No one understands it, not even myself.

I've been rallying through this instant family role for a year now, properly since the beginning of this year (2015) all on my own steam, no one gets it, it's not encouraged, nor endorsed by anyone who knows, loves or meets me. People don't get this, not even I do. 

I read a short Babble article this morning that just summed up all my emotions and put everything into perspective that's pretty much, what I call life at this moment. 

I have no village. 

During a very real chat with Daddio recently, I lay all my cards on the table about boundaries. I've found that resentment and fear are buddies, and that where there is resentment, there's most likely an underlying fear that someone or something is going to have to be sacrificed. A least in my mind. 

Having identified this conflicting duo of emotions, I've managed to stop, take a meaningful breath and then ask myself, "What are you afraid of in this moment of resentment?" 

Nine out of ten times, it is the fear of loss I'll endure, loss of something physical or precious that I've worked for. The other side is the fear of lack of appreciation I'll receive from anyone, lack of gratitude, being taken for granted, being resented back. Something may get damaged that I've worked hard for (when they sit swinging their legs on my new camping chairs on the lawn or perhaps I'm concerned that I'm at the bottom of the priority list as the last bits of my favourite mayonnaise are put up for auction to the highest bidder without my consideration and yes, it's just bloody mayonnaise, why do I act like it's important).  I'm constantly wrestling with resentment and releasing it by speaking about my fears and concerns as they arise, which set me free from the burden of carrying them silently, sometimes for days. 

Try discipline a child without raising your hands, your voice or  asking yourself why you signed up for this. I've tried, been and done everything in my power, perhaps this is my emotional rock bottom, my cry for help. 

I need a village, and my tribe is very, very small. I don't know anyone who is in the same position as I am. I'm gapping this and I may just be losing my mind.  

Why am I putting myself through this? 

So here I am, letting it all out. The toothpaste in our bathroom has been forced down into the basin drain by 6 year old fingers his solo game continues in silence. 

Thousands of little germs greet his dirty fingers, the same ones he was meant to wash prior, along with the booger in his nose that needed to be removed. Yes, he's 6, I get it, but it's my basin too. 

I stand watching from a distance as he takes his toothbrush and sweeps up the remains of our dirty basin (please don't act like yours is spotless 24/7) bringing the debris to his little mouth. It is in this moment I realise that my en-suite bathroom has been overthrown, my sanctuary and only place to hide has been taken over because two little boys have to be separated otherwise there are distractions and fighting and nothing really gets done. This is bullshit.

When I realise that he is in possession and alternating 2 toothpaste tubes (and neither are the junior brands I brought him last week), I in turn, realise is our tube of adult toothpaste. 

He has now managed to mix up the only 2 tubes of toothpaste in our bathroom, one of which was for his exclusive use during a severe mouth infection he had two weeks ago. Now I know where my ulcer and sinus infection have come from *rolls eyes*.

My blood pressure starts to rise, I've been sick and perhaps this is the reason why. Perhaps, if these were my own biological children, my willingness to share bodily fluids with them, including germs and diseases, I wouldn't be so pissed. Why am I putting myself through this, why! I share my resentments, Daddio quickly takes the tubes back to their original bathroom. I'm sans toothpaste I can trust. Now would be a good time to tell me I'm being oversensitive. 

Toughen up or leave

I will admit, that leaving this place I call home with two small manipulators with very obvious psychological issues, has become a very real option. It's not because I don't love their father, God knows how much I love their father, it's because I'm wondering if I've got what it takes to do this. 

But maybe, this isn't about loving myself more, maybe it's learning to dance in the rain as they say, about setting boundaries in place and being happy - for the most part - without losing my own sense of identity. 

So I made myself a priority. (Ha.)

It ends by starting anew

And this week I look forward to so many exciting new adventures, on my own, because that's what all women need, with or without a village, with or without offspring. They need time out, pampering, friends and that moment when you get to a set of traffic lights, get checked out by a cute guy next to you and feel that ziiiiiiiing of, "Yeah, I still got it!". 

So I've set out a date for myself, all my needs cannot be fulfilled by everyone in my life, so I'm making my own list and prioritizing myself once again. I'm seeing old friends for lunch and coffee dates that I've failed to prioritize over the last year, I've got a gym date with my bestie (me) I'm starting to drink green tea, with the intention of getting my sexy, un-mommied body back in shape - because that's what I signed up for. For independence, for self preservation, for date nights and movies and memories. Sorry Daddio, it's not personal, well it is, but not like that :)

Not because I'm selfish, but because I'm worth it. Not because you don't make me happy but because you can't give me everything I need, all of the time, and that wouldn't be sensible to expect anyone on this planet to make me (or you) whole. As my dad always says, "Life is a Do It Yourself Job". 

No one gives 100% of their effort, 100% of their time to 100% of anything - it's not possible. Balance will set me free, balance is the answer, balance is the difference between expecting to be priority and then commanding it when the time is right. 

Balance cannot allow resentment to come into play when balance allows for new adventures, stimulus and experiences. Time out, time away - without romance, without partners, without even being angry about it. Simply, just - for - you! So you can grow, so you can live, so you can create your own memories, experiences and identity. 

Balance is in my own hands. Maybe then, people will stop asking me what I'm still doing with a man and his two children and all their baggage. An ex and her shopping list of tendencies to give less f#$%s than anyone I know about her responsibilities. 

And perhaps when I'm smiling again because I've sorted myself out - everyone will realise, including myself, that love is enough and boundaries are everything.

Give yourself permission

There's an old adage about serenity.  The first time I heard it was at an AA meeting for the friends and family of alcoholics when I went with my mother as a young child, to a support group for the multiple addicts in our family. 

Years after that I found myself repeating this mantra over and over again at the various meetings I found myself at when my partners (quite a list of them) were all addicts themselves. I had chosen, albeit unconsciously, to surround myself with this behaviour way into my 20's. 

Until a couple of years ago, I chose addicts. I chose those with depression, anxiety, childhood issues. I chose people, broken and worn down by their own demons, ones that disguised themselves as real problems. Ones that simply needs to be acknowledged and set free by recognizing and accepting their own fears. Fears that turned their issues into monsters, into controlling parts of a soul and spirit that was always meant to be living a life of love, joy, peace and prosperity. 

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. Courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." 

No doubt you've heard this before, today I'm reading it as if it's the first time I've ever laid eyes on it. And today it makes more sense that it ever has. I've found the wisdom to know the difference between what I can and cannot change.  

The Victim Triangle  

The victim triangle, otherwise known as the Karpman drama triangle, is basically a social or psychological pattern of human behaviour we choose in our daily lives. One takes on the roll of the Victim, The Persecutor or the Rescuer, each with their own unhealthy and unstable consequences of self induced, toxic repetition.

The triangle is used in psychology to assist those in choosing the right behavioural approaches to their problems. In fact, I am quite au fait with this tool because one uses it in psychology sessions when discussing co-dependent relationships and the roles we take on within them. 

After my previous post, and in case you missed it you can read all about my burn out here, I decided to detach from the drama by choosing to step out of the roles that I found myself  put myself in and willingly chose to take on.  

Photo Credit : Google Images - David Emerald 2014 - www.PowerofTed.com

Drama-lama no more!

You often hear about how people get pushed to breaking point, or as you'll read in the previous post my doctor called it "rock bottom, adrenal fatigue". It's basically when you take on so much, that your body literally cannot keep up with the stress you're under. 

Here's what I was dealing with before I took my life back: 

• Their mother not paying maintenance after numerous months of promises while the kids live with us full time. Not - one - shiny - little - contribution.
• Financial loans I had undertaken to 'carry' his kids and us, while the money came in from his side, in a couple of months. A couple more months - still nothing. This includes lunches the kids don't eat because now they are fussy eaters since I gave them choices and treats. Payment of annual school photographs and every other conceivable item that this household needed for a full year, waiting on the hope and prayers of....
• A partner with the best intentions (and heart) in the world to pay me back, or hell even just contribute more than his half of the rent and pull his weight while he found a higher paying job (while I found myself paying for everything including his fuel in his car every week for a month. 
• Two small children under the age of 10, confused as hell, acting up and being generally bratty. One failing 2 of the school terms this year alone, getting into trouble with authority at school and the smallest literally just breaking everything he gets his hands on. 
• Resentment - a lot of it - eating me up like a cancer from the inside out. 

I'm sure you're reading the above thinking, "Hell's bells, is this woman mad, who gives up so much for so long and doesn't realise she's got herself a raw deal?", well my body gave in and my mind caught up later. And here I am. 

I am not a victim. I am not a rescuer and I will no persecute or be persecuted any longer. 

So, last week, while on the road to recovery mentally and emotionally as well as physically, I gave myself permission to not be the hero of this story. It is after all, not my responsibility, not my fault, not my doing, not even my duty to look after or even like these children. For a year, I've been carrying everyone and enabling everyone to just coast along and use me as a buffer from their drama, while I juggled pieces of broken communication, frustrated conversations and lack of funds. This, is supposed to be our dream come true. Instead, it's been a nightmare and I've allowed it.  No more. 

My steak in the ground

Sometimes you have to put your stake in the ground, in other words, make a big move. I chose to move in the direction of self preservation. I gave myself permission to leave the drama triangle and start living for myself, the bubbly, authentic and whole person I was before I chose this life, this drama, this man and his baggage. 

Does this mean that I'm leaving? I don't have to leave him/them to be free from these toxic emotions, resentment and hurt. I just have to set boundaries - and so does he with her. Yes, I have given an ultimatum and I know what needs to be done, but I will not accept being at the bottom of the prosperity list, while everyone else thrives. This isn't a charity, this is a team effort and I don't really like anyone right now, not even the person I've become. 

So here I am. I've booked movie nights with my girlfriends next week and I'm going to do a fun run with some of my friends at the end of the month. I'll be back at gym in a few weeks too. Unfortunately, if that excludes dad while he looks after his brood, that's his problem/duty/responsibility. It's not mean, it's not selfish, it's about being whole. I came into this as a whole person and I lost myself along the way. 

If you need me, I'll be getting my own life back. There will be times for family, time for romance and time for everyone else. One cannot be whole, when one spreads oneself to breaking point, so it is time to find balance by putting myself first once again. 

See you on the flip side of resentment, give yourself permission to live and free yourself from responsibilities that have nothing to do with you. My responsibility is to look after myself first, without burn out, fear, shame or destruction. 

I choose life and everyone is about to benefit from it. 

The day my flame went out

It's been a while I know. 

I was carrying on as normal with a slight bout of laryngitis last week, nothing unfamiliar to me, especially when I spend enough time around smokers at social events that my job requires me to be at. 

The day before, I had found myself in tears at my office boardroom.  A conflict with an overly pretentious colleague had us face to face and I wasn't in the mood to play. My usually diplomatic and peaceful temperament had left the building while my frustration whipped within me. This was, for a lack of a better explanation, an intervention brought on by my Director after a disgruntled phone call I had made earlier that day. My internal pressure cooker was working overtime, I could feel it building within me. I am not this person. 

Watershed

For the first time in my adult life and in all my years in the corporate world, I couldn't stop crying. It may have seemed like a ploy to "turn on the waterworks" to gain sympathy in any other circumstance, but my heart was genuinely breaking and none of it had to do with my immediate situation. Months of frustration seemed to escape from my eyeballs, leaving everyone incredibly sympathetic to 'how badly I had taken the confrontation'. If only they knew, if only I knew what was really going on deep inside me, but all was to be revealed within the next 24 hours despite my ignorance. 

The next morning my voice has dissipated to a croak and I had scheduled an appointment with my GP. Nipping this sniffle in the bud sooner rather than later, would be the difference between a slight sinus infection and full blown pneumonia which I'm very susceptible to, especially when my immune system has been compromised by internal stress. Your body is your compass and it's never wrong. 

As I prepared for the day, I stood in the shower as the water ran down my face, my back and between my toes. I could literally feel the knot in my throat force it's way up and down my esophagus as I literally tried to swallow my pent up frustrations like a thick, dry paste. In that moment, I allowed myself to release it all. Please note the permission I had to grant myself to acknowledge my wits end, the permission to feel. 

Months of resentment, frustration, chaos. Nothing really made sense, I had taken on Goliath and lost. I felt defeated and depleted with nothing more to give. I had taken on these children, their father, his baggage, their baggage, their close to psychotic mother who had contributed nothing, demanded everything and got away with it all and made it my own. I had the best intentions for them, for us. I was going to be the hero without actually trying to save anyone. 

The debt had piled up. Dad didn't have cash, how could he when he was paying for the children's necessities, school fees and after care. He was relying on me for everything else, they were relying on me. I was the bank, the grocery provider, the one ensuring lunches were made with bread I had purchased. I was the entertainment, the provider of lunchbox luxuries and Sunday afternoon ice cream treats. I provided clothing, stationery, school books and toiletries. I made doctors appointments for overdue check ups and paid for medications they needed. I was the provider of multivitamins, new school socks and birthday presents. Even in the midst of our Saturday night card games , the ex messages us with sinister and ominous messages of manipulation. Is there no rest for the wicked. Is this my life.

I was done, exhausted, finished and the saddest part is that I didn't even realise it until I was face to face with the truth that came in the form of a medical practitioner I had never met. 


My wake up call

As I got to the doctors room, I sat in the waiting room battling to withhold relentless tears that failed to cease from my swollen eyes. It was as if I had released a valve that connected my heart to my face and purged a torrent of salty resentment, fear, loss, hurt and guilt. I was cracking up. 

I hadn't even made it back from the toilet visit I had made to blow my nose, when the doctor I was seeing (and never met before) guessed that I was her next patient. Most of the consultation was a blur but what I do recall I won't ever forget. 

"By the sounds of things, you've got a lot on your plate. You've reached rock bottom, burn out my dear". She referred to my incessant shaking as 'adrenal fatigue', and then promptly prescribed a shopping list of medications to get me through as well as a contact number for a therapist. Above the IV bag containing a cocktail of vitamins and immune boosters, the most poignant message was that I needed to talk to someone, I needed support - real support. Although surrounded by moral support, I was doing this alone.  

She had hit the nail on the head, I'd been feeling my way through this step mother process, completely in the dark and in unfamiliar surroundings that I've referred to and proudly embraced as my new life. I needed help, and while I had parents and friends that were supportive in their own way, no one could really save me from my own conflicts. This was a medley of toxic waste that was poisoning my soul. 

The road to recovery 

Parenting isn't easy and while I was feeling alone, dad finds himself in the docs office today after days of a weekend of migraines and blurred vision. Something is different and with enough nagging we get an appointment for him to see someone with immediate effect. The diagnosis is anxiety and stress induced hypertension (of course it is *rolls eyes*). We really have taken an emotional beating and neither of us even saw it coming. How the hell did we manage to crash and burn within a week of each other. What happened to the fun and the laughter and the best years of our lives. This is a living hell. 

But the road to recovery is knowing what to take on and what simply isn't your battle. I've realised that even though I love these children, they are not my blood. I have bent over backwards, borrowed money, extended overdrafts and provided where their mother simply fails to do so. Often I wonder if she see's full custody as a way and means of gaining funds for her own personal interests. 

I refuse to give any more 'airtime' to a woman that wants to play games, manipulate and break us down while we give 110% to 2 small children that have no idea how to express gratitude let alone comprehend the sacrifices I've made for them. Gourmet lunches prepped at night, school photographs purchased for their benefit, collection from school on the days that dad is running late and then fuel for his car that he cannot afford because he's stretched so thin financially. How is this fair, any of it.  

We have but one life and it's has been overrun with anxieties and stresses that aren't even mine to start with. This is not my family, they are not my responsibility, yet I choose to provide, care, love. Does this make me a martyr? Do I care too much?  

Perhaps I'm living through my own guilt, childhood issues and hurts by moving heaven and earth for two little beings that were strangers to me 12 months ago. But watch this space, I've got a game plan and I'm getting my life back!

In the meantime, there are tranquilizers, a week off work and a partner whose love makes it all worthwhile. We'll get through this, we'll figure it all out. Everything is already okay. 

Love, my motivation and my undoing.