This blog continues the story of 'Change and Saying No' from my previous blog post!
I'm finding it really difficult to get things in the 'right' order, as everything weaves here and there and overlaps each other. For instance, in me telling you this chapter of my life I am also sharing a little about others which will be talked about in more detail in future blog posts.
Here's a brief timeline, to give you an example of what I mean:
After 'Change 1' occurred - Glenn and I re-partnered. Then, my Uncle moved in. Then, I had a big argument with Mum. Then, Glenn and I separated. Then, I started a new relationship. Then, I lost another friendship/s. Then, Mum and I started talking again. Then, I went from two kids to eight. Then, my partner and I made some tough decisions. Then, my family welcomed a new addition that saw us facing as much heartache as joy. Then, Glenn moved in with us and moved out again. Then, we went from eight kids to two point three - we are still in the process of making it a full 'three'. Then, life got harder with some heartbreaking news. Then, I lost my shit completely. Then, my Uncle moved out. Omgoodness this really IS like opening Pandora's box as I thought it might be; but is it what it is...my raw and unscripted life!
Change 2 - Long Term House Guest...
*I will be using the name UNCLE and not his actual name as even though I am telling this story, I still wish to respect his privacy*
On Christmas Day 2013, my Uncle who had been overseas for the past 7 years came to visit. Two and a half years later I got the courage to express that which I had been feeling on and off for most of that time, and in May of this year, he moved out.
I can remember the moment he arrived. My boys were playing in the back yard and Glenn and I were just lazing in the sun watching them. Next thing we know, we hear a voice exclaim 'Who the FUCK are you?' or something to that effect. Needless to say, he scared the absolute shit out of the boys and Jazz let out an ear piercing scream yelling 'a Man is going to get me'! I have never seen him so terrified! Anyway, we realised who it was, told the boys that it was OK and the reunion began. It was very obvious that he had been drinking but it was Christmas Day after all.
The plan was made for him to stay for a couple of days, to catch up on all the news of the past 7 years and spend some much wanted time together. He and Glenn were getting along like a house on fire and at one stage my Uncle actually gave me a little peep talk about 'taking care of my man'. Funny that after only seeing a glimpse into things, he made the assumption that it was just me 'being a bitch and holding out'; light was certainly shed upon that in the months that followed; but I digress.
Days turned into a week and it was Glenn's suggestion that he stay with us instead of where he was staying, as it didn't sound like the best environment to be in, in order to get 'things' into place to be able to move back overseas. Of course I agreed! He always was my favourite Uncle after all. I absolutely adored this man and had him on a pedestal. He was different from the other adults, he was carefree and fun loving and went on amazing adventures and told elaborate stories - he certainly wasn't the typical suburban 'Uncle'. I idolised him and his life style; but as I grew older and had a family of my own, my rose coloured glasses were removed.
In the months that followed, he fell from my pedestal I had placed him upon and I faced a harsh reality. I'm not going to go into 'all the nitty gritty details' but I will say that living with an alcoholic (who I believe is also suffering from PTSD) is really fucking hard work. I felt like I was walking on egg shells in my own home, due to his isolation when he was dry; but I would also dread 'pay week' as I knew that it meant a big splurge was going to happen. My boys were feeling the same, especially Ace who despite adoring him just could not handle the way he was when under the influence and my friends and family stopped coming over because of him being here.
I also think that having that extra person in the house contributed partly to mine and Glenn's relationship breaking down, as Glenn would often bitch to me about the things he didn't like rather than confronting him directly about it. Considering it was Glenn who initiated the idea of him living with us, that was incredibly frustrating and put me in a really awkward position. It was all fun and games in the beginning but once Glenn started working again and party time had ended, reality set in. Thinking back on it now though, I didn't have Glenn's back, the way I did with my new partner and I should have.
In sharing this, it sounds as though it was all doom and gloom but during that period there were also a lot of positives that came of him staying with us, unfortunately though as time went on they lost their lustre.
I have heard from him only once since he left despite me calling, texting and emailing and I can only hope that he is too busy enjoying life to reply and not isolating himself in a room somewhere, with music blaring and you tube documentaries playing, drinking his troubles away when his fortnightly pay arrives.
I hope that if he ever reads this blog that he realises how hard it was for me to do what I did, and that he knows I love him and am so thankful for the positive things he did bring to mine and the boys life, despite the vehement way in which I asked him to leave.
I especially miss having him to do the gardening and to cook me delicious gourmet meals; I don't miss the mess though - how the fuck someone can get shit on every fricking surface of the kitchen and use what seems like every bloody dish I own, still has me buggered!
Above those things though I miss our conversations, even if at times he would ramble and tell me the same stories over and over again. The good thing about it though, is that now I can retell them - although they certainly wouldn't be told with the same dramatic flair that only he has.
My fondest memory of his time with us is dancing in my back yard around the fire to Deeply Dippy. In that moment, he was the same Uncle that I had on that pedestal and I was the child who adored him.
When he left, we turned his room into my Study area and quite often when I am sitting in there alone when every one else is sleeping, my thoughts go out him. I miss him, but also know that him not living here with us anymore has opened the door to new opportunities for our family. Hopefully it has also given him the motivation to get things in order and head back overseas to the love of his life and the child that was born whilst he was here. I hope he makes a real life for himself where he is sober and happy; though I hope that he never turns into a 'normal, suburban Uncle'.
I'm finding it really difficult to get things in the 'right' order, as everything weaves here and there and overlaps each other. For instance, in me telling you this chapter of my life I am also sharing a little about others which will be talked about in more detail in future blog posts.
Here's a brief timeline, to give you an example of what I mean:
After 'Change 1' occurred - Glenn and I re-partnered. Then, my Uncle moved in. Then, I had a big argument with Mum. Then, Glenn and I separated. Then, I started a new relationship. Then, I lost another friendship/s. Then, Mum and I started talking again. Then, I went from two kids to eight. Then, my partner and I made some tough decisions. Then, my family welcomed a new addition that saw us facing as much heartache as joy. Then, Glenn moved in with us and moved out again. Then, we went from eight kids to two point three - we are still in the process of making it a full 'three'. Then, life got harder with some heartbreaking news. Then, I lost my shit completely. Then, my Uncle moved out. Omgoodness this really IS like opening Pandora's box as I thought it might be; but is it what it is...my raw and unscripted life!
Change 2 - Long Term House Guest...
*I will be using the name UNCLE and not his actual name as even though I am telling this story, I still wish to respect his privacy*
On Christmas Day 2013, my Uncle who had been overseas for the past 7 years came to visit. Two and a half years later I got the courage to express that which I had been feeling on and off for most of that time, and in May of this year, he moved out.
I can remember the moment he arrived. My boys were playing in the back yard and Glenn and I were just lazing in the sun watching them. Next thing we know, we hear a voice exclaim 'Who the FUCK are you?' or something to that effect. Needless to say, he scared the absolute shit out of the boys and Jazz let out an ear piercing scream yelling 'a Man is going to get me'! I have never seen him so terrified! Anyway, we realised who it was, told the boys that it was OK and the reunion began. It was very obvious that he had been drinking but it was Christmas Day after all.
The plan was made for him to stay for a couple of days, to catch up on all the news of the past 7 years and spend some much wanted time together. He and Glenn were getting along like a house on fire and at one stage my Uncle actually gave me a little peep talk about 'taking care of my man'. Funny that after only seeing a glimpse into things, he made the assumption that it was just me 'being a bitch and holding out'; light was certainly shed upon that in the months that followed; but I digress.
Days turned into a week and it was Glenn's suggestion that he stay with us instead of where he was staying, as it didn't sound like the best environment to be in, in order to get 'things' into place to be able to move back overseas. Of course I agreed! He always was my favourite Uncle after all. I absolutely adored this man and had him on a pedestal. He was different from the other adults, he was carefree and fun loving and went on amazing adventures and told elaborate stories - he certainly wasn't the typical suburban 'Uncle'. I idolised him and his life style; but as I grew older and had a family of my own, my rose coloured glasses were removed.
In the months that followed, he fell from my pedestal I had placed him upon and I faced a harsh reality. I'm not going to go into 'all the nitty gritty details' but I will say that living with an alcoholic (who I believe is also suffering from PTSD) is really fucking hard work. I felt like I was walking on egg shells in my own home, due to his isolation when he was dry; but I would also dread 'pay week' as I knew that it meant a big splurge was going to happen. My boys were feeling the same, especially Ace who despite adoring him just could not handle the way he was when under the influence and my friends and family stopped coming over because of him being here.
I also think that having that extra person in the house contributed partly to mine and Glenn's relationship breaking down, as Glenn would often bitch to me about the things he didn't like rather than confronting him directly about it. Considering it was Glenn who initiated the idea of him living with us, that was incredibly frustrating and put me in a really awkward position. It was all fun and games in the beginning but once Glenn started working again and party time had ended, reality set in. Thinking back on it now though, I didn't have Glenn's back, the way I did with my new partner and I should have.
In sharing this, it sounds as though it was all doom and gloom but during that period there were also a lot of positives that came of him staying with us, unfortunately though as time went on they lost their lustre.
I have heard from him only once since he left despite me calling, texting and emailing and I can only hope that he is too busy enjoying life to reply and not isolating himself in a room somewhere, with music blaring and you tube documentaries playing, drinking his troubles away when his fortnightly pay arrives.
I hope that if he ever reads this blog that he realises how hard it was for me to do what I did, and that he knows I love him and am so thankful for the positive things he did bring to mine and the boys life, despite the vehement way in which I asked him to leave.
I especially miss having him to do the gardening and to cook me delicious gourmet meals; I don't miss the mess though - how the fuck someone can get shit on every fricking surface of the kitchen and use what seems like every bloody dish I own, still has me buggered!
Above those things though I miss our conversations, even if at times he would ramble and tell me the same stories over and over again. The good thing about it though, is that now I can retell them - although they certainly wouldn't be told with the same dramatic flair that only he has.
My fondest memory of his time with us is dancing in my back yard around the fire to Deeply Dippy. In that moment, he was the same Uncle that I had on that pedestal and I was the child who adored him.
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I welcome all messages and comments that are positive and encouraging. If however you do have some criticism please make sure that it is constructive rather than destructive. Much Love, Light and Peace XOXO Tash!