it will be entirely my choice when I have to decide what our future holds. For a while I felt torn because I was scared they'd be angry if I went back. But I needed to know the choice was all mine and not influenced by them in a negative way. Like if I don't go back I want it to be because I'm strong and that feels right for me. Not because I was scared of my parents' strong opinions. And if I do go back I know they'll back me because I made a good call.

There are still some hiccups with his communication levels - he has to prove that even when work is busy and long, he can still communicate clearly and respect my time (and the kids wanting to know when he'll be home and see them). That will be the biggest dealbreaker to be honest. We will see. The other thing will be seeing if he handles hard emotions healthily if something happens where he has to grieve or he's angry about something. I think he's come a long way but I haven't lived those situations with him again yet so I will need to see what he does if tested in that way. I don't want dark clouds or emotion dumping. I want him to acknowledge the feelings, use self care time wisely and take time out in a healthy way (not an abandon the family and use distractions way).

Even writing this is helping me to see my points of concern.

Anyway, decisions are deliberately not being made yet because we want to go past our moments of "Oh I love you - let's get back together because we miss each other" and we want to create lasting change. Break old cycles. Really see if it's codependency or if it's actually meant to be.

Anyway, that's enough for now and my right eye is watering because I rubbed it wrong haha.

All in all, I'm proud of the work I've done and the work I'm doing. I'm glad my brain is working for me and not against me.

Out with the old and in with the new.

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necessaryvent · 3 years ago

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I miss my house.

I'm sitting in it right now (long story about having to be here for something while my kind of ex is at work).

It lacks soul when I'm not here. I wonder how much the kids feel it. It feels empty (there's not a lack of furnishings or anything - it just doesn't feel like there's life in it often). All those little touches I worked so hard on adding to make it feel home-y. The things I pride myself on - having a good eye and looking at cute homewares at the shops.

It smells different.

It's still a beautiful home. Maybe when I left a part of me hoped I might hate it and that would make me able to say goodbye to it and move on. But it still makes me happy. See, my marriage was fucked at the end, but the house itself made me feel comfort and joy and I basically had full rein anyway because he was never here. It probably was the one thing that made me happy. That's probably why I grieved it so much (besides having to grieve the dream of it being our forever home - our intentions when we bought it). I didn't even get to enjoy a full 4 seasons in it before I had to move out.

We have been working on ourselves and we do hope to reconcile. We needed a big circuit breaker. I don't think we've come far enough yet but I do hope we're on our way.

I do want to live here again. And I do still love the house and what it's supposed to represent (the original dream). I do think we'll move in again one day - hopefully not too far away.

I just hope my kind of ex can handle me taking over again. I plan on using my extra income (now that I have to work) to upgrade so many things and to give the house a new lease on life. A symbolic fresh start.

I had a bad dream last night that his parents were trying to offload yet another piece of crap from their house (a TV) and I absolutely did not want it in my home but I knew he wanted it. I didn't want to deal with the stress. I think I'm going to have to talk to him about getting rid of the TV he did get from them when I was moving out. It's outdated and it's not in the spirit of moving forward. Having their old crap in the house is not OK with me and I just don't think I could accept it. I know it doesn't sound like a big deal but it is to me. I don't think I can get past it. If you knew all the history you would understand.

I know I'm getting ahead of myself and I don't have a say yet but we're living in limbo a bit and so we do have to be a bit respectful of each others' boundaries until a permanent decision is made about our future.

There are only a few months left and I know they'll fly by so fast.

I live with my parents and I will never take for granted the freedom of owning my own home again. I might change my mind again one day but I feel like I just want to do my own laundry and hang it out on my own line. I want to clean the house whenever and however I want. I want to relax and use my space however I want whenever I want. I want to cook whatever and whenever I want. I want to feel like a grown up in charge of her own home and life. I want to go into shops and eye off homewares and be excited about them (having to walk past that stuff because it's currently of no use to me is really hard). I want to nest. I want to make special memories of my own with the kids that don't always somehow involve my parents. I want to feel house proud. I want to invite friends over. I want to finish a summer with joy here like I never got to do last summer (the first summer in the house.

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necessaryvent · 3 years ago

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Insomnia

I can't switch my brain off after attending my childhood friend's memorial service yesterday afternoon. I have been awake so long and I don't know how I'll get back to sleep. I already almost did (after watching some TV to distract myself) but as soon as I tried, something switched my brain back on.

It doesn't help that my daughter has not been sleeping well (except for tonight - of course *eye roll*) and already wrecked my body clock this week.

It's a bit frustrating. I know I can't run on empty constantly. I just hope next week is less stressful and demanding. As much as I can't stop thinking about my friend, hopefully after this hellish night of no sleep, the memorial service will have served as some kind of closure on the grief and the flooding in of memories. She will always be in my heart and I'll always think of her, but hopefully the feelings won't be so intense.

Seeing people from my past bought up some feelings too, I'm sure.

Today should be a good day. I just don't want my tiredness to ruin it.

I hope I get some last minute sleep time before the sun comes up. Anything is better than nothing.

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necessaryvent · 3 years ago

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So yesterday happened.

I don't know if I can be bothered telling the whole thing but yesterday was a full on day, emotionally.

I'd been triggered the day before pretty badly and it had flowed on.

I basically vented everything I have ever wanted to say to my (kind of) ex over the years. I also told him everything I thought about some of his behaviours (past and kind of recent). I didn't censor anything. I didn't hold back. I was brutally honest. I said all the things that I have ever wanted to say. Even stuff that supposedly "triggered" him over the years (ie made him feel defensive and then he would start acting like a gaslighting fuckhead).

I wasn't scared. I knew it needed to be said so I could heal and move on.

I used phrases about toxic masculinity, I called him out on behaviours (of his) that I would find unattractive in a man if I was looking to date, I told him about how heinous his past behaviour had been. I told him how offended I was that he was always mad about my trauma (that he gave me). I told him what my dealbreakers were. I called him out on EVERYTHING. It was nothing I hadn't said before over time. It was just that this time I knew that I didn't have to worry about the consequences. He could be a dick but I could walk away because we don't live together. He could stop talking to me, but I was so done with even the potential of more bullshit that I wouldn't have cared. I was going for broke.

I am not saying this was healthy. I was emotional and in tears all day. I don't generally recommend venting at someone like that. In my mind it was a huge one off - like the bottling up was never going to happen again and this was my chance to just get it off my chest and honestly send that energy I had been holding for 20 years back to him.

I had nothing to lose. I was so done with the trauma and so done with the triggers (mine) and so done with the trust issues and the worries. Done. Done. Done.

I knew very well that there was a good chance he would turn around and say "we are never reconciling" and that he thought I was the bad guy. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little worried. But I needed him to know all of the things he'd put me through. I needed him to hear it all. If he was done with me then so be it. I'd get over it.

I wondered if I had blown everything up and if I'd regret it. I wondered if I had behaved extremely poorly to be honest. I wondered if this was just an unhealthy inability to regulate my emotions (which I've worked hard at doing for so long).

But then I realised that weirdly, this was progress for me. I'm not saying it was the best thing to do. Of course not. But I realised that I felt safe to blast him. He couldn't touch me (not literally - I mean figuratively in the sense of dragging me down or me feeling trapped emotionally like when we were together). I had already done the hard thing by separating from him and facing a life of living with my parents and having less money and having to go back to work and having my kids most of the time (although I had them most of the time before anyways). All of my fears had been faced and now here I was staring him down.

I felt like I could say anything I needed to say and not be afraid of what he might say back. Because if we were done due to him not reacting well I didn't want him back anyway.

Weirdly to his credit, he reacted well. He spent the afternoon thinking and I thought, oh here it comes: the dumping. But it didn't. He was vulnerable with me (a big deal for him during emotional times) and he wanted things to be better and he held no resentment. At least that's what he told me after.

That was very unlike my past experiences.

I had been aware of his growth and his efforts at growth (there had been some failings over the weekend which was why I was triggered and while I acknowledge that he realised what he had done and seemed ready to repair that I still needed to say what I had to say) but it made me realise that his growth had perhaps made me feel empowered to let it all out. Because maybe there was a tiny part of me underneath the anger and hurt who knew there was more of a chance that he was ready to listen to things he had never listened to before in all of our years together.

I could have delivered my feelings to him neater (for my sake and for my dignity) but I don't regret expressing myself the way I deserved to. I didn't sugar coat. I didn't censor. I didn't wince at the fact that I could be bringing hellfire onto myself by using certain phrases or repeating certain opinions.

I don't plan on repeating that day, but I think I won't need to. I felt like I did a big emotional clean out. It had been a long time coming. Only time will tell if it has made way for a healthier relationship or whether it was unwittingly yet another part of a bad cycle. But I'm hopeful. I don't think I've ever felt so satisfied that I was heard (his reaction wasn't what mattered - although I appreciate it wasn't a negative one). I just needed to take no prisoners. Even if he had blocked me I still would have raged out and said everything to the void. I was getting it out of my system. I would get him out of my system too if I had to.

I cleared a way for my voice to be used. No hesitation. All the things he had made me feel like I wasn't allowed to say - those rules didn't apply anymore. Fuck those unwritten rules he'd made. I am my own person who feels my own way and I had every right to express my valid feelings and concerns all these years - he was not allowed to try to censor me anymore.

I could be everything he didn't like but I was being me. I am allowed to be a feminist. I am allowed to be offended by objectively bad behaviour. I am allowed to say what I like and don't like. I am allowed to not share the same opinions. I am allowed to create the life I want.

So yeah, to my surprise, we made up. Because he received my 'feedback' in a healthy way. And that made me feel safe. I don't know what the future holds. Throughout the day I wondered if the past was too much to overcome. But at least our friendship is OK for now.

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