It has been ages since I last blogged.

A few months JW lost everything and moved in with his sister. She will only allow him to stay with her if he doesn’t drink. Once again the halcyon days started. I even began to look forward to the supervised visits where he saw Jesse. Over time our social lives began merging again, not surprising as we both enjoy the same thing and share a large group of friends.

Last month I had a  devastating cancer scare. I didn’t want anyone to know and so roped JW into the cover up (you are not allowed to drive yourself after an operation). He was an absolute rock of support.

JW has also managed to get himself a good job as a project manager with a large construction company where he is doing very well. He was even talking about providing some financial support to cover Jesse’s schooling.

On Saturdays I go to the local food market. It is a wonderful space where I meet up with a lot of interesting, single 40 something year old people who I knew 20 years ago. We sit at long tables in the sun and sample delicious foods and drink amazing wines.

Unfortunately JW also discovered the market and started coming around. I didn’t mind too much because he was back to his old self, but it did rather cramp my style. Because we were getting on so well, he wants to try again, so despite that fact that he has no interest in food, attends the market to try and engage with me around my interests. I have decided that I do not want to go back there, but would like to make the best of a bad situation and retain the friendship.

Last Saturday I was there again, sitting with fabulous friends. We were drinking wine when I suddenly felt that light headed. I didn’t want to drive with Jesse in the car with me. JW was sober so I left Jesse with him and went home to lie down. When I  got back, JW had completely fallen off the wagon and was raging drunk. He would not let me take Jesse home. The market had finished and I was left negotiating with this drunk alone in the car park.

He became verbally abusive and then suddenly JW started hitting me. He knocked me to the ground several times and beat me around my head with his shoe. I managed to get away when Jesse threw his little 7 year old body on top of me to protect me.

I am so sad because I know now that there is nothing to salvage, not even what could have been a great friendship. I have curtailed my social life and  will no longer be going to the market. Jesse will only see his father over coffee for an hour a week instead of through a lazy Sunday afternoon. Chances are also good that I will no longer be able to maintain my friendships with his family.

I am not angry, just devastatingly miserable at  choices not available to me, no matter how hard I try. He has never hit me before, but now that mark has been overstepped. It’s time to lock that door on my past and devise a completely new future for Jesse and I.

So I went on my first date in two years since I left JW.

He  is a very nice man that I met on Facebook. I took a chance on meeting him because he grew up in the same area as me, went to a “brother” high school and generally has the same demographics and culture as I do. We’ve been chatting through posts for ages now and have many friends in common.

He is a very successful and talented artist who studied philosophy and he can hold an interesting conversation, knows about art and reads widely. It is such a pity that although his mind is a philharmonic orchestra, the spark between us was the metaphorical equivalent of a triangle (you know the instrument that they give the most unmusical child at school so she doesn’t feel left out in music class).

I suppose that at least I have added another marvellous friend to my increasing circle of interesting, real people, but it would have been nice if it had been more of a date. Unfortunately, history tells me that I prefer bad boys and I am not going there again.

Last night I went to a birthday party. I went equipped with my small talk conversation starters. “How do you know Vanessa?”, “So which rugby team do you think will win today?” etc. Unfortunately all the people were either at least twenty years older or younger than me. The only person who was my age was JW, who had been roped in to do the music and I wound up chatting to him.

We talked about music and movies “Have you seen The Legends of the Guardians?”,”So what do you think of the latest Parlotones song?”.

Inevitably, he turned the conversation to how lonely he is and before long he was crying again. He doesn’t understand that we can’t go back to the undoubtedly good times we had.

I was a different person then and my motivations have changed. I need quality of life now, to engage my brain and to focus on bringing  Jesse up to be a well rounded human being, not insecurity, empty excitement, tatty discourses and late night parties.

I have found the emotional space and serenity to engage cognitively with a world of my own making. I want to surround us with successful, interesting people, have constructive conversations and explore exciting ideas. I don’t want to talk about how badly people injured themselves doing extreme sports, how close he got to capsizing the boat, share sick, scatological jokes or discuss who got the drunkest last weekend.

JW doesn’t build, he harks back to past times and tries to recreate them. He thinks it would be a good idea for us to sleep together again, because we were so good. He’s trying the recapture the depth of love and happiness we had, but I am in a different space where there will be new joys and memories.

He tried to kiss me in the car park when I left early. Then he dropped a clunker, “use it before you lose it”. Is that the new pick up line in your forties?

There are some times when it would be nice to borrow the old feelings and experiences, but I know that I am not emotionally equipped to go back there, no matter how tempting. I have spent too much time healing and moving forward. Just because I haven’t finished my journey doesn’t mean I am not going to.

The lady sticks to me like white on rice.
She never cooks the same way twice.
Maybe it’s the mushrooms. Maybe the tomatoes.
I can’t reveal her name but Eggplant is her game.

When my baby cooks her Eggplant,
She don’t read no book.
She’s got a Giocanna kinda of dirty look

And my baby cooks her Eggplant,
Bout 19 different ways.
Sometimes I just have it raw with Mayonnaise. – Michael Franks

An old friend made a pass at me last night, suggesting that I would regret opportunities not taken when I get older.

I have never done casual sex. To me it would be like eating a cheap burger patty rather than a delicious, nutritious steak tartar. I prefer the condiments of sparkly conversation, laughter, friendship and wit.

I am afraid that I would feel like I have just had a take away, full of MSG and empty calories.

Of course it might also have something to do with my lack of confidence in serving this forty something year old body up on a platter.

When my smile fades

I wanna remember this day.

Passion killed by the comfort of time

I’m sorry if this makes you cry,

but I have to speak my mind.

Suck the colours from my eyes

When they lose their sparkle and forget to shine.

Don’t stop, don’t stop.

Nothing lasts forever soon we will be sober.

So let’s laugh, talk, tickle and taste

Till the stars fall down.

Embrace my reflection for a little while

For if I am to love I must try love myself

Cuddle with a cold corpse like frame.

I’m sorry if my view of matrimony seems obscure,

where’s the fuel?

Don’t stop, don’t stop,

Nothing lasts forever soon we will be sober,

illuminated by the blood red sigh.

Let’s rather lament on this starlight event

Dance, dance, dance naked under starlight

There’s something about this glow

That flows just right

Let’s make tonight last forget about the past.

So let’s laugh, talk, tickle and taste

Till the star fall down.

Don’t stop, don’t stop,

Nothing lasts forever soon we will be sober,

illuminated by the blood red sigh.

Let’s fantasise before the real world comes

Crashing and colliding like lightning’s angry temperament

Bubbling teenage love time will soon be up

Don’t stop, don’t stop,

Nothing lasts forever soon we will be sober.

Trace my face wile it’s a happy face

When my smile fades and I’m old and grey

All I’ll have are these moments to retrace.

Parlotones

Today we interred my Dad, I can’t sleep.

I keep ruminating.

So many bleugh days filled with little happinesses. These are the memories I am creating for Jesse.

I suddenly realised that I can’t go backwards. I keep revisiting what I had, looking for artefacts that I can take with me. There are so few, but the ones I leave behind have determined who I am now. I think that I may be missing what I wanted, rather than what I had.

My feedback from the world is that I am closed and remote. I feel warm and need to figure out how to start conversations.

JW invited me to a quiz evening tonight with friends of ours. We were appalling, coming third out of four teams, we used to be so good. Afterwards he got all maudlin about his life and losing me; funny how the alcohol brings that out in him; ironic how that is the reason that he is where he is. I have realised that he doesn’t have fortitude. I have always focused on his strengths, his wit and intelligence, I didn’t recognise until now that he is not brave enough to face a life of his own creation.

It’s got to be perfect

It’s got to be worth it.
Too many people take second best

But I won’t take anything less
It’s got to be pertect.

Young hearts are foolish
they make such mistakes

They’re much too eager to give their love away.
Well I have been foolish too many times

Now I’m determined I’m gonna get it right.

It’s got to be perfect

Young hearts are foolish
they make such mistakes

It’s got to be worth it
it’s got to be perfect.

- Fairground Attraction

I went to the most fabulous party last night and got home in the wee hours.

Patricia, Theunis’ ex wife has married an amazing man and he threw her a birthday bash. I didn’t know anyone except the happy couple, but it didn’t seem to matter. I mingled and laughed with total strangers in a social context. I’m comfortable networking for business because then I know what I know, but I am out of my depth in non-work environments, my tolerance for small talk and ability to keep a conversation going, needs work.

Last night, I found myself surrounded by successful English speaking people and didn’t struggle once. I’m sure its got something to do with cultural homogeneity. Perhaps my social inadequacies have more to do with trying to adapt to JW’s Afrikaans speaking world than I realise.

Two week ends ago I attended an equally successful party with the same results. I will keep looking to improve my social skills, but perhaps I need to look at the circles I mix in too.

From my head down to my feet,

My hands are sweating so bad

And I can barely speak.

Read between the lines here

Don’t know what to think,

It’s a guessing game…

Was it the face?

Was it the moves?

Was it the way that she just knew me?

Was it the meaning behind every smile

I Try to walk, but can’t leave

Her eyes, they pierce right through me

But I don’t care

As long as I am here

My head’s a mess

But at the same time clearer,

And I’m feeling so content

But unsure, Reaching out, reaching in,

Wish I knew what you were dreaming,

And I never want to ever let this go.

As long as I’m here – Prime Circle

I have now shed 24 kgs and look like a different person. How shallow the world is, engaging with me much more enthusiastically now. People who ignored me two years ago are suddenly going out of their way to be seen to know me, including my soon to be ex and old work colleagues. I know that it has also got a lot to do with my recent success, but more I think, because my legs have come out to play.

I am reinventing myself physically. Last time I weighed this, I was fifteen years younger and in a different space. Now I have to keep asking what does a modern forty something year old wear? Gone is the basic black that hid a multitude of sins. It’s now summer, what do I want to portray?

For years summer has meant the same winter wardrobe without the jerseys and socks. Now I have to decide who I am. I have choices, do I want to be casually elegant, funky (probably not), corporate, stylish, sexy? When I buy something I have to ask “mutton? lamb?”. This is the first summer in my new body, I can see what I don’t want to wear, but finding what I want to present to the world is proving to be harder than I imagined.

I can’t pretend
That nothings changed
Living in the shadows
Of the love we made

Back… When we were beautiful
Before the world got small
Before we knew it all
Back… When we were innocent
I wonder where it went
Let’s go back and find it

Some dreams live
Some will die
But the you and me
Is still alive

Now am I blessed?
Or am I cursed?
Cause the way we are
Aint the way we were.

- Bon Jovi

I went around to JW’s place to drop Jesse off to see his daddy. My sister came with me to collect a piece of my Dad’s furniture that she had changed her mind about.

JW’s house looks resplendent with all my furniture, artworks and mirrors hung up on the walls. This is the very same décor which he promised to give back in exchange for my Dad’s stuff. When I asked for it he said “no”, the only agreement was that I could have one mirror and that I owed him my beautiful things because I had sold the house from underneath him.

Our family doesn’t do conflict very well and Sarah just disappeared when he turned his vitriol on me.

JW’s seventeen year old son had organised a camp out for ten of his friends in the gardens of the farmhouse where JW lives. I decided that it would probably not be a good idea to leave Jessie under JW’s care while he was supervising a bunch of drunk, horny teenagers, so I stayed for a glass of wine while he played and swam in the pool.

JW’s first wife and the large, self righteous mother of my stepson dropped him off. She had the obligatory fight with her ex about how he doesn’t do anything, guaranteed to set him off into his own self righteous diatribe.

During the afternoon JW coiffed copious glasses of Gin and Tonic, savouring the lemons from a tree which grows in his garden, while other people’s adolescents disappeared behind trees.

I’ve lost 23 kgs now, but it didn’t stop JW telling me that I should be exercising more.

I get on very well with my stepson and feel sorry for him having to make sense of life with the two examples of parenting that he has. JW had not provided any food, I gave Josh some money to host his guests.

JW confessed to me that he couldn’t get hold of Maggy, that she was depressed and that he was worried that she might have taken some pills. So there I was, the only sober and sane adult, trying to keep a light touch supervision over the kids, while he frantically phoned Maggy’s parents, brother and landlord to get someone to check that she was OK.

I am trying to do the right thing by facilitating a relationship between Jesse and the wonderful side of his father, but unfortunately those rules don’t count in the world of an addict. He just keeps taking advantage of my value system.

As the sun set, Maggy SMS’d him to say that she had not topped herself and I packed Jesse up and extracted him from the insane world of alcohol and beautiful things that we have escaped.

I don’t need your sympathy
There’s nothing you can say or do for me
And I don’t want a miracle
You’ll never change for no one

I hear your reasons why
Where did you sleep last night?
And was she worth it, was she worth it?

‘Cos I’m strong enough
To live without you
Strong enough and I quit crying
Long enough now I’m strong enough
To know you gotta go

There’s no more to say
So save your breath
And then walk away
No matter what I hear you say
I’m strong enough to know you gotta go

So you feel misunderstood
Baby, have I got news for you
On being used, I could write a book
You don’t wanna hear about it

I’ve been losing sleep
You’ve been going cheap
She ain’t worth half of me it’s true
I’m telling you

Now I’m strong enough to live without you
Strong enough and I quit crying
Long enough now I’m strong enough
To know you gotta go

Come hell or waters high
You’ll never see me cry
This is our last goodbye, it’s true

I’m telling you
That I’m strong enough to live without you
Strong enough and I quit crying
Long enough now I’m strong enough
To know you gotta go

There’s no more to say
So save your breath
And you walk away
No matter what I hear you say
I’m strong enough to know you gotta go – Cher

JW has started calling again, inviting me for drinks or to parties at mutual friends houses. On Saturday he phoned at eleven o’clock at night, multiple sheets to the wind and begged me to come over because there were people who wanted to see me. No thank you, that is what I walked away from. The next morning, he phoned again, some what more sober, but still at the party, saying that everybody wanted to see me again. I took a chance, going there to see old friends that I hadn’t seen in years. When I got there, everyone was slaughtered and they tried to persuade me to drink Brandy and Coke at ten o’ clock in the morning! This is the cream of the Afrikaans economic crop, lawyers, doctors etc. all drunk and furry in the morning light. I had one cup of coffee and no conversation, before taking my leave. JW burst into tears in front of our friends.

I think that Maggy is still on the scene and the irony of JW sneaking around and trying to start an affair with his (soon to be ex) wife and hiding the fact from his mistress (which technically she is), has not escaped me.

Last night he called, sober, to ask me whether I would consider joining him and Jesse for a braai at his house today. Against my better judgement I agreed. He has just phoned me this morning, drunk as a skunk, to make arrangements!

At work I have employed someone to help me and make my life easier. He picks up all the slack, organises my life and focuses on keeping me happy. That was all JW had to do. Why does he think that regressing into the destructive alcoholic behaviour will work this time around?

When I marry again, we will look after each other, not necessarily financially, but we will care about each other’s happiness, I want some one with whom I can rise to the challenges the world throws at us.

Every step I’m taking
Every move I make feels
Lost with no direction
My faith is shaking

But I gotta keep trying
Gotta keep my head held high

There’s always gonna be another mountain
I’m always gonna wanna make it move
Always gonna be a uphill battle
Sometimes I’m gonna have to lose

Ain’t about how fast I get there
Ain’t about what’s waiting on the other side
It’s the climb

The struggles I’m facing
The chances I’m taking
Sometimes might knock me down
But no, I’m not breaking

I may not know it
But these are the moments that
I’m gonna remember most, yeah
Just gotta keep going

And I, I got to be strong
Just keep pushing on – Miley Cirus

I seem to be surrounded by so many people who bad things have happened to. Friends who have, up until now, been successful, reached the top of their careers, had happy marriages and brought up emotionally balanced children. Now suddenly life has delivered them a blow from which they don’t seem to be able to recover. Some of them are getting divorced, others have lost their livelihoods through retrenchment. The economic climate is also exacerbating their misfortune.

Looking at them, the ones who are doing better are those with financial security. It seems that loss of income is compounded by demanding creditors who constantly phone and do not understand that you are trying everything you can think of. They feel like failures because no matter what they do nothing works and they allow the world to undermine their sense of self. This is compounded by the fact that they are older than the first time they had to start again.

On a personal level, being single in a couples’ world means that you are viewed with suspicion by married people on the social scene.

Picking yourself up from personal tragedy takes a positive mindset which is eroded by the outside world which doesn’t tolerate what it considers to be failure or dis-ingenuousness on your part. It also takes the recognition that bad things come from the outside, but it is only by concentrating on what is inside you that you will survive.

Many people seem to have got where they are through luck, being in the right place at the right time, and they credit themselves with success. When your world shifts on its axis, all you can do is position yourself so that you are exposed to as many opportunities as possible and ensure that you are able to take up on them when they come.

This has worked for me in my business, I have dedicated myself to learning more, building a brand on vapourware sometimes, networking, surrounding myself with successful people and generally staying positive on the outside. It is part of the reason why I had to leave JW, he kept siding with the outside world and exposing me to it through alcohol, rather than fighting it with me.

I am trying to do the same thing in my personal life, making sure that I initiate friendships and social activities. I’m working on healing myself, losing the emotional baggage, learning those socialisation skills which generally elude me and focusing on the art of small talk. It isn’t working as well as my business has, but I have met some very interesting people along the way.