Friendships

Master 10 came home from his mate’s house yesterday afternoon in a “mood”.  He walked through the door on the prowl for a fight.  Eventually his sniping hit a nerve with one (or maybe both?) of his brothers and it was on like Donkey Kong (dude, how old am I?).  Inevitably they got louder and started to get physical and it escalated to the point where Daddy had to step in.  An enraged Master 10 who at this point was now completely unable to get a handle on his outburst and was screeching at the top of his lungs was sent to bed for an hour to calm down and get some much needed sleep.

We all have crappy days where our mood dictates how things unravel but in this case he’d been perfectly fine before heading over to his friend’s to play so the catalyst for his foul mood I suspected lay there.

As it turns out his friend had locked Master 10 outside in the communal area of his apartment building after begrudgingly playing with him briefly.  Master 10 endured the embarrassment of being trapped outside pretty well (all things considered) and once allowed back inside he was forced to watch another child invited to play a game with his friend whilst being told, “Oh no YOUR not getting a turn”.  After all this Master 10 was then told by his friend, “I don’t want you here, go home”.  Naturally he went home feeling very unhappy and the scene with his brothers and Dad isn’t in the least bit surprising.

Generally I’m the kind of parent who listens and tries to get my kid to consider how the situation may have arose.  I sympathise and then suggest maybe his friend was having a bad day.  I ask him if anything happened before it all fell apart?  Maybe Master 10 has upset his friend unknowingly and his friend has gone the passive aggressive route and just been mean instead of telling Master 10 what’s wrong.  I tell him his friend has handled things the wrong way but that all people are different so try not to let it worry you.  Maybe your friend needs some space?  Play with someone different for a while?

I go through the motions making suggestions and reassuring my 10-year-old who has always struggled to hold onto friendships, but deep down it breaks my heart.

It bothers me not just because I see my son’s fragile feelings hurt yet again but also because in a lot of ways it just seems so darn unfair that he’s inherited this inability to make and keep friends from me.

Master 10 is a sweet boy and yes he has his faults (he has a penchant for rough play and being bigger than most kids his age he often accidentally hurts others whilst playing) but the reports from my son and even the occasional cheeky “friend” who comes to tell me why they’re annoyed with my son are always along the lines of, “He’s just so annoying”.  These “annoyances” almost always relate to him being just a little too eager.  This kiddo of mine spots a friend and he dives in head first.  He wants to have them over for sleep over’s, he wants to play with them every lunch hour.  He wants to find out what their favourite books, toys, tv shows are so he can see if they have anything in common or if he can suggest a new book they might enjoy or vice versa.

On the one hand his teacher’s and sadly even myself have suggested that he needs to tone it down and try and fade into the background a little more (don’t make yourself such a target for bully’s) but ultimately as I sit here and mull over it…it makes me ANGRY!

So very ANGRY!

In our society why is it such a crime to be a little over the top, a little too eager to get to know a new friend?  Why is it wrong to want to chat to someone who is your friend, see them often and try and share their interests?  Why is cool and flippant and hoping someone equally cool and flippant sticks by you the right way to do things?  Most importantly, why can’t people just be honest instead of pulling away and leaving the blame on us.

I understand it’s a little too intense for most people.  I’m an adult and I completely get it, but why can’t people just be honest with us?  This kid obviously didn’t want to play yesterday so why not just say so instead of giving Master 10 the run around and slowly killing him a little bit inside?

I think I mentioned a similar scenario last summer when our boys asked another child in the park if they could play football with him.  The kid begrudgingly said yes and then proceeded to refuse to kick the ball to our kids AND what’s worse is the kids Dad intentionally moved the ball away from our boys without saying a word.  How hard is it to say, “Oh actually we’d rather just play by ourselves guys”.  I love the U.K, I love London but the passive aggressive shit drives me up the wall.

How do you explain to children that other kids (and sadly adults) will say one thing to your face but then proceed to act out the complete opposite?

I try and advise my son that it might not be wise to knock for his friend every afternoon to see if he wants to play.  I suggest that sometimes he should wait for his friend to come to him in the playground and at home.  At times he heeds my advice, but often he just can’t resist checking if a friend wants to play.  I constantly feel that he’s having to tone himself down to please others and that just doesn’t sit well with me.

There’s no easy solution to this problem.  Ultimately to fit into society you have to follow the unspoken rules but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

I long for my son to meet someone a little like himself.  Another child that jumps on board and wants to hang out and share interests with my kid.  I hope that when he starts Secondary School in September with a whole new group of kids, things will change.

I managed okay in Primary School, had a few really good friends but dropped the ball in Secondary School and have felt alienated ever since.  Hopefully in Master 10′s case the worst years of alienation are behind him and he’ll finally just “click” with someone.

Being intense can be lonely.  I think ultimately you can make it through with one or two people close to you.  Mitch and I are both a little too intense, it works for us.  If only one of us was obsessed with the other then it would be unbalanced.  Being co-dependent works if both party’s are all in, I know many would argue this point with me but at our current stage in life it works.  As long as no one feels suffocated or neglected and there’s an open line of communication then what’s the harm?

Mitch had similar struggles in Primary School as Master 10 and his coping mechanism in Secondary School was to grow a hard shell and lash out at others before they could lash out at him.  I wouldn’t call him a bully but nor would you have wanted to mess with him in high school.  Whilst I wouldn’t condone it as a “fix”, who am I to judge him when he managed to form friendships that are still going strong today.  I don’t want my sweet open-minded son to turn into an abrupt and closed-off cynic who avoids reaching out to others but my failure to adapt certainly isn’t the right path either.

I think there must be a balance that he’ll learn with age, how to keep yourself open but protected at the same time.  Perhaps I need to socialise him more, get him into more outside school activities so he has a wider group of friends to choose from and won’t cling to the ones he has quite so tightly.

Maybe growing a thicker skin is the only way to be a true part of society, maybe my son will learn a lesson I never quite got the grasp of.  My coping mechanism came in the form of closing myself off from a social life completely for fear of being shunned.  I don’t want that for my children so here’s hoping they will surpass me in their formative years and live happy, socially fulfilled adult lives.

Coping, or rather…not Coping

Since my post about my struggles with addiction, over a month has passed.  I’m not going to lie, I foolishly thought a month and a half would see things having gotten easier.  I was wrong. Very, very wrong.

The only positive is that after writing that post describing my internal sadistic game of whack-a-mole it has been in the forefront of my mind at all times.  I’ve been fighting temptation to fall back on old habits as a coping mechanism.  I haven’t been over eating (though just to compound my feelings of hopelessness, despite eating well I’m still gaining weight…go figure!), I haven’t been drinking too much or self-medicating in any other way.

The self-loathing has ramped up a little.  Mainly on the weight-front.  I don’t think it’s ever been quite this bad before.  I instigated a no-touching below the boobs rule when my weight started creeping back on despite weeks of depriving myself even over Easter!  I’ve been wearing baggy hoodies whenever the coat comes off inside because in my mind I’ve gained 10kg’s not the 1kg it reads on the scales.  I’ve justified this in my mind with the knowledge that I was always this big but foolishly in my mind I viewed myself as smaller than I really was.  I’ve been locking the bathroom door when I shower in our en suite for fear of being sighted uncovered.  I’ve started keeping a toothbrush in the kids bathroom so I can just sneak into bed silently without waking Mitch up by shuffling around in the en suite.

Most days there’s no middle ground.  I’m either silently fighting off the misery that’s tearing me apart inside (holding in the outbursts and tears is physically painful) or I’m feeling completely empty and incapable of any emotion.  There are moody, bitchy outbursts thrown in.  I’m annoyed regardless of what people are saying to me.  Of course after an outburst or dismissal from me I’m so racked with guilt that the cycle begins all over again.

Would you believe that there are times when I wish I was a hopeless drunk?  Not because I  cherish the thought of humiliating myself and harming my family’s emotional state but because AA meetings sound kind of nice.  An anonymous group of people in the same boat as me supporting each other.  No judgement.  A group of people who might not just call me weird and smirk behind my back or even worse just forget me and ignore me.  AA meetings sound nice and safe.

Reality hits though and truth be told even if I was in need of an AA meeting I’d probably never ever build up the courage to walk out the door and attend one.

I can barely bring myself to leave the house anymore.  Thank goodness I have to walk the kids to school during term time.  During Easter break I had grand plans for places I wanted to take the kids whilst they were on holiday.  Every morning I’d wake up, get dressed, eat breakfast hoping today was the day we’d do something the boys would enjoy and remember.  As the minutes ticked by the anxiety would grow bit by bit until suddenly the fear would burn in my chest like a paralysing weight bearing down on me.

With each passing day the guilt festered.  By the end of the holidays the only places we’d gone were thanks to Mitch having some days off work and he took us.

When did I become this sniveling coward all over again?  I’ve been here before though I had very young children back then and family to go and visit to qualm the guilt a little (at least we left the house, right?).

I’m angry at Mitch but have to bury it because it is so completely un-called for.  I’m angry because he’s a functional human being.  The jealousy is painfully debilitating.  He’s healthy and happy, emotionally and physically.  Watching someone enjoying things you know you should enjoy can make you bitter and twisted.

Bitter and twisted.  Dysfunctional and pessimistic.  Fat and lazy.  Moody and impossible to talk to.  A poor example to any child but in particular for children with a pre-disposition to mental illness.  Particularly for an almost 11-year-old who already struggles with self-esteem issues and finds it so difficult to make and keep friends.

Oh children of mine…Do as I say and not as I do?  Feel what the world says you should feel and not what your broken mother feels?

If only they all knew I was so distant and silent this past month not because I’m cranky with any of them but because distant and silent protects my family from the bitterness.  It holds it all in so they don’t have to suffer too.

Easter, Part 2 : Chocolate Eyeballs and Tight-Rope Walking

We had just enough time to digest Good Friday’s free chocolate when Easter Sunday hit and the kids were showered with even more of the good stuff.

Master 6 awoke with a pretty nasty fever on Easter morning, thus the flushed cheeks and glassy eyes.  He was such a trooper and put in a good effort eating a large chunk of his chocolate and managing to collect more eggs in our Easter Egg Hunt than Master 10 (much to Master 10′s horror).  I don’t have any photos of the actual hunt (all video) so instead, here are some weird photos of the kiddo’s waiting for Daddy to hide the eggs downstairs.

…yes that’s a Monkey with chocolate button eyes (lucky bastard, I’d totally trade in one eyeball for a never ending supply of chocolate buttons).

Naturally the hunt took longer than expected and we found ourselves running very late for the highlight of our Easter weekend…

One crazy cab ride and a sprightly jog in heels (what was I thinking?) later and we arrived at Alexandra Palace for The Moscow State Circus.

To be honest it was a little slow going at first and it didn’t really shine until the second half.  Once the second half began though the ooh’s and aah’s abounded.  Yes, the performances that involve a harness can be spectacular, but let’s face it nothing beats the very real danger of watching the tight-rope walkers doing their thang with no net or harness.

Danger = Entertainment.  Sad, but true!

The clowns were actually pretty darn likeable and I have a deeply ingrained distaste for clowns being within a 50 mile radius of me.  These guys weren’t of the creepy variety (no gigantic painted on smile and abnormally large feet).  There was some slightly uncomfortable audience participation involved in their act.  Fortunately for us only ring side seats were at risk of experiencing the special kind of humiliation that comes from playing an instrument with your bottom in front of a live audience.

I think this one goes down as the best circus I’ve been to since I was a child.  I think there will always be a tiny bit of me that misses seeing the elephants (I completely understand why circus’s are no longer allowed to have animals and as an adult I’m sure I’d be disgusted at the mistreatment of those glorious creatures. There’s still a little niggle of nostalgia there though).  It was definitely a fun day out for the grown ups and the kids and that makes The Moscow State Circus a winner for us!

After the circus we decided to wander around the enormous Alexandra Palace park to burn off some energy and take in some much needed fresh air.  The boys raced up and down hills (I declined) and though we didn’t get a proper look at the Palace itself we took in some of the beautiful architecture from a distance whilst waiting for the bus.

Hope you all had a lovely Easter.  What did you get up to on your long weekend?

We’re definitely experiencing some damp April showers here in London over the past few weeks.  I didn’t realise how much I’d been missing some good old English wet weather until it finally arrived and I’m loving it!

Easter, Part 1: Gold Bunnies and Naked Ladies

Image

I’m a little late posting this (oops) but here is how we spent Easter this year.  On Good Friday we munched on the Hot Cross Buns I slaved over the day before (still bitter hot cross buns, but you did taste pretty darn gooood) and then headed over to the Lindt Gold Bunny Hunt down by Tower Bridge (in Potter’s Field).

Free chocolate is one of my very most favourite thing’s!

lindt gold bunny easter egg hunt london

lindt gold bunny easter egg hunt london

lindt gold bunny easter egg hunt london

Technically it wasn’t really a hunt as each child was only allowed to collect 5 items (1 of each type).  Since our kiddo’s are notoriously competitive we gave them their own race amongst themselves.  There were lots of younger children wandering about so it was a walking race.  Master 8 won hands down with Master 10 coming in a close second.

lindt gold bunny easter egg hunt london

They got a bag full of little eggs as they exited the hunt too.  Sadly for some reason I couldn’t pass for an under 12 and didn’t get to compete but they did have a free chocolate sampling for grown ups so I was cool with that.

lindt gold bunny easter egg hunt london

lindt gold bunny easter egg hunt london

To finish off we popped in for the free Easter-themed face-painting.

face painting lindt gold bunny easter egg hunt london

face painting lindt gold bunny easter egg hunt london

The poor girl’s manning the tent had to fend off every boy over the age of 2 insisting he didn’t want to be a bunny or a chicken and in the end we managed to squeeze out of them…a Zombie Bunny

zombie bunny face paint

…a Vampire Bunny

face painting easter

…and a very creepy looking creature with the perfunctory bunny ears drooping beside his eyes.

We walked home to burn off some of the chocolate-induced sugar high…
Master 6 and Master 8 found some naked ladies, apparently they were checking out the penny’s in the fountain below.  I’m slightly skeptical.

london fountain statue

Here’s Master 8 giggling after I mentioned the lovely bottom before him…

Master 5 Becomes Master 6

It started with Heart-Shaped Pancakes…

Love Heart Pancakes

…3 different types of cupcakes at school (yummo, recipe to come!)…

…half his presents with promise of more to come on Saturday and getting to stay up late playing PS3 with Daddy before bed.

Birthday celebrations continued out and about in the sunshine on Saturday with a birthday picnic in the Woodland…

…a girl and boy duck came along too…

After sharing our dinner with the ducks, Master 6 opened more presents.

…and we ended the evening with cake…

…nom nom nom

Addiction

A younger me always assumed addiction was easy to spot.  Addiction seemed like it should always be obviously destructive and visible to those around you.  Addicts reek of booze and slur their speech.  Addicts are pasty white and rail thin with vacant, hungry eyes.  Addicts neglect and abuse their children, forgetting to feed them and hitting them if they get in the way.  Addicts spin out of control quickly and violently.  Addicts are a little bit dirty and sad.  Worthy of our pity but more so we pity the ones around them that’s lives are being destroyed by proximity and no fault of their own.

I was wrong.  Yes the picture I painted in my mind; the stereotype it does exist but addiction can be silent.  Addiction can creep up on you, diminishing joy, altering your quality of life but ever so slightly.  Addiction can be subtle and quietly sinister.  There’s no neon sign above your head pointing your way, flashing your dirty secrets to the world but does that mean you’ve got it all under control?

Once upon a time I thought over eating was my addiction to overcome but when the root of your addiction is low self-esteem and a quiet murmur of depression waxing and waning from a mumble to a resounding crescendo from week to week…tainting your outlook on the world from childhood right through into adulthood, addiction can take any form.

The problem is that if you don’t fix the underlying problem just when you think you’ve squelched one “issue” another one, two or three pops up like a sick and twisted game of whack-a-mole.

I’m much happier now then ever before in my life so maybe some of the fog has cleared.  I have enough perspective to see the problem but can I muster the strength to attack it head on?

I’ve squelched the long running addiction to carbs and sugar (some might shake their head in disgust at putting such a thing in the category of addiction but I snuck around, hiding wrappers, driving around looking for a bin to hide the evidence.  I ate half a packet of some shit and then realised I’d be caught and forced the rest down my throat.  I sobbed stopping at each traffic lights grabbing another handful of food, so full I couldn’t even taste it any more.  I sure as hell felt like I was addicted.  I was using food to try and stop the pain. As a teenager I’d cut myself, eat a load of crap and sometimes throw some of it back up.  Once I had kids I stopped the most destructive behaviour but the over-eating I ramped up to compensate).

Alcohol crept in once we moved abroad.  I was so happy that first year after we had settled down in the U.K and was generally just satisfied with life.  In retrospect it was probably that honeymoon period of everything being shiny, new and exciting.  I was addicted to seeing new things, going places, experiencing a new way of life. It was exhilarating!

During the second year I went through 6 months of drinking quite a lot.  I love the smell of that first glass of red as I pour it from the bottle.  What’s not to love about it?  A pretty bottle to admire and hold onto, a warm aroma second only to a good cup of freshly brewed coffee and a taste that lingers in your mouth for what feels like an age after that first sip.  I love relaxing with a good book or tv show whilst knocking back a glass or two of wine.  At some point during those 6 months I tipped that perfect balance.  The relaxing zing that one glass of wine used to give me could only be achieved with two and then three glasses in one sitting.  It was at that point that I realised that I was treading a dangerous line and decided to stop.

…but that twisted game of whack-a-mole continued…

I decided to go the healthy and natural route.  No I’m not talking a raw food vegan diet, though I wish freshly juiced fruit and veggies gave me that kind of zing.  Some health nuts do also use my chosen relaxation tool with the same belief as me that it’s better for your health than binge drinking.

Once again everything started off lovely.  I kicked the binge drinking’s butt and barely even touched booze except for special occasions.  I’d like to think I have kick arse will power but that’d be a lie.  More likely it’s my short attention span and moving my focus elsewhere made my old crutch seem kinda boring.

This new crutch lasted almost 18 months before it started to spiral.  I always take things too far.  It’s the same reason I can’t eat one row from the block of chocolate. I’ll sneak back again and again until the whole darn thing has been demolished one row at a time.

Addiction, it’s sneaky.  It can take you by surprise.

For months each weekend was enjoyable and though I wished the weekend could last longer than two measly nights I’d make it through the week until the next Friday night without a struggle.

Slowly but surely signs started to appear.  I was starting to crave something to ease the stress on a bad day during the week.  Sometimes I’d give in on a week night and I wasn’t even feeling guilty about it any more.  My de-stressing on the weekends wasn’t as enjoyable as it once was.  What was I doing wrong all of a sudden?  Where was that easy sense of joy that I seeked?

I started to reflect on how life had been before compared with the present.  I discovered that I had stopped finding joy in things that previously had been really rewarding and enjoyable.  I noticed that my highs weren’t as high as they once were (natural or un-natural) and there was just a general haze of what I can only describe as, “meh”.  Not as low as the throws of depression but no spikes of happiness either.

I had a heart to heart with my hubby about it during a long walk one evening and told him that when I wake up the morning after I realise it hasn’t really made me happy.  It used to make all the stress just melt away.  It used to make the inane and only slightly amusing seem hilarious and engaging.  It used to make this long-term melancholic gal feel joy that had seemed out of reach all her life.  I felt like I was reaching for a memory of other fun nights but I wasn’t quite getting there any more.

I took a two-week break.  It was really hard not only to resist but I was also enduring a kind of withdrawal that I totally hadn’t expected.  More than anything it was and is an emotional withdrawal for me.  Everything about me just feels out of whack. Feeling bland and empty inside and not knowing where to turn or how to cope with life.  I think those two weeks were when it really hit me how bad things had gotten.

Then I fell of the wagon.  I gave in and having taken a break it wasn’t a terrible night but still didn’t live up to the early days.  After falling off the wagon that first night I fell hard again a few days later.  I was kicking myself, why do I have no self-control?

On the third relapse I had another heart to heart and it finally occurred to me that not only was it not giving me the happiness I seeked it frighteningly was giving me just a regular, run of the mill “happy” and the rest of the time I felt empty and dull.  Normal was un-achievable without it.  This revelation scared the crap out of me.

So I’ve been fighting to stay strong since then.  It’s hard, oh so very hard.  I feel like an empty shell of a person.  I’m worried what will come next, will I backslide back into food?

I’m a horror to be around lately.  I walk around like the living dead most of the time, always exhausted, snapping when asked a question and ever the eternal pessimist about any given topic.

I’ve never mistreated my kids whilst heading down the path of addiction but I’ve not been the best Mum I could have been and sometimes that’s almost just as bad.

Addiction.  I thought it was obvious, I thought it was always visible.  I stand corrected.