Archive | August 2013

Playing With Fire

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To carry a secret is to play with fire.  Try to pass it on and you risk hurting someone else. But hold on to it and eventually you’ll get burned.

It’s been a few days since I decided that I’d blog. There has been so much crazy stuff going on in my universe and its all just not what I want to put out there for public consumption. I know there are people reading me blog who are sitting there with their fingers crossed just waiting for me to unleash on something or someone.

Right now, I just don’t have it in me.

I’m trying to take my life in a different direction and its very hard to do it publicly when its something that still isn’t sitting comfortably with myself yet. I know there are some who would judge me for it and that is their problem not mine but I also know there are others who would understand and offer me sympathy.

Right now I don’t want sympathy. Or understanding. Not until I have a better understanding of what has transpired myself. And right now I think that is going to take a lot longer than I thought it would originally.

I’ve always been able to come to terms with the decisions I make and the paths I choose to walk down. This path is one I ran away from a long time ago and now I am finding myself drawn back down it. Part of it me is very comfortable with it because I know I do it well. But there is a part of me who needs to hold my cards close to my chest because I don’t feel that the whole world needs to be privy to my thoughts, choices and decisions.

This weekend see’s me back in Bendigo and I am still trying to come to terms with what happened the last time I was here. This time I have managed to stay away from the places that hold the memories. I haven’t even found myself drawn to it. Even though I think about it – if that makes any sense at all.

So I am here. Not more than five minutes drive from the site of the memories and I am fighting the urge to go there and purge myself. It would be pointless because he isn’t there. I could go there and talk to the ghosts the reside there. I could talk to the memories and cleanse myself of the dire confusion I am finding myself in. I could spew out of me all that is going on in my life because I know the ghost would never judge nor never tell – because as they say dead men tell no tales. And as silly as it seems – the ghost would never judge.

I hate having secrets. Especially from my children, my friends and the most important people in my life. I hate not being able to pick up the phone and tell someone “hey, this is what is going on”. I hate not being able to have this decision sit comfortably with myself. I know its something that has to be done and I am finding that I am being left with few other ways to go. I am finding myself backed into a corner and I am about to come out swinging.

Sometimes we find ourselves put into a corner where everything is on the line and this is one of those times for me. There are two choices, throw up my hands in defeat or come out fighting. And I don’t give up, not until I exhaust every option.

NOW I am coming to my last option so the fight is on.

Six months ago I thought I had it all. A fiancé who thinks the sun doesn’t shine in the morning until I get out of bed. A great job. Great friends. And now its all changed. I find myself wondering if I let myself get into this position just because it was easier than saying – NO.

I have someone else in my life right now who I never expected to find there. It’s s strange predicament to find yourself in a relationship with someone who is dark and dangerous (not to me but his job requires him to be that way). And who understands me. Who looks at me and knows what I’m thinking and what way I want to go. What I want to do and where I want to be and who stands patiently behind me and allows me to do it at my own pace.

When I was with Michael, things were hmm micromanaged. He knew where I was, what I did, who I did it with and the exact second that I would be back from doing it. In the beginning I didn’t mind it. I liked it. The fact that I thought that he cared so much for me that he wanted to know my whereabouts. Now I know that wasn’t the case. I am not by any sense saying that he didn’t care. He did. He just didn’t care in the way I thought he did. He still cares now. It’s nothing for him to call me or me to call him and for us to just – talk. He is one of my biggest supporters and the keeper of a part of my heart and my deepest secrets.

This man – who god forbid is not my fiancé but is fast becoming a big part of my world. It’s nothing to go somewhere with him and know that at all times I am safe. My personal self is safe and he will not let anyone near me if I want it that way. I can go somewhere with him and know that if I walk across the room alone, that at all times he has an eye on me and not in a creepy, stalking, controlling way – just in a way that reassures me. That I am not alone.

I’m finding that the things in my relationship with this man are different from David. I can walk into a room with David and be holding his hand and still feel out of place and often unsure and wary of where I am and who is about. With D&D (as I call him) I can walk into a crowded room and feel his hand very lightly on the small of my back guiding me not controlling me and its a very comforting and relaxing way to feel. To stop mid step because you are unsure of where to go and to hear that quiet voice in your ear telling you to just breathe.

To feel safe like that is something that has always been important to me. To know that I can look in one simple direction and meet their eyes and know that the small smile they give me means I am safe from harm. It makes sense to me.

I think that the time is fast approaching where I have to take my engagement ring and end what I have with David. It is unfair to him, to my children, to my friends and to everyone who spends time with us. It’s not that I want anymore from D&D than he gives. Its a comfortable fit with someone who just wants to be with me and for me to be with him. Even if it is to just sit on a bench by a lake and watch ducks swimming. That’s all. David is young. Much younger than I am and he deserves to free to find someone who is more suited to him who doesn’t come with a semi trailer full of baggage. And that’s what I come with.

Right now D&D is across the room from me watching some inane dribble on tv but its comforting that I can sneakily look up from this keyboard and find his eyes meet mine at the same time. Just the smallest nod makes everything that is churning around my stomach disappear and I can breathe again. He doesn’t push me or nag me or coerce me – he just lets me be. Me.

For the first time in so very long I went out for dinner tonight and I don’t think more than ten sentences were exchanged but everything was understood and it was comfortable – if that makes sense to whoever is reading this – because it makes sense to me.

It’s what I need and its what I want. And if its nothing more than what it is now
then I am happy with that. Because its taught me that I’m not as hard to figure out as I thought I was. And its nice to have a relationship in my world that doesn’t need nor want a label.

We played chess today. Nothing major huh? But it was to me because I don’t know how to play chess. But the patience displayed to teach me was relaxing and I laughed, really laughed for the first time in so long. It would probably be easy to understand if I explained that this was an adult size chess board in the middle of a park.

My hand fits in his like its made to be – it all makes sense to me.

Its the little things that sit in the forefront of my mind.

Like how our conversations are the secrets that he keeps, he lets me know he’s here for me and he wants me to see myself the way he see’s me. As amazing.

This is perfect to me and if its true then I need to be let the amazing man who wants marry me go and be free before he gets hurt. Because he deserves more than I am able to give him. Now or later.

This is part of the battle I am fighting at the moment and after re-reading this I know half the battle is won.

I am not in any way, shape or form looking forward to breaking someone’s heart but its best to do it now. He’s not a stupid man. He know’s something is missing in our relationship but he’ll keep fighting for it and I can’t let him do it.

So when I get home tomorrow. I’m going to tell him.

If nothing more comes from my relationship with D&D than a close friend who I can trust with all my heart then I’ll be happy.

I just feel terrible that the heartbreak I felt last time I was in this town is about to be inflicted on someone else.

It’s an impossible situation. Either way there is going to be hurt all around but what we had is gone now.

It’s time to set him free and then maybe I can work on freeing myself and let go of the guilt that I am carrying around.

I feel sick and terrible.

Listen you sinner – I’m sinning to – but just wait until the darkness falls so I can sin with you.

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I Am Freedom, Justice and Love…

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The last twelve months of my life have been absolutely crazy. Insane. Stupid. Moronic. Just out and out a waste of time and energy and that’s time and energy that I can never get back.

So what do I? Should I sit here and go over and over it and think about all the smart comebacks I could have used in the many Facebook wars that I’ve had? Or the insults that I could have fired off at the people who were friends with those I didn’t like? Or better yet, what I should have said to my friends who refused to get involved in the drama and remained neutral in the whole damn thing?

The answer would be none of the above.

Absolutely nothing because it was all a great big, absolute waste of my precious time and energy. It took time away from my training, it took time away from my work and worst of all it took time away from my precious family and from myself. The one person I needed to concentrate on the most – myself. So that I could be the best possible person for my kids and my grandchildren and most of all so that I could be the best possible version of me. For me.

I’ve spent so many years needing to be the person that people wanted me to be. The mother who wouldn’t say the wrong thing for fear of upsetting her daughter so she wouldn’t take my grandkids away. Something that she did anyway. Nice work there LJ.

I’ve spent so long trying to eat the rabbit food that Michael wanted me to eat so that I could be the tiny, skinny size 10 wife that he wanted me to be. And the hours that I spent on the treadmill destroying myself so that I got to be that skinny bitch even faster. Where did that get me? Nowhere except 10 kilos heavier, one husband less and a lot more emotional baggage. Nice work there as well LJ.

When did I become so pleasing? When did I become so compliant and submissive? When did I stop believing in all the things I knew were right and start believing in all the things I knew that were most certainly wrong? Hmmm lets think about that.

I know!

When I started believing in the abuse that was hurled at me by the person who was supposed to have been in love with. You remember him? Michael. I can’t blame this all on him. I allowed him to guilt trip me. I allowed him to convince me that I was too fat for him and that he deserved some tiny little size 10 and I allowed him to shove me away at home and never take me anywhere unless it was to the gym. Because he was going to save me. He was going to tell me what to eat, when to eat it. When to exercise and what to exercise and then he was going to sit there in the living room and watch over me with an eagle eye while I did my cardio twice a day.

He even bought me a treadmill – for christmas.

And I let him do it.

And I was angry and defiant. This man had known me since I was 20 years old. We had always had a connection. For years and years when I had a problem it was him I called and it was him who went behind his then wife’s back to fix things for me. It was him who told me he loved me. And it was me who told him I loved him back and it was me who wanted to be with him.

If only I knew then what I knew now.

I was never going to be good enough.

It wouldn’t have mattered if I became the tiny size 10 with big tits and a tiny ass, I was never, ever going to good enough. He told me that. On a daily basis. He told me that I was a fat, ugly cunt. On a daily basis. That he hated me. Yet when it came down to it and he wanted to get his rocks off, it was me he went to bed with. And then when that was done – he went back to hating me and ignoring me. And then there was his trick of constantly telling me he didn’t believe in love and that if we ever broke up he would never get married again because he didn’t believe in it.

I’m angry now. But not with him.

With me.

I had never been one of those women who needed a man. I had never been one of those women who wanted to be showed off like a trophy. I had always been confident in myself. I may not have liked the fact that I was overweight and wanted to do something about it. But I had never been needy.

So what did I do? Instead of trying harder or training harder or eating better. I sabotaged myself. Or really if you look at it – I sabotaged him and our relationship. When he was gone I ate what I wanted. I ate what he told me I wasn’t allowed to have and I ate lots of it. Realistically if I had of followed the diet (and I hate that word) that he gave me I would have lost the majority of my weight in 18 months. But I didn’t and now almost five years down the track I’ve regained the weight and then some and now I have to start all over again.

I ate chips and chocolate and ice cream and I silently said a big FUCK YOU to him and I snickered and thought “Ha you can’t beat me, what you don’t know won’t hurt you asshole”. Ohhh but he knew, because the scales didn’t lie. And every week at the same time – he made me get on the scales – and oh boy did I hear about it. But it didn’t matter because I would promise him that I’d do better and then when his back was turned I did the same as usual and ate whatever the fuck I wanted.

I guess it doesn’t matter now.

Because we’re not together anymore.

Eventually I got sick of being sad, of being angry, of feeling worthless and of being used and I told him I didn’t want to be with him anymore. I didn’t hate him and I didn’t want to lose him out of my life. I just didn’t want to be tied to him and to have to be abused mentally on a daily basis.

Part of me is angry at him. Because not long after we split up, he put a profile on a dating site and met a woman. He started dating her and at the same time he was dating her, he was sleeping with me. And boy, didn’t the pathetic needy part of me just love that? I was so pathetically needy that one night, while he was in my bed having sex – with me – she called.

And that was when I decided enough was enough.

The very moment the phone rang – he forgot about me. He got up, answered the phone, soothed her pathetic insecurities and then came back to bed and continued to have sex with me. And I let him. Yay go LJ. Smart move that was.

I can’t even continue to go thru the lies he told me. The worst one was when he told me that he loved her and that he had asked her to marry him and she’d said yes. Wait! Rewind a few paragraphs. This was the man who didn’t believe in love and was never going to get married again.

I was an idiot.

And even now I feel like an idiot because I knew deep down inside that after knowing him for so long that as soon as the next best thing came along – he’d make a run for it and he did.

He left Montana and I like we meant nothing.

And the weak, needy, pathetic part of me let it happen and pretended I was happy because I wanted Montana to still have her father in her life – right?

At least that’s what I told myself.

I wanted him still in my life – because part of me thought that if I really did it this time. If I really lost the weight and became a size 10 with great tits he’d love me. But I knew deep down he wouldn’t. He kept me around because I was and still am the keeper of his secrets. Always have been and always would be. I was deluding myself.

Am I angry at him still? Part of me is. Part of me doesn’t care. And I know that more than likely most of you will be thinking what the fuck is she talking about? I’m angry at myself for coming across as a needy pathetic cow.

I try so very hard these days to live a truthful life. I don’t need to be on Facebook and post fake pictures of myself. Because if people can’t be my friend because I’m overweight then that is THEIR problem – not mine. I might not like the outer shell that I see in the mirror but I know the person inside is a good person. She has her faults as does everyone – but basically I’m a good person. I’m an awesome mum, I try to be an awesome friend and I just try and be as real as I can. I learnt the hard way that fake pictures on Facebook and telling everybody how awesome your life is when its really shit gets you nowhere – except stressed and miserable and I’ve spent enough time stressed and miserable.

I know a lot of you can’t for the life of you understand why I forgave Michael for the things he said and did to me over the years. Here is where my confession comes in. Something I have never told anyone. Except for the amazing Emazon.

I lied.

I lied to Michael.

We’d lost contact for a few years and when we came into contact again I lived in Western Australia and Michael was in Victoria. All the feelings we’d built up over the years came to a head and I told him I loved him. It wasn’t a lie. I had always loved him. He told me that he loved me. That he had always known that we would be together, but that he had always wondered why it took me so long to take the chance on us being together.

We made plans. For Montana and I to move from WA to Melbourne to be together as a family. We spent countless hours on the phone and on Skype. We spoke to each other hour upon hour upon hour and we became closer and closer and at that stage I truly believed and I still do to this day believe that Michael loved me.

At the risk of sounding like a bitch – Michael is very looks orientated. He looks good and he wants a barbie doll on his arm that looks just as good. And that wasn’t me. But I didn’t tell him. I let him love me more and more and we continued to make plans for our future. And I worked my ass off with my personal trainer in the hope that I could lose enough weight before it was time for me to leave for Melbourne that Michael would love the woman he thought I was.

It didn’t happen.

Things went awry and the date for me to move to Melbourne to live with Michael came around six months before we had planned. And I panicked. I was nowhere near ready weight wise for Michael to want me. When I left Western Australia I was 115 kilos.

I don’t know what I was thinking.

I was hoping that the love that had grown between us was going to be enough for him to overlook that I was nowhere near the woman that he wanted. It didn’t work that way. I was deluding myself.

He hated me from the moment I stepped off that plane. And that was when our relationship ended. And it was my fault. Before you all start firing poison darts in his direction I will give him some credit. He tried. He tried hard in the beginning to make our relationship work. He gave me a chance to lose the weight. He put all his years of knowledge into me and I still failed. I thought that the love that had grown between us was enough. But I was wrong. It was enough for me. But not for him.

In the end – we hated each other.

It was obvious to our friends who were uncomfortable around us.

It was obvious to the friends who owned the gym where we trained.

It was just obvious to everyone.

Yet I kept trying.

After we had split – things changed between us. Our relationship changed. We actually did things together. We liked each other. We loved each other in a way that made us best friends and allowed our daughter to have a father and a mother who didn’t want to kill each other.

All through this time (where we had split but were still sharing a house) the amazing Emazon, who most of you hear me talk about or who read about on Facebook was in my life. I had been having private 1:1 sessions with her and I can’t even begin to put into words what my sessions with her had opened up in me. But still, there was a part of me that was holding back.

Until I attended her two day workshop. Stand Your Ground 1 & 2.

For me to explain what those sessions did for me would take me forever.

All I know is that it opened up a part of me that I thought was closed forever.

Emma is a very amazing but confronting woman – she allows no bullshit. No blue noise. Just red women with red wings wide open. And most of you will know what I mean about that from my Facebook posts. The more I worked with Emma, the more I realised that I wasn’t in love with Michael. I was in love with the idea of him needing me. And boy was that tying me down.

She gave me the tools I needed to fight the blue noise and to confront the bullshit snow job that Michael was STILL doing on me – even though he was engaged to someone else and so was I.

The conversation went like this:

Michael and LJ in the car on the way to the gym

LJ: I need ten minutes at the end of training to do my meditation. It works for me and I enjoy it.

Michael: (snorts) yeah okay, you believe in your heebie jeebie, mumbo jumbo shit.

LJ: Why, you don’t believe in it? You’ve done martial arts you should know what I mean.

Michael: (mutter mutter mutter under breath) Its bullshit.

LJ: Really? If it’s such bullshit then why is it bothering you so much.

Michael: Speechless.

That was the day I started to see the real Michael. I started to realise that I didn’t need him. That even without him, I would be fine and so would Montana. We were strong, independent red women and we didn’t need anyone but ourselves. And if he couldn’t respect my boundaries then he could just – fuck off.

When my father died, she was invaluable to me and there is nothing I can say or do to thank this woman enough for what she taught me that day. Most of you know I learnt of my fathers death on Facebook. There was nobody there for me except Emma. She made time for me in her crazy schedule to help me through this.

By the time I met with her, my father had died, my family had buried him, had a wake for him and left me out of the whole shebang. I was angry and hurt and a mix of so many emotions I didn’t know where to begin. Even though my father had molested me for many years I still wanted to say goodbye. In the beginning I was determined to go to his funeral and I had security to come with me because I knew there would be a battle between my siblings and I. The day of his funeral I decided not to go. My parents had been married for over 50 years and even though my mother didn’t defend me against my father I knew in my heart of hearts that I had no right to ruin her chance to say a private goodbye to my father. So I stayed away. And texted her as much. I got no response and I never expected one. I felt a bit cowardly afterwards. Almost like I let them keep me away. Especially when I found out that myf family had organised police officers to stop me attending the funeral.

As per normal when I saw Emma, she had me answering my own questions. We talked about my dad, Michael, life in general and how she had been waiting for the longest time to see red wings in my eyes and how she didn’t want me to let them close.

And she made me see just what is the title of this blog post.

Freedom – I was freedom because I didn’t allow myself to get caught up in all that was going on around me.

Justice – Because I was taking action against my family wasting police resources by stopping me from attending the funeral of my father.

And most of all

Love – Because I showed my mother unconditional love by allowing her to say goodbye in peace.

The reason I even posted this tonight was because I was angry at myself for keeping so much hidden and secretive. Because I wasn’t being honest with myself or my friends about situations in my life and because I was so tired of leaving Michael (who today is one of my closest and most trusted friends) to take the blame for something that wasn’t all his fault.

While we’re on the subject of the truth. I keep getting questions from friends asking me when the wedding is going to be. It isn’t. Not for a long while. I am still dealing with other baggage from other parts of my life to start a new life with someone that is cluttered. We are still together. I still wear my ring but for now – I live at home with my beautiful daughter and he has his place and we spend a few nights together a week. For now? That is all I am able to truthfully give without feeling resentful or guilty.

I’ve always lived my life in public. Especially with my old blog. This time I am taking less chances and sharing only that which I feel comfortable with. I’m happy not being the centre of attention. I have made friends with people who were once enemies. I’ve forgiven those who have done wrong by me and I have forgiven myself for the wrong I have done them as well. I’m happy just being Lisa.

I have recently made up with a very dear friend who lives in the US. When I was going through my selfish, woe is me, I am the Queen of the world phase I gave her an ultimatum and it didn’t work and for the last few years we haven’t talked. The other day I took a chance and reached out to her. At first she politely replied that she was busy with life and had no time to devote to fixing our friendship. The selfish Lisa would have lost the plot. THIS Lisa understood and simply told her so and that I wished her well. Somewhere, somehow, someone is looking out for me because later that day I had a friend request from her and we are slowly starting to talk. So Deb, thank you for accepting my apology and I look forward to building a new friendship with you.

When I looked at the title of this blog I knew that I couldn’t leave it as it was until I had unburdened myself of the truth of the situation with Michael. To be freedom, justice and love I have to let it all go. And with this post I have.

That doesn’t mean I am removing any guilt or wrong doing on his part. It just means I am explaining what he was up against and WHY we didn’t work.

I have an amazing father for my little girl. A best friend who now understands and accepts my beliefs regarding the Emazon World and I am surrounded by awesome friends who I may not speak to every day, who I might piss off every now and again but who still love me and I am looking in the mirror and realising that when the day comes that I am ready to make the changes I need to then I will know.

And I’m pretty sure its going to happen soon.

As it says: I am Freedom, Justice and Love.

And I’m very lucky.

This entry was posted on August 5, 2013. 2 Comments