This Place Is Inconvenient For My Name

Well as I sit here and type I am blushing, something I wouldn't have imagined doing a few weeks ago given my recent breakup but here I am. The 'nasty breakup' has been buffered by the distraction of a new love interest. I can hear you all now saying "rebound" that maybe so but this guy has not only been a friend I can confide in, he has been a surprising support system for which I'm grateful. It's funny because I don't even think he realises he has been but by just being him and keeping the laughter going it's kept me sane.

The problem with this senario is we've fallen into the category of 'friends with benefits' because he is still in a on/off relationship and they have a child together. It's the ususal he doesn't love her crap but he's only with her for the child's sake excuse. I don't know why have a habit of getting involved with complicated men it just happens that way and if us women are completely honest about it we all love a bad boy. In my defence the first time I was a drunken emotional wreck and the times after that... well not so much.

It's weird because the guy in question is someone I never would have imagined being involved with, being my brother's bestfriend an all and part of the family for the best part of 15 years I just never looked at him that way. Throw in a couple of bottles of wine and several shots of tequlia later I was definately whistling a different tune. Why is it when your intoxicated you think you know best and the morning after on reflection you berate youself on so many levels and cringe at your idiotic behaviour? I awoke with a stonking hangover but strangely enough without the arkwardness that should invariably follow a one night stand, none.

Since that drunken indiscretion might you say we have been meeting up regulary because we both were taken by surprise at how well we clicked physically and when you do it's like you can't get enough of it. Our friendship thing we've had down pat for years so to speak so taking things further between us was an extension of that and as much as I would like to say I am ashamed of my lack of morals given his situation, I'm not. To be fair I was a firm believer in 'do unto others as you'd do to yourself' but it somehow just doesn't quite ring true here, does it? I can only blame my recent jaded frame of mind and irresponsible behaviour on my broken heart.

I'm not depressed I don't think but it's not what I think that matters anymore these days according to the doctors anyway. I am apparently clinically depressed, induced by the tramua of a messy breakup. It figures there would be a man in the equasion somewhere, there always is. If I'm honest I've been like this for a while, before the relationship ended in fact and through my own selfish, self absorbed way I failed to communicate with my other half about it. If I had of done? Who knows I wouldn't be single now and feeling completely on my own against the world. It's funny how people measure their selfworth against being in a relationship or not.

As much I would like to say it was all my fault it wasn't. I felt I gave 100% if not more into our relationship and I was geting stonewalled everytime. I suppose the signs where there early on and I chose to ignore them but when you want something to work so badly, you end up rationalising your partners faults as it's the norm. Somewhere along the line I lost my confidence and self worth because he had me convinced that my feelings of him cheating where completely unfounded, I was going mad and it was all in my head. Now I am not by nature a jealous or possessive woman but women's intuition aside I should I followed my gut instinct because up until now, it's never failed me not once.

I mean every relationship has it's ups and down's whose doesn't? but we were in a good place at this point and I still can't understand why he'd look elsewhere. He claims to this day nothing happended with this other woman until I had finished it with him. He's clever that way, he was too scared to end the relationship himself and didn't want to feel gulity in doing so by pushing me to my limits by not turning up when plans had been made, ignoring his phone for days on end, he left me with no other option, he had won.

We did the obligatory swapping of things the other day on our anniversay of all days, it was all very pleasant, polite conversation was had by all. When he decides to tell me he wants us to stay in touch and for us not to become strangers. Blindsided was an understatement to say the least especially after the way the breakup happended. I don't want to relive a recent painful memory so please forgive me for not spilling my guts out just yet because the truth is, I still love him and I probably will love him for a very long time. But I can't just be his friend, because as much as i enjoy the concept of being "just friends" in reality it's a bizarre form of torture and i'm just not willing to participate in it. so right now what i wanna do is just move on and get over him and the only way for me to do that is to not be around him anymore.

Thing is I've never really put much faith in all that "if you love someone, set them free" crap, as evidenced by everything I've done in my life up to this very moment, but I am determined to be happy but I'm scared that I'm going to end up alone I'm scared that I'm always going to be somebody's friend, or sister, or confident, never quite somebody's everything. Mostly I'm scared I'm never going to find a guy that I love as much as I loved him.

Hey guys, it’s been a while since I last wrote anything down for you to read but I’ve been a busy lady of late, I think it’s what you kids would call a social life. Well I went and bagged myself I man we’ve been together now for 10 months now (not that I’m counting like lol), returned to work full time after taking some time out for personal reasons and watching my baby boy grow into a little man with attitude is highly amusing and amazing at the same time so all in all as Justin Lee Collins would say, “Good Times”

P.s I promise I won’t post any blog’s declaring my undying love for my other half cause that for two reasons being that: I don’t do cheese and it’s just way too tacky but I can reassure you it will probably have lots of blog’s complaining about said partner, where else is a girl to vent my her anger without it coming back to bite her on the arse? Lol

I attended my step dad's funeral the other day, the cancer finally took him. I was sitting outside the chapel of rest waiting for the previous party to leave and I was taken aback by how serene a graveyard could be, I felt almost at peace if that makes sense. Sitting there, my cheeks frozen and nose red by the chill in the air, it was a clear and crisp day, with the birds crowing in the background, a perfect funeral movie scene if ever there was one, it made me chuckle slightly. How I found amusement in such a sad day is beyond me but if I didn't find the laughter from somewhere the tears would invariably flow and I wasn't quite ready just yet, to say goodbye.

I was watching these people milling about and it struck me how there was an unspoken bond between all of them, united by their grief of a relative or close friend. Knowing glances and empty hugs were exchanged but reassuring all the same, being a vetran of such an occasion it just reminded me that through the sadness and sorrow that engulfed us, it would eventually ebb away and the days wouldn''t seem so dark. I remember feeling that it wouldn't be hard I just had to be there for my mother, how wrong was I? Whether age has factored into my logic of thinking these days I can't be sure but I was sobbing with the best of them but I must interject here and explain that my step dad's father came out of retirement to perform his own son's funeral and at the ripe ole age of 84 neverless.

He talked about bravery, how there where many forms the obvious being soliders going off to fight for queen and country, fireman, polieman etc but then the unspoke bravery of a man with the knowledge of his impending death and battling against the will to give up before his time. My stepdad underwent varoius guinea pig like experiments for cancer research which in the end didn't help him but whe asked if he thought it was worth it, he answered for him personally no, but if someday it contributed towrds helping another human life, then yes.

Right on the cue the tears began to flow, it was only then did it register that my stepdad was gone, I wouldn't get to see his cheeky smile when visting with my son, or engaging him in some random conversation about which ever reality show had my attention at the time (for which he would berate me on so many levels) this was his way of humouring me.

Yet the thing that made me ache inside was the knowledge I had let him get close to me, I saw him as my father and as quickly he came into my life he was taken away. After losing my real father I made it my business not to get pally with mum's partner's for fear of losing them but as times gone by the untrusting barriers I had so carefully bulit around my heart melted when mum had met my stepdad. He was so honest and open from the start and I could't help taking a shine to him, he was a fantastic man and brilliant with my mum. I hope wherever he is, he's happy and that one day I'll meet him again.

Domestice abuse is a delicate subject to talk about I know but I feel I need to before I explode in frustration. The reason being is someone close to me who for obvious reasons I can't name is physically and mentally abusing to his partner, the mother of his child. I have tried many a time help her get away from him but just when you think she's genno take that step she backs off and stays with him.

I've tried to rationalise this in my head and try to understand from her point of view why she hasn't left him sooner because if I ever, ever found myself in that position where my partner became abusive I would walk out of the door like a shot, believe you me. I really feel strongly about this as being subjected to many a abusive senario with my own mother and father over the years kind of makes you more strong in your resolve to do things differently in the future.

The person in question I have to tell you is a very clever, calculating and a manipulative piece of work, bascically he's bad'un and didn't fall far from the apple tree, let me assure you. The fact is he has the tendency to twist things around and make himself look like the victim and has a perchance for attention seeking to the point of self harm. This only ever happens when he's had a few beers which is followed by the obligatory morning after 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean it' speech.

Now I asked my mum why it took her so long to leave my dad being in the same situation, she said she stayed for my brother and I as she wanted us to have a father figure in our lives, even if that meant aquring the odd black eye or bruise in the process. It's beyond me, it really is but then life isn't black and white is it? It has the subtle line of grey gushing through the middle which make's everything that little more complicated.

I feel at a complete and utter loss at what to do because I know if I notify the appropriate authorities to act upon this then said victim will deny all knowledge thus leaving them with no alternative to drop the allegations. If I take it upon myself to confront the bully himself all I would be acheiving there is more abusive for the victim at a later date.

I had this over whelming urge to watch 'Santa Claus The Movie' last night, (for reasons I can't fathom) which led me to thinking about our family Christmas's.

How we had the best-decorated house in the street and the Christmas tree was your piste de resistance. How I long to be 8 years old again on Christmas Eve getting ready for bed, excited Santa was coming (it wasn't until I was 10 years old did I realise the guy in the 'fat suit' was you) leaving the traditional mince pie and a glass of milk. Only when Santa started asking for a can of 'beer' instead of milk, I knew then it was you but I pretended I still believed because it was nice if only for a little while to escape into a land of make believe.

Don't get me wrong there were a lot of bad memories I remember about you but after a while, not so much and that can only be a good thing right? When is it we forget about the bad stuff and romanticise the good memories we have of our passed relatives?

I mean my friends are so lucky to still have their dad's around, they still get to fight and argue with them which I never got to do with you and not to sound detrimental but I don't think they will realise that until they are gone.

For all your shit Dad I miss your terribly and I never realised how much until recently because for a really long time I felt nothing about your passing. I was too busy being angry with you for leaving my brother and I without a father but as time has gone by and I've had a child of my own it's opened up a Pandora's box let me tell you. I get so emotional about anything and everything, which is ironic considering I was brought up in a family who believed emotions were a sign of weakness.

Well all I seem to do lately is dwell on the past; you and what life would be like if you were here still. I so wish you could've met my son, he's a right character and for what it's worth I think, no I know you would have made a great Granddad. Thinking of you always x

Slimfast or not to Slimfast that is the question. Well I have decided to take the bull by the horns and force myself to drink this so called miracle drink. It's clever really masquerading it's self as a milkshake when in fact it is fowl tasting gloop! If I had more time on my hands I would quite gladly go the gym but between working fulltime and motherhood demanding as it is, doesn't leave a lot of time for me. Maybe it's selfish but the weekend is the only real time I get to spend with my son and I don't fancy spending my spare time in the gym.

I really do miss the adrenalin rush after a good workout because even though I've been eating healthy for the last couple of hours (insert laughter here) I still feel I need to exercise. Before I was blessed with my offspring I had lost just 6 stone (I'm always in a constant battle with my weight - then again who isn't?) and was feeling good about myself. I'll be honest it wasn't easy it took sheer willpower, protein shakes and lots of exercise to lose it all.

As I sit here and type my stomach is growling and I feel like someone has cut my throat. I am not ashamed to admit that I love food but in the same breath I hate it because I can't even look at a plate of chips without it automatically adding 4 pounds to my already excess baggage.I know I have to keep things in perspective cause at the end of the day I will benefit for my health and vanity (you don't have to be stick thin to be vain, us larger than life ladies can be just as conceited about our looks as the next gal) but it's just the bloody process of getting there.

I know the first few weeks are the killer when you start a diet but once I've bypassed the cravings and the mental thinking "oh just have one it won't hurt..." then I know I've got it sorted. Easier said than done, never a truer phrase spoken as "no pain no gain"