Breaking with every beat

OH told me this last night. He said “my heart is breaking with every beat…”

I have been in two minds about whether or not to post this all day, but I am hoping it will help for me to put this out there and hopefully means I can pull myself together enough to enjoy the next two weeks.

OH and I are going on a ‘make or break’ trip away to see if we can see a way through all the shit and somehow save our relationship. I wish I could tell you he is a b*$%*&%d and that it will be the best day of my life when we separate and go our separate way, however that is simply not how I feel…

Being with OH has been the best thing that has ever happened to me. I am a better person than I have ever been and the relationship has been more than I ever thought a relationship could be.

He has been massively hurt in the past, and I think he fears commitment. I have told him getting married is not important to me, but the stumbling block is I want kids and he doesn’t.

The Christmas presents and birthday present I have already bought for his big birthday this year, are now hidden away. I don’t know if I will be with him to give them to him on those special days. Our big trip away in December to celebrate his birthday is now up in the air, I’ve booked the time off work, but we never got round to make any finanical commitments so I guess that’s something… maybe something a little telling.

I don’t want to admit it, but I am already preparing to move myself out the house. He is using me wanting more as the excuse for him to go. He says knowing I am sacrificing so much makes him unhappy, I don’t want to make him unhappy so what choice do I have?

We have two weeks away from everything to see if we both want to fight for this enough.

Is love enough to overcome everything? What do you do if it isn’t?



I’m going back

As previously hinted at, but generally skipped over, I have been bullied in the past.

When I came out of Uni I landed my dream job. I was making a difference in working my butt off every day, men in uniforms would often pop into my office and I loved it. However about 6 months in things started to go wrong. Suddenly I was accused of making mistakes that I hadn’t made. Being blamed for things that weren’t my fault. I was repeatedly told, on an almost hourly basis, I wasn’t working hard enough and told that my work colleagues didn’t like me.

Over time this lead to me skipping eating and drinking at work, as my first thought was if I can’t get through everything I need to then I can’t afford to take breaks. Then I started putting in longer hours as despite stopping all breaks I was still being told I wasn’t pulling my weight, I wasn’t good enough. I was so paranoid about making a mistake I would triple check work, and at it’s worst I was accounting for every minute of my day spent in that office.

“8.00 arrive at office, 8.02 – 8.05 computer loads, 8.05 – 8.07 outlook loads….”

I used to dread going into work. I wasn’t sleeping or eating properly, and one day while driving down the A1 I had the thought “if I just turn my wheel slightly I will hit the barrier and then maybe I can have a few weeks off!”

Believe it or not at no point did I realise I was being bullied. I thought it was me, I thought that the problem was me.

The bully was my male boss, who had a daughter my age – go figure. He just kept on and on, after a nice conversation with someone he would come up to me and tell me how much they hated spending time in my company. I went out of my way to make my colleagues like me I baked and brought in cakes, I made tea and coffee whenever someone wanted one and I panicked constantly. For example tea break time “If I stopped to take a break maybe people will get to know and like me, but they think I’m not pulling my weight, and if I stop then I am not working, so then they will hate me more, but if I don’t spend time with them how will they get to know me?” I was a mess.

The thing that really did my head in was that every one was being so lovely to my face. They all came out for my birthday lunch, which I spent months freaking out about holding, but it was an office tradition, they were lovely to my face yet on a near daily basis my boss was telling me no one liked me… they talked about me behind my back… I was letting them down…

Finally I could take it no more, and I went to the union who told me that they thought I was being bullied. The problem wasn’t me, I was shit at my job, it was him. I broke down, I was relieved, upset, emotionally knackered and generally screwed up.

Long story short, I took it to a disciplinary where massive changes were made in relation to the workings of the office I was in, including the boss being moved into a shared office with his senior management. But I was told there was no bullying. Numerous colleagues stood up and stated that I was being bullied – so much for them not liking me – and I have since learnt three of my colleagues have also left due to bullying from this individual but ‘officially’ there was no bullying.

They told me to go back to work, in that office ,with that man.

Three different doctors told me I could never return to that office, for health reasons. So in the end I was left with no option but to hand in my notice. The HR department wouldn’t let me move to another office, despite requests from various people to have me go work for them and so on Christmas eve after 5 years of this shit I walked away from the job I had trained for.

18 months down the line I am in a new job, but my gremlins are still there, and worse they are now starting to affect my life at present, including my relationship with OH. I have made the decision to return to counselling, I had it when this kicked off and they were great but I am not coping any more.

My problem is by going back I can’t help but feel like he, my boss, has won.

This one guy has being significantly responsible for fucking up my life, and yet I would bet he doesn’t even spare me a second thought.


Do I need him to say ‘I love you?’

I was pondering this question this morning while cycling to work, yes despite the fact I had set off late and was killing myself trying to get to work on time I still had time to ponder questions…or should that be worry about stuff?!

Last night I was watching Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason. I have to admit I am a massive Bridget Jones fan and can’t wait for the new book/film (am I right thinking both are coming out?) and I was watching the part where Colin Firth chases Hugh Grant around the fountain and I couldn’t help thinking would OH do that for me and when I asked him if he loved me enough to chase Hugh Grant around a fountain, defending my honor he refused to answer. When I outright asked him if he loved me, he also refused to answer that.

This morning OH announced, as he was walking out the door, that he was taking my car into work to see if he could sort out my tyres for me because they have been leaking and squeaking every time I go around a corner…

The other day I sent him a quick text saying I didn’t feel well and he arrived home with flowers to cheer me up…

He drops my lunch into work if I ever forget it…

When work was flooded he drove past my work every day to make sure I could get home…

Before we lived together, for an entire week, he made a 20 miles detour to pick me up in a morning to take me to work so I didn’t have to drive in the snow…

and on my last drunken night out he drove for an hour to pick me up at 1am in the morning so that I could have a drink with my friends rather than having to stay sober and drive home.

If actions speak louder than words… why do I get so hung up on the need to hear him say ‘I love you?’


One, Two, Three, Four…. I declare a chair war!!

When deciding to live together OH and I took the decision that (for the moment) we will beg, borrow and steal (Ok, we don’t actual steal but you know what I mean) most of the furniture we bring into our house. We are yet to decorate and neither of us saw the point in buying something for the sake of buying it, better borrow or do without now and then buy a piece of furniture when we find the right item and both fall completely in love with it and then have that item dictate the feel of the room, rather than letting budget and time constraints be the over-riding factor.

This attitude has saved us a buck or two as we did very nearly spend an extremely large amount of money, in a very expensive furniture store. We fell in love with a lounge and dinning room set. We oo’d and aaah’d but after much discussion decided to be sensible and wait until we had moved in… I may have sulked a little.

In hindsight this was a brilliant idea. As since the last visit we have managed to at least double the size of our house, there is no way the couch would fit into our house never mind all the matching items we had our eyes on! Anyway I digress.. (yes I can sense your surprise!)

So back to the actual story….My dad contacted me the other day to see if we wanted 4 garden chairs that he had. I immediately said yes knowing how useful they would be. However, I didn’t tell OH about the purchase. Every time I look at something for the house I am usually met with a “we have no room”, “where will that live” “what are you going to throw out, before that comes in my house” response (delete as appropriate, and notice the my house not our house…) so I held off telling him until he was in a good mood, or drunk – you have no idea how much I get away with after he has had a glass or two!

Unfortunately I left waiting for the perfect moment a little too long and was finally told come and get them or I will give them to your sister. So as I was going for tea that night I took the brave (or foolish – you decide) decision that I wanted the chairs and it is my house too so I would bring them home with me… I did share my plan with one of my colleagues who brilliantly suggested that I smuggled said chairs into the house without OHs knowledge and then just pulled them out one day in front of guests claiming we had always had them, and berating his memory – I have to admit I was very tempted!

So I turned up at my dads house for tea and loaded my 4 garden chairs into the back of my car….. the only problem was he also had some folding chairs which a friend of his had dropped round which were no longer wanted. They were so light… and small… and ideal… I just couldn’t help but add those additional 4 chairs to the back of my car as well, well they would make the perfect Christmas chairs!! (yes I forward plan)

It was after dark when I returned home with my now 8 chairs and sneaking the items into the house unnoticed was not an option. So instead I came in as if everything was normal and went to bed. The next morning OH flung open the curtains looked out at my back seat and inquired as to the contents of my boot… I have to admit, to begin with I feigned sleep.

Now a small digression, as OH and I are beginning to live together we are turning into each other, phrases I often say which he hates, he now says and in exchange I have lost some of my willing to please other people and will stand my ground and fight more corner a bit more. Back to story….

So when I decided feigning sleep for the rest of my life may not work as a diversion tactic and opened my eyes OH asked me what was in the back of my car. I very helpfully replied “stuff” and ran to hide in the bathroom 🙂 See I am becoming him … the ‘stuff’ response, not the hiding in the bathroom, he doesn’t do that!

When I came out of the bathroom, and finally got the chairs out the car OH admitted that I am a genius (didn’t actually happen) and I was allowed to keep all of my chairs (did actually happen!)


I have a thing

As discussed in my earlier post the bike ride to work is downhill. The bike ride home however is not, there the last mile or so of the bike ride is one long, continuous up hill pedal.

Now every time I cycle through the idyllic village that I now call home, I can’t help but wonder why, we didn’t closer consider the merits of some of the houses at the bottom of the hill.

As with every village, there are a few characters which you meet. It is very much still a local village, for local people and I have a feeling that even our childrens’ children will be outsiders.

There is the very lovely, very large house which looks like an awful lot of money has been spent on it. The grass outside the front is pristine, I am yet to see a weed in their winding stone drive way… but that could be because the first thing that draws your attention is the very large and very odd collection of plastic birds which they have all over their front garden.

You have the very lovely guy, who I believe is involved with the church, whose front garden turns into Santa’s grotto at Christmas – he has been on the telly and everything. People travel from all over, TV crews visit, and he does it all to raise church funds.

There is a very old, and slightly creep house which reminds me of something out of Wuthering Heights. – I’m yet to see any signs of life from inside it.

As all good villages should have their is the lovely, slightly crazy dog lady (I know, I thought that would be me too!) who has made it her missing to help BD overcome his fear aggression. No matter the time of day or night if she sees us out and about she is there, with her dog, offering to walk with us. Bless her.


OH and I have discussed these various characters we now live among with our family and friends. We regal them with stories about a life in the country. Unfortunately as I was laughing with one of my friends the other day about how I was told of for not answering my door once when someone called round… I think I was out at work but apparently this isn’t a good enough excuse… I suddenly had a horrible dawning realisation…..

As previously mentioned I have just started to cycle to and from work, and a lot of that return journey happens up hill. However, one thing I haven’t yet shared with you is towards the end of the journey, just as I hit the village it starts to feel like my legs are going to fall of and I have taken to expel air, sort of but not quit a grunt, as a way of coping with this pain…

But this noise, I fear means I have become a ‘character’ of the village.

I have a trait…

I have a thing that makes me stand out from all the other people who live in the village…

Ladies and gentleman I am the lady who cycles through the village making sex noises!!

Did you get the reference?

Did you get the reference?