Q. Your life seems to have got a lot more creative in the last ten years- you've flourished since your divorce.
Yes, the break-up with T was a big turning point but it was meant to be. I've rediscovered myself as a single woman, and it is so much better than I ever imagined it would be. I've had time, I've learned a lot. I've had quite a few exhibitions of my art work and had a few articles published, I am currently re-writing a book for children which I am enjoying immensely.
Q. Do you regret staying with T for so long now?
I always thought he would change, and that was my very big mistake. People don't change, unless they really want to, and you can't make them. I probably stayed with him for longer than I should have done. All I can say is that he really loved me and I really loved him. But relationships aren't necessarily meant to be forever. I don't think our marriage failed, it just ran its course and changed shape.
Q. But you wouldn't want your daughters to be in a relationship like that...
No, never.But I don't think they would. They have far more confidence than I did, and they have great boundaries. It took me longer to learn those.
Q.Have you forgiven him?
Oh yes. We are both proud that we had a good divorce. We put the children first, and managed to have an amicable break-up and we've got this great friendship and shared history. We loved each other romantically
and now we love each other platonically.You look at some of the high profile divorces that go on and on. and they are so bitter. But that just ties you to the past.
Q.Don't you ever get angry?
My best friend gets exasperated with me for not having 'enough anger' - not at T, not at my parents... but I'm not suppressing anything. I get angry but I don't stay angry. I don't like toxic emotions. They keep you stuck.
Q. After a relationship like that, are you more wary about love?
No, I like men but I don't believe in soulmates- the whole idea is a big romantic con. We need lots of different things at different times from different people or things.
Q. What makes you love someone?
When we are younger, it's all about passion and biology. Maybe on some level we're not aware of, we're drawn to someone because we recognise that this person is a good mate, who we can have children with, and that biological drive is very powerful. I think T and I were meant to be together but over time things changed between us. We can't resist that kind of passion, and we're not meant to, but I think real love builds through friendship, and friendship is the deep, eternal part of a relationship.
Q. So, are you looking for a different kind of relationship now?
I will be 50 in a few months time, I'm not going to get swept away by passion in the same way. I love kindness, intelligence, culture, humour. But I don't think I'll get married again. I've discovered that I like being a single woman, and I love my own space.
Q. What do you like about it?
It's such a relief and luxury to be only answerable to yourself. I just love being with my girls, hanging out at home. I like to sleep diagonally across the bed.
Q.Do you ever get lonely? Or wish you had someone to look after you?
I get so much love from my children, my friends and my dog and I don't need a man to take care of me- I do a pretty good job taking care of myself. I didn't know there would be such a good side to single life- it's a lot to give up.
Q. Can you have a relationship and maintain that kind of independence?
I think it's important to try. I have always made time for other friendships and I'm so glad I did as those friendships have lasted.
Q.What were you like as a little girl?
I was brought up in fear and that really shapes your character. I think I suffered from low self-esteem for a long time. My father had issues and he would fly into violent rages, I left home when I was very young. I was terrified of him for quite a long time but as you get older you begin to understand your parents as people and see why they did what they did. My mother died very recently and my father is quite broken.
Q. What was your mother's role?
She didn't know what to do or how to protect us. We were very close but after I had children of my own I went through a stage of being angry with her. But then I realised who she was as a person. She married at 18, she was a small town girl. She did the best she could.
Q.What do you think has been the legacy of your childhood?
Well, in spite of it all, my mother was a very positive and optimistic person and I'd like to think I'd inherited that. It was difficult to forgive the violence but more important is to not repeat it. My brother and I broke the pattern, neither he or I have ever hurt our children and although my brother died some time ago, when he was alive he was a lovely dad to his kids. You don't have to repeat the mistakes of the past.
Q. Life advice in a line?
'It is not events, but our interpretations of them, which cause us suffering.' Stoic philosopher Epictetus.
Thursday, 9 May 2013
Wednesday, 24 April 2013
Groundhog Day,
Oh dear, oh dear! I have started to have the dreaded 'Up Hill' dream again. This hasn't happened since I divorced and moved house nearly seven years ago. I don't need the dream book to explain what it means, it's perfectly blooming obvious- life is an uphill struggle at the moment.
I had to postpone my hip replacement operation as my mum died suddenly the week before my due date. I think in the last month my bones must have been crunching together so much that now a lot of the time the pain is excruciating, the pain is similar to the fizzy pain you get in your hand when you have banged your funny bone, this pain goes fizzing right down from groin to knee- almost constantly. This is not the reason that life is an uphill struggle.
I don't need to go into details of grief. Everyone will suffer in different ways and it will be a hard and often long journey. Luckily for me my spiritual beliefs have kept me strong- I KNOW mum is in heaven with her mum and son and other relatives who have passed. People can challenge my beliefs if they want but it will be to no avail, I am firm on this. Often mum, dad and I would discuss their deaths and I always said,' Well, mum will zoom up to heaven into grandma's arms and dad will slowly plod up the longest rickety ladder to be met by St Peter who will turn him around and send him straight back down again.'
Dad has not used his time wisely on earth. At the end of our lives on earth the only thing that really matters is the love you have shared.
Sadly mum's death has brought out some unpleasant personality traits in some people and this is why I'm finding life to be an uphill struggle. It is so stressful trying to be tactful to so many people at the same time when really all I want to do is tell them all to 'bog off!'
It is only just over a month since we lost mum but in that time what was a 'family' (albeit not that close) has now become a dysfunctional family, with so and so having the hump with so and so, others getting the hump over the scattering of ashes, others over who is going to get what and when, misconstrued conversations, treading on egg shells with bruised egos, tactfulness, anger issues etc etc- it's exhausting.
Also, I'm still skint so every morning when I'm waking up my first surprised thought is;I haven't got a mum any more, then my blooming leg is killing me then, god, how am I going to tax the car then, the dog is about to chew right through my earlobe, then s**t who's that texting me this early in the morning?? Then feel heart shrink a little as dad's number comes up. I cannot deal with him this early on- he keeps asking me to do one thing, then changes his mind and it's another thing, then he's insulting some other member/s of the family who I happen to adore and it makes me want to punch him then he keeps declaring that 'EVERYTHING IS MINE!!EVERYTHING THAT WAS MUM'S IS NOW MINE.' even though he is fully aware that I'm unable to work at the moment and am on the verge of park bench status. This is all before I've even wobbled my leg into swinging out of bed position.
In less than six weeks I have lost my mum, organised her funeral, flowers, readings, speeches, talked to the priest ( I don't like priests) informed distraught relatives and friends of the arrangements, carried out said arrangements including wake, scattered her ashes in The Fairy Wood and struggled to keep warring siblings and dad apart.
Well at least I'm sure mum is safe in heaven but at this rate when the time comes I'll be sending dad to hell in a handcart.
All you need is love.
I had to postpone my hip replacement operation as my mum died suddenly the week before my due date. I think in the last month my bones must have been crunching together so much that now a lot of the time the pain is excruciating, the pain is similar to the fizzy pain you get in your hand when you have banged your funny bone, this pain goes fizzing right down from groin to knee- almost constantly. This is not the reason that life is an uphill struggle.
I don't need to go into details of grief. Everyone will suffer in different ways and it will be a hard and often long journey. Luckily for me my spiritual beliefs have kept me strong- I KNOW mum is in heaven with her mum and son and other relatives who have passed. People can challenge my beliefs if they want but it will be to no avail, I am firm on this. Often mum, dad and I would discuss their deaths and I always said,' Well, mum will zoom up to heaven into grandma's arms and dad will slowly plod up the longest rickety ladder to be met by St Peter who will turn him around and send him straight back down again.'
Dad has not used his time wisely on earth. At the end of our lives on earth the only thing that really matters is the love you have shared.
Sadly mum's death has brought out some unpleasant personality traits in some people and this is why I'm finding life to be an uphill struggle. It is so stressful trying to be tactful to so many people at the same time when really all I want to do is tell them all to 'bog off!'
It is only just over a month since we lost mum but in that time what was a 'family' (albeit not that close) has now become a dysfunctional family, with so and so having the hump with so and so, others getting the hump over the scattering of ashes, others over who is going to get what and when, misconstrued conversations, treading on egg shells with bruised egos, tactfulness, anger issues etc etc- it's exhausting.
Also, I'm still skint so every morning when I'm waking up my first surprised thought is;I haven't got a mum any more, then my blooming leg is killing me then, god, how am I going to tax the car then, the dog is about to chew right through my earlobe, then s**t who's that texting me this early in the morning?? Then feel heart shrink a little as dad's number comes up. I cannot deal with him this early on- he keeps asking me to do one thing, then changes his mind and it's another thing, then he's insulting some other member/s of the family who I happen to adore and it makes me want to punch him then he keeps declaring that 'EVERYTHING IS MINE!!EVERYTHING THAT WAS MUM'S IS NOW MINE.' even though he is fully aware that I'm unable to work at the moment and am on the verge of park bench status. This is all before I've even wobbled my leg into swinging out of bed position.
In less than six weeks I have lost my mum, organised her funeral, flowers, readings, speeches, talked to the priest ( I don't like priests) informed distraught relatives and friends of the arrangements, carried out said arrangements including wake, scattered her ashes in The Fairy Wood and struggled to keep warring siblings and dad apart.
Well at least I'm sure mum is safe in heaven but at this rate when the time comes I'll be sending dad to hell in a handcart.
All you need is love.
Tuesday, 9 April 2013
Groundhog Day Diary
In that strange time between sleeping and waking a question entered my head, 'I know the saying,'I think, therefore I am,' but I don't, it would be truer for me to say, 'I feel, therefore I am.' Why?
I ponder this while the puppy struggles to wake, stretching and groaning and scratching my back. I look into his hazel eyes and feel love, I don't think love.
Living my life through feeling has been quite difficult. I try to reason things through and obviously the day to day running of my life requires thinking on an all consuming level but when it comes to being me it is all about how I feel. I felt loss when I heard of the death of Margaret Thatcher, I felt that she was a lady who changed the world and one whose legacy will be widely felt, maybe not immediately but in years to come she will be seen as a marvellous role model for women and change. I feel her death has left a void in the world but I don't feel like a lot of people will feel the same.
I spoke to my niece yesterday and she said she thought I was very composed at my mother's funeral which took place a week ago. I was composed as I know my mum is now with her own mum in the golden land of heaven, my feelings about this are unwavering but I could not enter a rational argument on the subject, I have no proof that this is the case but I strongly feel it to be true and this gives me comfort. I have had the feeling for quite some time that mum was, 'ready to go,' and it has been no secret that mum's love for her own mother was something quite extraordinary, sometimes I've felt that mum was passing time here on the earth plane just waiting to be reunited with her true love. That's fine, mum loved us but I've always understood her feelings for her own mum.
Quite often I meet people and straight away I've summed up how I feel about them. This can be very annoying as although I try and be rational about it, asking, telling myself to take a step back and get to know the person, my deep seated demon screams, 'no, he's a wrong-un and you know it!' or 'she's not telling the truth, don't trust her.' My feelings are usually right, or have I transferred my feelings onto the person?
I sometimes wish I was more intelligent, better educated, factual, down to earth and capable of reasoning and I do try and fathom things out, I realise my feelings are not infallible yet it is intuition that rules my life and how I live it.
The dictionary describes intuition as: the ability to understand or know something without conscious reasoning.
It's exhausting though living with this sixth sense, a feeling in my bones,hunches, premonitions, sneaking suspicions, gut feelings. Surely it must be easier to sail through life using reason and logic?
I have looked into why I am like I am and have decided it has a lot to do with my birth signs, I have both sun and moon in water signs which are directly linked to emotions, feelings and intuition.
If I lived in another era I would probably have been drowned in the village pond by now!
As I am coming up to a big birthday I have decided to embrace who I am and stop questioning myself.
To some 'I think, therefore I am,' sums them up nicely but from now on my personal slogan is
'I feel, therefore I am.'
That was the conversation I had with myself before I even got out of bed this morning, that's how tiring it is- a rational person would have simply got up and put the kettle on!
I ponder this while the puppy struggles to wake, stretching and groaning and scratching my back. I look into his hazel eyes and feel love, I don't think love.
Living my life through feeling has been quite difficult. I try to reason things through and obviously the day to day running of my life requires thinking on an all consuming level but when it comes to being me it is all about how I feel. I felt loss when I heard of the death of Margaret Thatcher, I felt that she was a lady who changed the world and one whose legacy will be widely felt, maybe not immediately but in years to come she will be seen as a marvellous role model for women and change. I feel her death has left a void in the world but I don't feel like a lot of people will feel the same.
I spoke to my niece yesterday and she said she thought I was very composed at my mother's funeral which took place a week ago. I was composed as I know my mum is now with her own mum in the golden land of heaven, my feelings about this are unwavering but I could not enter a rational argument on the subject, I have no proof that this is the case but I strongly feel it to be true and this gives me comfort. I have had the feeling for quite some time that mum was, 'ready to go,' and it has been no secret that mum's love for her own mother was something quite extraordinary, sometimes I've felt that mum was passing time here on the earth plane just waiting to be reunited with her true love. That's fine, mum loved us but I've always understood her feelings for her own mum.
Quite often I meet people and straight away I've summed up how I feel about them. This can be very annoying as although I try and be rational about it, asking, telling myself to take a step back and get to know the person, my deep seated demon screams, 'no, he's a wrong-un and you know it!' or 'she's not telling the truth, don't trust her.' My feelings are usually right, or have I transferred my feelings onto the person?
I sometimes wish I was more intelligent, better educated, factual, down to earth and capable of reasoning and I do try and fathom things out, I realise my feelings are not infallible yet it is intuition that rules my life and how I live it.
The dictionary describes intuition as: the ability to understand or know something without conscious reasoning.
It's exhausting though living with this sixth sense, a feeling in my bones,hunches, premonitions, sneaking suspicions, gut feelings. Surely it must be easier to sail through life using reason and logic?
I have looked into why I am like I am and have decided it has a lot to do with my birth signs, I have both sun and moon in water signs which are directly linked to emotions, feelings and intuition.
If I lived in another era I would probably have been drowned in the village pond by now!
As I am coming up to a big birthday I have decided to embrace who I am and stop questioning myself.
To some 'I think, therefore I am,' sums them up nicely but from now on my personal slogan is
'I feel, therefore I am.'
That was the conversation I had with myself before I even got out of bed this morning, that's how tiring it is- a rational person would have simply got up and put the kettle on!
Sunday, 7 April 2013
Groundhog Day Diary
In a fit of pique and in a, 'tidy house, tidy mind' mood I have managed to delete and lose all of my previous posts entitled Groundhog Day. Having spent an entire weekend trying to retrieve them, I have admitted defeat and have decided to start all over again. As the title is self explanatory I don't suppose it matters very much!
I am waiting to have a hip replacement operation and am unable to work, walking is difficult; I tend to lurch from one work top to another or cling desperately to door frames, shopping trolleys, people, even my dog for support. Although I won't be auditioning for Strictly Come Dancing any time soon I can still manage most tasks albeit much more slowly than I used to.
I had X-rays at the hospital the other day and my hip has deteriorated alarmingly over the course of the last year, there is no cartilage left at all and that explains the horrible grinding noise I can hear and feel when I turn in a certain way, sometimes attracting horrified looks from strangers in the supermarket as if it's a gruesome party trick.
You would think that being stuck at home most of the time would be pretty boring but the aim of my Groundhog Day Diary is to show that it really isn't dull at all, although I must admit that lately the weather has been making it increasingly difficult to stay optimistic and cheerful while hobbling through each day bumping and grinding while my teeth are chattering and I'm shivering. Surely the big freeze can't go on for much longer?
The diary will tell the story of my everyday life while I wait for the operation. Each day beginning with a description of my dreams of the night before some of which will be pretty weird, any budding psychologists will have a field day. Waking up with my dog who at the beginning of the diary was a sweet, light little pup who enjoyed sleeping with his face on mine, He hasn't realised that he has grown somewhat and although he still likes to sleep with his face on mine he sometimes nearly suffocates me. I wake up to see a huge hazel eye peering into mine with a look of absolute adoration so I let him off. And then the day begins.
Saturday, 9 March 2013
Narcissistic Abuse. A Sadly Typical Tale.
Sally had known Mark since they were in their early teens, Sally had an unhappy home life, her father was violent and unpredictable and her mother seemed unable to intervene and save Sally from the brutal physical attacks meted out to her by her father. In herself however Sally seemed fine, leaving school with a decent set of qualifications she started work within the civil service and carved out a good career. Her and Mark crossed paths every now and again and they both had romantic relationships with other people.
Mark left school after dropping out of his 'A' levels and went to work in the City as a Blue Button, learning the ropes in the London Stock Exchange.
Sally split up from a serious boyfriend and was feeling a bit sorry for herself. Mark sent her flowers, perfume and more flowers and asked her out to dinner. Over dinner he explained that he had always had feelings for her and said how lovely she was and how he would never hurt her. In time the relationship developed and although Sally suffered with feelings of niggling insecurities she convinced herself the relationship was on track. Mark bought a small flat and Sally saw her escape from the family home, she convinced herself that this was the right thing to do. Everybody said what a lovely couple they made and indeed they certainly were a handsome pair, her tall, willowy and very pretty, him big built, strong and undeniably handsome.
For a while they were happy, Sally threw herself into decorating the flat, thoroughly enjoying being a home-maker, she enjoyed looking after Mark and he seemed pleased to come home to her and a superbly cooked meal.
Still in their very early twenties Sally took voluntary redundancy from her job as Mark was doing extremely well in the City. Mark often asked Sally to marry him but for some reason even she didn't quite understand she kept refusing. Eventually though she said yes and they were married within a week of the proposal. Sally became pregnant and the couple moved into a pretty little house where again Sally revelled in her home-making. Mark was very busy building his career and was often out entertaining clients, the weekends too, were taken up with networking but Sally understood that that was a big part of Mark's job and it didn't cause any problems.
Sally had a baby girl and she was the happiest woman in the world. There were no money worries, Mark was earning a very decent salary and to the outside world everything was looking rosy.
Sally was so taken with the baby that at first she ignored the odd temper tantrum convincing herself that Mark was just tired.
'You've overcooked the chicken, I'm not eating it.' Then throwing a whole plate of food in the bin.
'You stupid cow, you KNOW I like my steak rare!' Then hurling the plate at the wall.
Over time the temper got worse, he didn't hit Sally but before long there was not a door or cupboard in the house that did not have a huge fist mark engraved in it.
Then the personal insults began, 'Look at the state of you, all you have to do all day is sit at home looking after a kid, can't you at least do that and still look half decent?'
'God, I never realised you were so thick.'
'I don't know why I bother working my bloody nuts off just to come home to a screaming kid and a miserable wife.'
Then the depression set in, a common line from Mark during these times was, 'God I am so unlucky.'
This attitude bewildered Sally, how could he be so unhappy? He had a beautiful daughter, a beautiful home and to everyone else, a beautiful wife. She tried to ignore his outbursts, used as she was to the violent mood swings of her father, to anyone else Mark's behaviour would have been intolerable but Mark was very good at confining his bad behaviour behind closed doors. At this stage in the marriage theirs still seemed to be a glorious coupling.To the outside world at least.
Mark spent more and more time in the pub, Sally could not understand why he chose to drink in certain pubs and with certain people with whom he had nothing in common. His mood swings became highly erratic.
Sally fell pregnant again.It was a difficult pregnancy yet Mark offered no empathy simply telling her that 'enough women have to do it, stop complaining.'
Sally started thinking that perhaps the problem was with her but she rationalised that she was only doing her best and she really couldn't think of any way to stop his mood swings that were by now really quite manic. He seemed on top of the world one minute, being generous, loving and fun before spiralling down into total misery and despair.
Sally noticed however that even though he might be violently angry or crying in a misery that if his 'phone rang or someone knocked at the door he would immediately revert back to the 'jolly, all round brilliant bloke' that was his trademark.
Sally busied herself with bringing up her daughters.
There followed years of topsy turvy fortunes. During the 1990's there were a lot of redundancies in the City and no-one was immune to job loss. Mark was out of work at one point for three years. He really was the unluckiest bloke on the planet-according to him; not taking into account that the entire country was in recession.
Fortunes reversed and he went back to work but his mood swings, violent outbursts and insulting behaviour were no longer confined to within the walls of his house. Sally would take calls from his bosses who tried to explain to her that Mark's behaviour was intolerable in an office environment. He took time off work and sat at home with his head in his hands. He didn't help Sally with their children, he never attended a school open evening and found the behaviour of his youngest daughter intolerable. He nagged and belittled Sally at every turn, accusing her of being a bad mother, lazy and a waste of space.
The running and upkeep of the household had always been Sally's responsibility and she was finding it increasingly difficult to keep on top of the finances, Mark lavished his attention and his money on 'friends' outside the home and kept the housekeeping to a bare minimum.
His lack of attention to his appearance was quite startling, he gained a lot of weight, had his hair cut into unsuitable styles and generally let himself go. Despite his unkempt appearance he still demanded sex attention from Sally, sex had long been a wham bam (but no thank-you) mam experience but Sally just put up with it as the consequences of a refusal were too tiresome for her to contemplate.
Sally took on part-time jobs but wondered why as she never saw any increase to the household budget.
When her brother died after suffering with a brain tumour Mark got angry with her for being so distraught and told her she was a stupid cow as she had known that the illness was terminal.
Sally was quite good at just getting on with it although she resented Mark for his constant attention seeking.
As their daughters grew up Sally found herself juggling their interests with the constant demands and put-downs from her husband. Their youngest daughter was a difficult teenager and although Sally found this period difficult Mark found it impossible, constantly flying into violent rages aimed now not only at Sally but their daughter as well. Sally needed to give all of her attention to her daughter, Mark resented this and attempted suicide.
The attempt failed but something inside Sally died. The couple lurched on in the marriage but no one in the house was happy. Mark seemed to be glued into his armchair either snarling at everyone or crying over his misery.
He no longer had any friends, the house seemed to give off a sort of toxicity.
One day Sally and Mark took the car to the shops to buy ingredients for a curry. The car broke down and Mark flew into a furious rage. It was a lovely summery day and Sally suggested that there was maybe a problem with the water in the car and if they left it to cool down they could walk back to it, replace the water and get it home. Mark stood on the pavement incandescent with rage, he had in his hand a huge bunch of keys and while Sally walked ahead he hurled them at her whacking her painfully in her back winding her and causing her to double over in pain.
As she stood upright she caught sight of a young boy walking on the other side of the road and it was the look of sheer horror on the boy's face that, at last, made her realise what a monster her husband had become.
The next day she saw a solicitor and filed for divorce.
Seven years later, Sally lives with her daughters and their dog. Within six months of their divorce Mark moved in with another woman. She is now another victim of narcissistic abuse.
Mark left school after dropping out of his 'A' levels and went to work in the City as a Blue Button, learning the ropes in the London Stock Exchange.
Sally split up from a serious boyfriend and was feeling a bit sorry for herself. Mark sent her flowers, perfume and more flowers and asked her out to dinner. Over dinner he explained that he had always had feelings for her and said how lovely she was and how he would never hurt her. In time the relationship developed and although Sally suffered with feelings of niggling insecurities she convinced herself the relationship was on track. Mark bought a small flat and Sally saw her escape from the family home, she convinced herself that this was the right thing to do. Everybody said what a lovely couple they made and indeed they certainly were a handsome pair, her tall, willowy and very pretty, him big built, strong and undeniably handsome.
For a while they were happy, Sally threw herself into decorating the flat, thoroughly enjoying being a home-maker, she enjoyed looking after Mark and he seemed pleased to come home to her and a superbly cooked meal.
Still in their very early twenties Sally took voluntary redundancy from her job as Mark was doing extremely well in the City. Mark often asked Sally to marry him but for some reason even she didn't quite understand she kept refusing. Eventually though she said yes and they were married within a week of the proposal. Sally became pregnant and the couple moved into a pretty little house where again Sally revelled in her home-making. Mark was very busy building his career and was often out entertaining clients, the weekends too, were taken up with networking but Sally understood that that was a big part of Mark's job and it didn't cause any problems.
Sally had a baby girl and she was the happiest woman in the world. There were no money worries, Mark was earning a very decent salary and to the outside world everything was looking rosy.
Sally was so taken with the baby that at first she ignored the odd temper tantrum convincing herself that Mark was just tired.
'You've overcooked the chicken, I'm not eating it.' Then throwing a whole plate of food in the bin.
'You stupid cow, you KNOW I like my steak rare!' Then hurling the plate at the wall.
Over time the temper got worse, he didn't hit Sally but before long there was not a door or cupboard in the house that did not have a huge fist mark engraved in it.
Then the personal insults began, 'Look at the state of you, all you have to do all day is sit at home looking after a kid, can't you at least do that and still look half decent?'
'God, I never realised you were so thick.'
'I don't know why I bother working my bloody nuts off just to come home to a screaming kid and a miserable wife.'
Then the depression set in, a common line from Mark during these times was, 'God I am so unlucky.'
This attitude bewildered Sally, how could he be so unhappy? He had a beautiful daughter, a beautiful home and to everyone else, a beautiful wife. She tried to ignore his outbursts, used as she was to the violent mood swings of her father, to anyone else Mark's behaviour would have been intolerable but Mark was very good at confining his bad behaviour behind closed doors. At this stage in the marriage theirs still seemed to be a glorious coupling.To the outside world at least.
Mark spent more and more time in the pub, Sally could not understand why he chose to drink in certain pubs and with certain people with whom he had nothing in common. His mood swings became highly erratic.
Sally fell pregnant again.It was a difficult pregnancy yet Mark offered no empathy simply telling her that 'enough women have to do it, stop complaining.'
Sally started thinking that perhaps the problem was with her but she rationalised that she was only doing her best and she really couldn't think of any way to stop his mood swings that were by now really quite manic. He seemed on top of the world one minute, being generous, loving and fun before spiralling down into total misery and despair.
Sally noticed however that even though he might be violently angry or crying in a misery that if his 'phone rang or someone knocked at the door he would immediately revert back to the 'jolly, all round brilliant bloke' that was his trademark.
Sally busied herself with bringing up her daughters.
There followed years of topsy turvy fortunes. During the 1990's there were a lot of redundancies in the City and no-one was immune to job loss. Mark was out of work at one point for three years. He really was the unluckiest bloke on the planet-according to him; not taking into account that the entire country was in recession.
Fortunes reversed and he went back to work but his mood swings, violent outbursts and insulting behaviour were no longer confined to within the walls of his house. Sally would take calls from his bosses who tried to explain to her that Mark's behaviour was intolerable in an office environment. He took time off work and sat at home with his head in his hands. He didn't help Sally with their children, he never attended a school open evening and found the behaviour of his youngest daughter intolerable. He nagged and belittled Sally at every turn, accusing her of being a bad mother, lazy and a waste of space.
The running and upkeep of the household had always been Sally's responsibility and she was finding it increasingly difficult to keep on top of the finances, Mark lavished his attention and his money on 'friends' outside the home and kept the housekeeping to a bare minimum.
His lack of attention to his appearance was quite startling, he gained a lot of weight, had his hair cut into unsuitable styles and generally let himself go. Despite his unkempt appearance he still demanded sex attention from Sally, sex had long been a wham bam (but no thank-you) mam experience but Sally just put up with it as the consequences of a refusal were too tiresome for her to contemplate.
Sally took on part-time jobs but wondered why as she never saw any increase to the household budget.
When her brother died after suffering with a brain tumour Mark got angry with her for being so distraught and told her she was a stupid cow as she had known that the illness was terminal.
Sally was quite good at just getting on with it although she resented Mark for his constant attention seeking.
As their daughters grew up Sally found herself juggling their interests with the constant demands and put-downs from her husband. Their youngest daughter was a difficult teenager and although Sally found this period difficult Mark found it impossible, constantly flying into violent rages aimed now not only at Sally but their daughter as well. Sally needed to give all of her attention to her daughter, Mark resented this and attempted suicide.
The attempt failed but something inside Sally died. The couple lurched on in the marriage but no one in the house was happy. Mark seemed to be glued into his armchair either snarling at everyone or crying over his misery.
He no longer had any friends, the house seemed to give off a sort of toxicity.
One day Sally and Mark took the car to the shops to buy ingredients for a curry. The car broke down and Mark flew into a furious rage. It was a lovely summery day and Sally suggested that there was maybe a problem with the water in the car and if they left it to cool down they could walk back to it, replace the water and get it home. Mark stood on the pavement incandescent with rage, he had in his hand a huge bunch of keys and while Sally walked ahead he hurled them at her whacking her painfully in her back winding her and causing her to double over in pain.
As she stood upright she caught sight of a young boy walking on the other side of the road and it was the look of sheer horror on the boy's face that, at last, made her realise what a monster her husband had become.
The next day she saw a solicitor and filed for divorce.
Seven years later, Sally lives with her daughters and their dog. Within six months of their divorce Mark moved in with another woman. She is now another victim of narcissistic abuse.
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