I sit here and I want to tell you about my weekend.

I want to type it all out, to tell you about the Hotel Du Vin we stayed in, a former Victorian eye hospital in Birmingham. I want to tell you about the amazing shower (so amazing, I took three of them in 12 hours). I want to tell you about the way Mr. Y and I had fantastic sex here:

View Image

(which would at least give this guy more material to work with), but I find my fingers are sluggish. Slow and immobile. I think my heart is sitting too hard on them.

I want to tell you about the wonderful restaurant Mr. Y took us to, where we indulged in a fantastic meal served by a waiter in grey pajamas that jumped when we asked him to, without even adding the one-liner "How high?" after that.

I want to relay then how lovely it was to sit in the Champagne bar and have champagne after that. The thoughtfully named "Bubble Room" is exactly that, a bubble room of masses of enjoyment in champagne delights. Mr. Y took his shoes off and smoked a cigar, a gesture I find terribly endearing and indulgent. I sat there in a nice outfit, the neckline the boldest cleavage revealing I have ever had, a V that ends in a point somewhere below my chest, just revealing the tiny raised pink lips of my old scars.

I'm trying to tell you about Stratford-Upon-Avon, a gorgeous town that personifies the word "cute", that is more quaint than quaint, a town that stretches history like an arrow on a bow and twangs the sharply drawn string. It has more older buildings still existing than any town I have seen here in England, and a row of donated street lights from other countries has Mr. Y's rapt attention and delight, and I am so pleased that he has something to delight and enjoy. He doesn't like Shakespeare, but I do (I wonder if you can guess my favorite work by Shakespeare?) and this town is a happy canal-filled delight of cuteness and charm.

It would be great to talk about our drive to Wales the next day, to stay in a spa in Cardiff. Our room has a stunning view of the water over the balcony, the beds are so downy soft they make my eyes open in wonder. Mr. Y and I, clad in the thick and warm robes that come hanging like little ghosts on the back of our bathroom door, make our way outside and have sex on the balcony, me bent over the railing and both of us watching the ships in the harbor.

We walk through a street fair on the beautiful harbor. We buy French nectarines. I feel heady with love. A posse of clowns in grease paint walks by and one of them compliments me and I want to snarl at him "Fuck off and leave me alone, clown, or else I will remove your carotid artery through your knees." but I simply keep my clown revulsion to a minimum and I smile at him. Mr. Y and I eat Indian food and then stand outside and watch a fireworks display, and Mr. Y puts his arm around me as we stand by the bay and I love it love it love it.

Monday morning we wake up and head for the spa treatments, and spend time in the salty hydrotherapy pool, the bandeau top of my bikini trying to make a run for it in the pool and Mr. Y making dead-on impressions of the sound of a speed boat in the water. We sit in the sauna and let the heat soak into our pores. In the elevator together I catch my reflection in the mirror and tell him I need another pair of jeans like these, as they make my ass look great. Mr. Y disagrees, saying they cost too much (they were £70, which is about $125, but man are they the best jeans I have ever worn in my life).

I wish I could show you the pictures in my head of the next day, where we visit an outdoor museum called "Welsh Life", where we see actual homes, mills, tollbooths, barns, etc from all over Wales, buildings brought to this site and preserved as they were in time, so we can walk through a Victorian terrace home from 1805, a farmhouse from 1534, or a post-war pre-fab house from 1948. It's amazing and fantastic, the crowds around us with the sing-song Welsh accent or even speaking Welsh (how marvelous-hope that the language won't die, and when a gaggle of teens walks past us speaking Welsh to each other it seems there is even more hope for the future of the Welsh language.)

And then we get home and our neighbors kittens (the ones I call the Tabby Bombs) ping through the house. Mr. Y cooks us a wonderful dinner which I end up not eating, since the fighting breaks through and dampens my hunger. We have a terrible fight about the holidays, a misunderstanding that we both take personally. The War of the Words commences and it becomes a terrible argument, a fight that includes him wondering if our relationship will make it.

And just like that, I am watching myself from the hallway. The last vestige of support and strength in my life a rug yanked out from under my feet. I have been pushing tin, I have been the air traffic controller of the airline wreck of my life. Lining up Air Family, I have followed it with Dad Airlines, and both of them are smoldering wrecks of plane crashes on the tarmac in my heart. My lovely Mr. Y, the one person who has actually penetrated every part of my life, can't be a part of that too, he simply can't, I simply love him too much. Since he has worries about me, shouldn't that mean I need to have worries about him, too? You know-balance things out? Am I so ignorant?

I can't understand anything anymore. My family has wrung me dry. I feel an utter fucking failure and if you're tired of me writing about my family, best not to read here for a bit as it's only going to get worse for a while. The sadness and confusion over what happened last week has been replaced by a ball inside of me. This ball, a swinging concrete wrecking ball, is one-part guilt over letting my family down, over hurting my mother, over the fact that she hasn't let it sink in or I haven't been clear enough that I think she is so strong.

And the ball is two-parts blistering, molten, vibrating rage and wrath at what has happened.

Eclipsed by the sarcasm and horrible things that were flung about the living room last night, I know I should get over it and let it all pass-Mr. Y was in a good and buoyant mood this morning, I know I need to get cheerful too lest we have another terrible evening. I am trying. Honest. He gave me a hug. And a kiss. He cuddled me and slept next to me, both of us doped with sleeping tablets since anger makes an uncomfortable sleeping partner.

I want to tell you all about my weekend, and maybe I just did, but it seems like I am sitting here in front of myself and all I feel is lonely. I am not having a go at Mr. Y in this post. It didn't even matter to me that Jersey didn't work out in the end, the disappointment non-existent, since I had such a lovely time with my man, whom I love so much it sometimes knocks the wind out of me. Why do fights affect me so much? They're just words, I try to tell myself. Just words. Let it go.

Last week was so fucking miserable, I simply can't accept that this week is lining up to be like that, too. I'm not kidding when I say I feel bruised and hurt in a number of places that I never knew could itch like that. I look at things that get said to me by people close to me, and I hate myself for letting them hurt so much. I hate myself for my weakness and inability to stop thinking about the negative. I am the type that Darwin would have selected out-normal people do not replay the painful things in a reel in their heads like I have.

I am so pathetic sometimes, I wish my teeter-totter would break and fling me to the ground, so that I am not so exposed and vulnerable anymore, sitting here all alone on my elevated seat.

My email is down. I have work to do but simply can't face it. I have writing to get out of me but simply don't know how to string words together today. I've been reading all the kind and wonderful comments that have been left here, and I should reply to them but I can't. I have kittens to pet and household things to attend to. But the truth is, I think I would rather spend my day in bed, in a closet, or under the living room table.

So if you'll excuse me, I have a table to lie under. It's comfortable enough. There's even a rug under it.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 10:17 AM | Comments (35) | Add Comment
Post contains 1601 words, total size 9 kb.

1 You cannot undo what's been done. The events of last week might suck mightly, but you've got Y and luckily for him he's got you. You've got to stop trying to see the glass as half empty and start seeing it as half full (and a damn good first half you've already drunk). Life's always got ups and downs, although admittedly yours are higher and lower than most. If you're hitting a low now that just means you're that much closer to the next high. So instead of looking at the underneath of your table you should try to soldier on and get on with the regular routine as much as you can. Because if you don't fight it, it's going to win.

Posted by: Simon at August 31, 2004 11:20 AM (OyeEA)

2 i thought everyone had those reels of bad memories in their heads that they played over and over, wishing each time they could change them. I've found that hiding under a desk for a bit does help, as long as I don't wallow too much, which it's easy to do when my mood's that way. so, I hope that you find some comfort curled up under the table - physically and mentally. i know nothing anyone says can necessarily make anything better but know that there are people who care and are sending good thoughts out here stretched across the internet.

Posted by: martha at August 31, 2004 12:22 PM (5HJ2h)

3 Geez. First, I just want to wrap you up in my arms and hug you until it stops hurting so bad. Or you have to go to the bathroom, 'cause then I'd let go. Promise. Simon makes a lot of sense, as usual. I'll just add this, if you love him, fight for him, for the relationship, for your life together. Don't give it all up.

Posted by: RP at August 31, 2004 01:00 PM (LlPKh)

4 Though I'm running the danger of repeating myself here: *Hugs*. It strikes me, though, that as important as Mr. Y is to you and you to him, you guys really need to work on your communication (this coming from me is the height of irony, but let's ignore that for the moment). I get the impression that you're fighting way more than strictly necessary. Especially since fights are not just words in much the same way that a touch is not just a some random skin-on-skin contact.

Posted by: Gudy at August 31, 2004 01:55 PM (gRHkx)

5 I don't have the talent to express my feelings to you. There's a song by Bing Crosby called "Pennies From Heaven". If you don't know it, look up the lyrics. Everytime I hear that song, I think of you and Mr. Y.

Posted by: Lindsay at August 31, 2004 02:13 PM (srIAp)

6 I'll meet you under the table. With a bottle of single malt and some strong cheese. Maybe two bottles?

Posted by: Jim at August 31, 2004 02:41 PM (GCA5m)

7 Take heart, Helen. You are in your sixth life now and you get to do things differently than you did in your previous lives. Your questions to Mr Y about his love are about you, not about him... some questions don't have answers, which is a terribly difficult lesson to learn. You will feel best when you truly can be happy by yourself. Not that this needs to happen, but your happiness ought not be wrapped so tightly with someone else. I care about you over these internet lines and hope you find a new way, a sixth life way, to work through this.

Posted by: amelia at August 31, 2004 03:32 PM (hYnWv)

8 I wish I had something more profound than "ditto what they said" to make you feel better. Instead I'll only add this. From the looks of the picture up there, your ass is fine, milady (she says with appreciation and only the slightest bit of envy). *hugs* Helen. At some point, inevitably, things have nowhere to go but up.

Posted by: Jennifer at August 31, 2004 03:51 PM (vSro2)

9 You surprise me. Why do fights affect you so much? Because they are words. Words. You know, those things that you are passionate about. Those things that you string together in a way that lets everyone who reads you know you were born to build your life around "just words". The words are the thing you want to do with your life. The things you love. And that is why when they are hurled across the living room they make a dent in your spirit. Words are not just words to a writer. They are scenery and props and weapons - and the hurt they cause is just as real as the words.

Posted by: amy t. at August 31, 2004 03:53 PM (xKhv0)

10 It's always great to hear about another of your great adventures that lifts your spirits. Unfortunately it seems that it isn't long before storm clouds spring up out of nowhere to dump on you yet again. Don't be so hard on yourself for not being what others would like you to be. Be the person you want to be, the person you've earned the right to be! Then tell those that don't like it to kindly sod off. Regardless of similar last names or addresses. Take care, little flame.

Posted by: Paul at August 31, 2004 04:25 PM (xdj7o)

11 Is it big enough for two....? It just has to get better Helen.

Posted by: Rebecca at August 31, 2004 04:27 PM (ZHfdF)

12 Yes, your family sucks the big toe. But honey, you don't live with them. They haven't been your support for a very, very long time. That's a lesson I'm having to learn right now, too, so please don't think it's easy for me to say or something. They aren't your support package. You're WORKING on a support package - that's why it's so hard to have small things go wrong with Y. Sweetheart, look at what you've done the past month or so. You went to Venice. Told off the git at work. Went on holiday again for the weekend. Held your own at meetings. Hello, are you not seeing the same things we are? Loving your family does not mean that they are going to love you back. It certainly doesn't mean that they're going to accept you. But honey, when have you ever really felt part of that group? I don't mean to cast aspersions; I'm sure they're lovely people - they're just not for you, okay? BUILD YOUR OWN LIFE.

Posted by: Kaetchen at August 31, 2004 04:30 PM (1nMRx)

13 i can relate to how the fights affect you. i think it's perfectly understandable how they sit with you like a hangover. you've been through a lot. so take the time to take excellent care of yourself darlin. seriously. if you do go under the table, make it into a fort with blankets and pillows, chocolate and good books, and kittens of course. xoxoxo

Posted by: kat at August 31, 2004 04:41 PM (FhSIP)

14 Confused and sad...that seems to be the story of my life as well. Know that you're not alone *hugs*

Posted by: croxie at August 31, 2004 04:42 PM (GlMbo)

15 Oh no, honey. Sometimes I think anger and hurt and fear are contagious - like a cold. And when there is a desperate need for someone to hold us, comfort us, stand straddled to the Earth and be a rock against it all - that is when this awful contagion, this insidious goo of negative shit, takes stripes out of every good thing and instead we find ourselves arguing instead of hugging. Ain't it a bitch? You are worth love, and happiness, and you will have it. You DO have it, even if a dark cloud is in the way... If only I could remember where I left my freaking pixy dust, to make this all better... or at the very least somewhat better. Love, Elizabeth VP of the M.A.S.

Posted by: Elizabeth at August 31, 2004 05:21 PM (YCUSR)

16 Wow! You're letting a simple fight nullify all the good things you got out of the weekend. Do you have any idea how lovely all that sounded? Most of us don't get to do something that great but maybe once in a lifetime, if at all! Don't let a disagreement erase it. By the way, I love the new picture you put up, and my guess is "Midsummer night's dream." Hope you're feeling better. :-)

Posted by: Mick at August 31, 2004 06:07 PM (VhRca)

17 Did it occur to you that Mr. Y made the comment about whether or not your relationship would last as a threat, knowing how that would send you off the deep end? And if he could say something truly nasty like that for that reason, then he isn't worth your time. I'd be looking to replace him with someone with less baggage, (kids, ex's, insecurities etc) with taking care of myself, working out my own issues and possibly finding someone worth all the feelings you have invested in this relationship. I think you got into this, (both of you) before you were ready, and now that you're in it, it's too late. Stay out from under the table, and get on someone's couch, are you still going to therapy?

Posted by: Donna at August 31, 2004 07:41 PM (rjW8B)

18 Once more, for the cheap seats- I am not dumping Mr. Y. End of discussion about that one.

Posted by: Helen at August 31, 2004 08:09 PM (up+eF)

19 Well, I was going to blog about the fight Dan and I had on Saturday night and then suggest you check out my blog as a study in communication breakdown, so you wouldn't feel so all alone in the trials and tribulations of being a couple, but it got so unwieldly and depressing and besides, Dan and I have made up since then, so... I'll just comment here! YAY! Helen, I've said things to Dan before, like, "maybe this isn't going to work out" during arguments, but I never said it because I didn't love Dan any more. Quite the contrary. I've said such things because *I've* felt inadequate. I felt I was screwing everything up and making Dan's life miserable, so it was an offer to leave and stop his torture. Not because I didn't love Dan any more. And Dan has said similar things in an argument to me, even though he loves me just as much right back. So....did Mr. Y say "maybe this isn't working out" as a way to hurt you, because suddenly he doesn't like you anymore (highly unlikely) or because he was so frustrated at not being able to fix your angst about your family despite his taking you on a mini-vacation, despite all his efforts to "fix you" that he spoke hastily out of the male frustration at not being able to do his job: mainly, fix his woman's unhappiness for good and all. It's really common for our men to get angry and hurt with us when they feel they are doing everything they can think of to make us happy and yet, we still aren't happy. They start questioning themselves; am I doing a good job as her man? Apparently not, since she is still unhappy... I don't know if this scenario fits for you two or not. I can only share what I've been through in my relationship and the misunderstandings and hurt we've gone through as a couple. I'll end with this; you have every right to feel what you feel. Your family shat on you and that's just going to take time for you to process, Hotel du Vin and great sex or no Hotel du Vin and great sex. It just takes time. And the Dan's and Mr. Y's of the world are just going to have to be patient with us, because we can't always bounce back as fast as they would like us to. Right? I sure as hell hope this made sense to you. If not...NEVERMIND! *grin* {{{{{{hugs}}}}}}}

Posted by: Amber at August 31, 2004 08:33 PM (zQE5D)

20 Hey darlin' I'm going to make this comment short and sweet. When you love someone as much as you love Mr. Y (I always think of Mr. Big when I read his name) anyway when that love is so intense, the fights feel even more so. Like your world is just crubbling around you. I'm sure everything will be fine when he gets home. Love is a double edged sword. It's so comforting one minute and painful the next. Hang in there babe. Think happy thoughts. Do something for you.

Posted by: Tiffani at August 31, 2004 08:52 PM (xpNFK)

21 Passionate people have passionate relationships and argue passionately as well. I have had relationships that were comfortable and had few fights, but a low level of emotion in general. The man I'm with now is as emotional as me, and we feel strongly about each other, and we fight intensely as we love. Nothing *wrong* with that. I've said, in the midst of fighting, that I don't think we can go on together - several times, because I'm just so overwhelmed by emotion I feel helpless to ever make it right again. It doesn't mean anything except that fighting with my SO is an unbearable feeling. There is a school of thought that says when you find your mate, in many ways they complete you, filling out the parts of you that are deficient (or more importantly that you FEEL are deficient) - and that's way, when you feel that some higher force (bad luck in love, or "insurmountable" personal conflicts) your instincts tell you that you're going to DIE. Which is not true, of course, but creates an overpowering sense of desperation (that might provoke Mr. Y to say something he doesn't really believe).

Posted by: nickel at September 01, 2004 01:30 AM (Qx+ll)

22 Sorry Helen been on vacation since Thursday so I am just getting caught up. It is hurtful and damaging that people who you write about got hold of your blog and access to your inner most thoughts. But what is done is done and all you can do is go from here. I hope that you dont stop blogging since if nothing else it helps you puts your thoughts on paper. Prehaps their is a way you can start protecting your posts? Either way I wish you luck if your up for talking drop me a email. I will keep you in my thoughts

Posted by: drew at September 01, 2004 03:51 AM (sW2xV)

23 When you love someone deeply, the things they say hurt more. Someone could come up to me on the street and tell me they hate my hair and I would blow it off. A friend could say the same and it would torque me off a little and make me angry. My spouse could say it and I am suddenly mortally wounded. Words are important, but more importantly is who says them.

Posted by: Boudicca at September 01, 2004 04:23 AM (/hhVq)

24 Take care of you, dear. I wish I had something better to say, but I don't. I worry for you, but I know you will be okay, you are always okay because you have some amazing strength that I can't begin to understand. In your shoes, I would have broken a long time ago. Hang in there.

Posted by: Heather at September 01, 2004 05:50 AM (JaoWm)

25 *hugs* you'll get past this. unless you let it break you both. you've both undergone huge changes to end up where you are now, together, and that has an impact on your life. no matter how much you love each other. hang in there.

Posted by: melanie at September 01, 2004 10:14 AM (jDC3U)

26 H, can you PLEASE getup from under that table, get out and get some fresh air !! leave the family and Mr. Y. go out for golf or something else !! I am good at tennis. Wanna team up ??

Posted by: freevheel at September 01, 2004 10:18 AM (79vbc)

27 H, I have lots I want to tell you but I am going to put it in an email. Instead I am going to tell you just one thing... Your new photo looks GORGEOUS.

Posted by: stinkerbell at September 01, 2004 04:32 PM (m18uI)

28 Nickel said: "Passionate people have passionate relationships and argue passionately as well." Hear Hear! Exactly! (Okay, I'll shut up now...I'm a terrible double-commenter...I hang my head in shame)

Posted by: Amber at September 01, 2004 04:44 PM (zQE5D)

29 Stinker hit the nail on the head. I love the new photo! Such fab personality in it! --Hit me up next time you're on the you-know-what, lovey. I've got a thing or two I want to chat about. (You know, pigtails and whether or not I can borrow your pink fuzzy shirt this Saturday night.) xxx

Posted by: Ms. Pants at September 01, 2004 07:22 PM (oa04D)

30 Hey! Are those the jeans? The $125.00 jeans? 'Cause damn girl...you do look good. Go get more...NOW!

Posted by: Lily at September 01, 2004 08:55 PM (PuHU/)

31 First, the new pic, yum! Only thing is the pose, taken with your description of the balconey and the ships in the harbor... I guess frustraition is just one more thing that makes you stronger if it doesn't kill you first. =) A note on the family. You can't run ATC and fly AirHelen. You can't control how your family chooses to handle their lives, not while living your own life in a healthy manor. The point was made in your comments from a couples of days ago, it comes down to retraining people to treat you in a way you deserve, and not accepting anything less. Maybe try to look at this as the first step in that process, a begining instead of an end. Just a thought from a diehard optimistist...The terminally frustraited one =)

Posted by: Dane at September 01, 2004 09:30 PM (ncyv4)

32 Oh Helen, You helped me once, a total stranger who turned your direction for support through some scary and self-destructive feelings. And even though it was brief, and through this impersonal medium, you touched me deeply and comforted me. Thank you for that. I hope you are receiving that same kind of support now, from wherever and whoever you most need it from.

Posted by: ophelia at September 01, 2004 11:46 PM (PIyCc)

33 Thanks, guys. You make me cry, but in an ok way. And aren't my jeans great?

Posted by: Helen at September 02, 2004 04:24 PM (up+eF)

34 They're more than great. They're fabulous...kinda like you.

Posted by: Lily at September 02, 2004 07:42 PM (PuHU/)

35 You should read the apology.

Posted by: Chance at September 06, 2004 04:29 AM (MJjpA)

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