Archive | April, 2014

Another life lesson from Grey’s Anatomy

30 Apr


Christina to Meredith, “Your life looks different because it’s filled with houses and husbands and kids, and mine looks the same. But I’m doing this alone. And that’s just as hard.”

I’d rather be Christina anyway.

Getting my life in gear

30 Apr


Right then, buddies.

I am getting my fat ass in gear. Actually, my ass isn’t that fat. It’s the rest of me that is the problem.

I felt a bit clearer this morning after cutting the chord of LinkedIn yesterday. I know I’ll start crying soon. I know I’ll still cry myself to sleep at night. But this morning, well, this morning I felt pretty awesome.

So here are some wise words from my buddy Kate, “If you can’t control meeting someone, concentrate on what you can control.”

She’s a wise one.

Today I have booked an Italian course to start in July. Booked a yoga course to start as soon as I get back from holiday. Booked a weekend in Edinburgh with my buddies. I’m booking myself a first-class ticket back into life.

If I stop for even a moment to dwell on everything I’m missing in life, I completely dissolve.

But if I look at everything I’ve done, and think about everything I have planned, I feel genuinely ants-in-my-pants excited.

Maybe it’s just the extra large coffee I had this morning.

Or the fact I’m going to sunny Florida on Saturday.

Or maybe it’s the knowledge that he can’t hurt me anymore.

F*** him.

Breaking the connections

29 Apr


My keys arrived this morning. Sent from the ex in a package addressed to a friend at work (as requested). Wrapped in tissue. No note. He had already told my friend who was good enough to email and organise the whole thing that he wasn’t putting in a note as he assumed I didn’t want any communication. I wouldn’t have minded a note. I’d have liked an apology.

But the main thing is, I have my keys back.

Just as I was breathing a sigh of relief, I logged onto LinkedIn and saw an update of him connecting with some blonde lawyer girl. My stomach lurched. Clearly this was his new girlfriend. There could be no other explanation, right?

Craziness set in as I came over all Nev from Catfish googling the poor girl on every social network. Turns out she’s married to someone else, so not his girlfriend.

I took this as a sign. It’s time to step back from being mental. I deleted him as a contact on LinkedIn.

There is nothing left connecting us. Nothing at all.

Except the memory of the happiest time in my life. And the pictures in my head of him, our walks in the park, his family, his friends, drinking negronis, kissing (lots), waking up together, blurry Sunday mornings in bed, and that safe, warm feeling of being totally besotted with my life.

And the horrible realisation that is was all fake.


28 Apr

I love gossip.

There’s something about my brain. It’s just wired a certain way which means it’s fascinated with the lives of others. Hence my love affair with Teen Mom and everything else MTV has to offer me. Hence my utter devastation when I realised that The Hills was not real. Hence my excitement re people who I work with getting it on.

I’ve had my fair share of office romances over the years. Well, two to be precise. Right now I have to work with a client who I dated seven years ago. That ain’t much fun either. But the gossip I heard today about some of my colleagues is absolutely scandalous. And not exactly romantical either. The kind of scandal that I would just never create on my own. I mean, I can’t hold my drink anyway. But even if I downed a brewery full of beer, there are certain things I’m simply not capable of.

Like the thing I heard about today.


Yes, there are occasions when I see through the breakup fog and get a glimpse into the lives of others. And think, “Holy f***. I’m glad that’s not me.”


27 Apr

I’m lonely.

Let’s face it. I shouldn’t still feel this rough nine months after the pizza of doom. If I had someone else in my life I probably wouldn’t. I jump at every whatsapp or text.

I’m watching Grey’s Anatomy and Arizona seems to be sleeping with Leah now. I’m pretty sure Leah has some twisted ulterior motives (probably to get in on a really good paeds surgery). Please – no spoilers. But the point is, Arizona is lonely. Leah is a comfort to her. I have a feeling it is all going to end horribly, but isn’t it funny what loneliness can do to people?

I’d like some comfort. I’d like to go to bed hearing someone else breathing beside me. I’d like to wake up and say good morning to someone. I’d like to think that if I died in my sleep it would take less than a month for the body to be found. When Irish Two and I were doing our thing, although I regularly punched him in my sleep, I loved sharing a bed with someone. Even now, I hang on his every whatsapp message. I’m desperate to feel that connection.

Apparently, when people are involved in a romantic relationship, their heartbeats sync when they sleep.

My heart has nothing. My heart has no-one.


Keeping the faith

26 Apr


For the past week I’ve been telling myself, “You’re never going to meet anyone or get married or have kids or be loved at all, really, so just deal with it. Make your peace with it. And try and find something else to make you happy.”

I tell you what, it’s a tough pill to swallow.

I think I’ve cried even more than usual this week while repeating this jaunty little mantra in my head.

Well, today I went to see my psychic. I’ve decided to see her three times a year (once every four months). I first saw her the week after the pizza of doom, then just before Christmas. So far she’s been pretty accurate. More importantly, she’s made me happy. OK, happier. For a little while.

As usual, today she knew exactly how I felt. That while my life isn’t bad, it feels like there’s no point to it, no connection to anything, no reason, nothing good. And certainly nothing to look forward to.

Well, she looked at my tea leaves and suddenly exclaimed, “Oh my, I love this antique bath you’re going to buy. It’s a roll top.”

That alone is something to look forward to. I love taking baths.

But there was more.

Two kids. First a boy, then she wasn’t sure whether boy or girl. A man who loves me. A fat cat or small dog (again, hard for her to decipher). She told me with confidence she could, “100% guarantee this is going to happen.” And – to be fair – her prediction has been pretty much identical every time I’ve seen her. The bath was a new addition, mind you.

There were a few too many tarot cards showing swords for my liking. Specifically, swords sticking through a heart and swords sticking into someone’s back. But I guess that does sum up the way I feel at the moment. How disappointed I am with my life. How conned I feel by everything.

She said I need to believe and I need to visualise this happy family that she’s predicted. And that I have a female spirit looking after me who wanted me to see that today. I don’t want to get all paranormal with you, but I wonder if that’s my Nonna who passed away when I was 15.

And books. I’m going to write books.

And ride horses.

And bake cakes.

These are all my favourite things in the world. Ever.

So do I keep the faith and believe this is all going to come true? Or do I try and protect myself by telling myself that it won’t?

Apparently this man (the hot piece of ass who’s going to turn out to be the love of my life) is a water sign. She tells me this every time I see her.

My ex was right on the cusp of being a water sign. I suppose if today was about looking to the future then I shouldn’t dwell on that point.

The darkest moments

25 Apr

I’m sat at my desk trying to finish copy that was due hours (well, to be more precise days) ago. I just can’t get my head around it.

Today my lovely friend Kate did me a great favour and emailed the ex. She asked him to send my keys back.

He responded to her. He posted the keys. He said he hoped that I was well. He thanked her for supporting me (what a weird thing to say?).

I’m just adrift with emotions. Part of me is relieved. I’m really trying to think of this as the pulling off of the final plaster. I’m free now. Once I get those keys in my paw, I never have to think about him again.

But I think we all know that it’s just not that easy. The pain is with me every day. The injustice of it all still taunts me. And maybe life just isn’t fair, but it’s a crushing realisation. It hurts. It worries me. It makes me so mad.

I’ve changed a lot in the past nine months. I’m not the person who I used to be. I don’t feel things the way that I used to. I don’t think the way that I used to.

So, if I’m not the same person, why does it feel like I’m going through the same break up all over again?

In my darker moments I hope he’s miserable. I hope he feels like utter sh** this afternoon, and that it rained on him when he went to the post office. And that his shoes got wet. And maybe a dog bit him.

In my darkest moments, I wish I could disappear altogether.

Tube stop of doom

24 Apr


I went to a friend from my old work’s leaving drinks tonight. Just before I left my last job, we moved offices. Right across London. I didn’t spend long in the new office. And most of the time I did spend there I was rocking back and forth in tears post pizza of doom.

So heading back to West London tonight and jumping off the tube at Marble Arch station brought back a few memories of that horrific month. I felt so drained that I couldn’t face the tube back then. I used to take a very long bus ride to get home. And cry the whole way. Listening to Taylor Swift. Yeeesh.

So how did I feel being back there?

Honestly, like the whole thing was a dream. Or maybe a nightmare. The past nine months are a blur. I have no idea how I got here.

But I’d rather be here than back there.

The crazy hours

23 Apr


I love coming home from work in the evenings. I love kicking my shoes off, putting on pyjamas, microwaving a kids’ meal, and spending quality time with my TV.

I look forward to it all day.

And yet, these are my crazy hours.

Because when everything else stops, the bit of my brain obsessed with the ex and my absolute terror re being alone forever wakes up.

And taunts me.

So every night I go to bed and find my pillow soaked from tears as I’m falling asleep. But when I wake up in the morning I don’t want to go to work at get all busy and distracted. I want to lie in my bed. It’s so comfy. Mmmm.

I go to work, and count the hours until I can go home and relax. Yet it’s not unusual for me to get home, put my key in the door, and start crying before I even get into the building.

I don’t have a point tonight or even a message.

I think I’m just a bit nuts.

But it’s been a hell of a nine months.

Aren’t I entitled to be crazy?

Life lessons from Grey’s Anatomy

22 Apr


I found myself with no MTV favourites stored on my Sky box tonight. So I decided to tuck in to season 10 of Grey’s Anatomy.

Ahhhh, Grey’s. We’ve been through so much together.

If there’s one thing I have learned from Meredith and friends (including George, Lexi and Mark – God rest their souls), it’s that the tough times in life make you who you are. The traumas. The unexpected. The bombs, plane crashes, and crazy ass snipers. It’s how we respond in those situations that marks out the kind of people we are.

The day-to-day doesn’t challenge us or shape us. And you definitely couldn’t make ten seasons out of it.

I might still be going through the worst year of my life. But, keep watching, the best bit’s still to come.