Change.

I’ve just spent a short while reading the post of a fellow widow on WordPress. Just the term “fellow widow” has a strange ring to it even now, nearly four years after My Lady died. The post documents the feeling of a desire for big change, among other things. I related to it so much it brought a tear to my eye. If you’ve followed this blog for any amount of time, you will know that this is something I have thought about countless times. I find it a little bit strange, given that the very thing that destroyed my life was the biggest change imaginable. For what seems an eternity, I had crippling anxiety at the very thought of uncertainty and change. One of many contradictions I’ve experienced in the last four years.

The comfort zone of trying to live in a time bubble of before My Lady died got me through some of that time, I guess. Lock down came only ten days after the funeral so it was easy to stay in that bubble for most of 2020. After a while, I realized that very bubble was an illusion, and one that was destroying me even further. I’ve said it before, but the man I was before she died, died with her. If only she could see me now.

I struggle to know what my ‘comfort zone’ is now. It changes regularly. Sometimes it’s at work. Sometimes it’s when working on my music. Sometimes and probably when I feel the most comfortable it’s when I’m spending time with my headcase family. They don’t know the old me either. They know this and embrace the changes in me they’ve seen since we found each other during the pandemic. That was less than a year after My Lady died, so they have seen nearly all of the changes, from dying my hair for the first time, to my time in the vaccination program, (which also changed me forever) to settling into my new role in electronics and the confidence it gave me back. They have embraced it all and cheered me on at every stage. I’ll always treasure them for that. I’m very lucky to have found them. I wish I could say the same for some of the people that were supposed to my/our close friends.

Sat here bashing out this drivel, painting my nails black for the umpteenth time and looking back over the last four years, it’s very surreal. It just motivates me to make even bigger changes in my life, just like the fellow widow I mentioned. The question is, much like her, is what’s actually possible and what isn’t. The ideal scenario in some ways, is to move home into the one bedroom bungalow I’ve thought about so much and live on my own with Mr C. Despite catching the feels for someone during the last four years, (that was confusing) I don’t want to live with anyone ever again. At least that’s how I feel right now anyway. It still feels like a betrayal of sorts.

I’m fifty this year. Fifty… Weird. I have 20 years of working life left if I’m lucky and the desire to make my life solely mine is just getting stronger. At what point am I going to have this? True freedom. Once you become a parent, you always will be. It sounds an obvious, maybe even stupid thing to say and I said to my Princeling a few times that it wouldn’t matter if he was old, that would never change, but My Lady and I always planned to move to Wiltshire and live our own life on OUR terms eventually. No doubt you might think this attitude makes us/me bad parents, but at some point it HAS to be our time. People can and will think what they like, but life is too short not to do as may things as possible just for ourselves. Interesting that I’m using “we” in the present tense.

We intended to go travelling as much as possible. We were always at our best together when travelling. One of my colleagues said to me yesterday that I should just go on a holiday on my own. Just for me. Then the penny dropped. Why the hell not? I’m not completely crippled financially any more and a few days somewhere in Europe doesn’t have to be expensive. We did it several times before My Lady died.

Berlin, Amsterdam (for our honeymoon), Croatia. Croatia was our first experience of going somewhere hot. It was divine. Sure, that one was more expensive than most but there are no regrets, despite paying for it all on my credit card for My Lady’s fortieth birthday. It’s just an embryo of an idea at the moment, but where to go? The first place that comes to mind is Italy. We always wanted to go there. Regardless, just thinking about it as a real possibility is enlightening. I’m not opposed to going with someone but it will be for myself mainly. Unless of course I had a friend on the same page. Having a good friend with me to share it could be nice too. The idea of sitting on a lounger on a hot beach, sipping cocktails, sounds divine.

Doesn’t that look divine? If I spent my last days with that view and good company, I’d die a happy man.

So, after spending some time doing my nails and writing the above, I’m sat in Costa again. I came to the Ham shops for a few bits but also with the intention of chilling here for a while writing. Ironically, given the topic of this post, I arrive at Poundland to find it has closed down. Poignant. I can’t even count the amount of times we went there for stuff. It’s also the first shop I went to after My Lady died. The trauma of that day still lives with me. So that’s five shops that have closed since she died. It’s quite upsetting, surprisingly. All these changes that she will never know about. Superdrug for toiletries and hair dye, Connel’s for stationary, Iceland for party food, the hair dressers she always went to, and now Poundland too. Being at the Ham shops is always poignant to some extent but it’s always worse when a shop she knew closes down. This is another reason why part of me wants to leave the Ham and start anew. I might be in control of my emotions when I’m triggered but it’s still screaming inside me. I think it always will be all the time I live here. No reason to think that will change I guess.

I took today off work, simply because I could if I’m honest, but when I woke up I felt particularly reflective so I decided to make it a mental health day instead. I need to do this more often. For the most part my mental health is ok at the moment. Sure there’s the usual stresses of work etc, but the depression seems to have taken a back seat to some extent. For now anyway. I do have the odd day where I’m down but they don’t last too long and aren’t quite as deep as they used to be. As I type that, I wonder why particularly. The thought occurs that I’ve had some truly wonderful times with some truly wonderful people in recent times. Any time with my headcase family is deep soul food for me as we are so incredibly close but I’ve had some lovely times with colleagues recently too. In the past I’ve been quite guarded with colleagues but since starting the job I’m in now, I’ve found one or two lovely souls that I’ve genuinely bonded with.

The work Christmas party was the perfect example. I spent the whole time with a lady that I’ve learned to trust quite a lot. It seems to work both ways too. We had a great time and if I do say so myself we both looked absolutely fabulous. I had no desire to get blind drunk, despite there being free drinks all night. Not only did I want to enjoy the company properly but I wanted to actually remember it this time. We were both in agreement that it was a great night and we really enjoyed each other’s company. Nice that we could be open about that without any awkwardness.

The other colleague is a young lad that, again, I have engendered a mutual trust with. It’s so nice to have new people in my life that I trust. Until now the only people I could genuinely trust were my headcase family and I mostly interact with them online.

So I’ve nearly finished my large latte and I guess I should go to Tesco and get my shopping. To be honest, I’m not sure I even want to go home yet, but there’s not a lot I can do here other than bash out more of this drivel. Having said that, it’s the main reason I came out at all.

Recent events have made me very contemplative about my life. New connections for one. The thoughts of making a new life for myself. One thing I’ve learned over the last year is that despite the fact I’m not in a position to do anything about it and I’m sure as hell not brave enough (yet) to, I DO have room in my heart at least for someone new even if my situation precludes it for now. It’s a very surreal thought, particularly sitting here with the memories of my previous life swirling around my mind.

By the same token, another thing I realized is that however lonely I am, the last thing I want is anything shallow and frivolous relationship wise. Another colleague that was supposed to be a friend turned out to want a lot more from me than friendship and it seems she would do almost anything to get it. Also a widow, she would repeatedly go on about my having “needs” too. In the end she turned out to be probably the most manipulative person I’ve ever met and I’ve met some really awful manipulators in my time. She was so lacking in empathy that at the very moment Mr T was being put to sleep, all she was interested in was sending me photos of cd’s and a t shirt she got at a gig we had planned to go to together. At the same time she was posting on Facebook, complaining about being at a gig on her own. She knew exactly what was happening to Mr T at the time. The lack of empathy was shocking, bordering on sociopathic. Suffice to say I was livid. I told her exactly how I felt but despite that she still tried to act normally as though we were still friends. I ended up blocking her on every platform.

To my disgust this week she had the audacity to complain, in front of colleagues, about how I talked to her. It was all I could do not to go nuclear in her face despite being at work. I stewed on it all day, drafting a message I intended to send her that evening. To that end I unblocked her long enough to send it and then re blocked her immediately. I pulled no punches. In fact I threw a few, verbally of course. I’ve never been a violent man. If she hasn’t got the message now then she must be the most delusional person on the planet.

Bye Felicia…

Anyway, enough of such pleasant reminiscences.

I consider myself grateful for the lesson. It confirms that I am right to be so cautious as to who is welcome in my life. Anyone who is, is treasured. Anyone else is not wanted or welcome in my life or home. I never invite anyone home having been a hermit for so long. I’d like to change that eventually.

So I’ve got some hair dye, more nail polish and I still have some lush products left from Christmas that Precious gave me. Once the chores are done I’ll tidy my beard, have a hot soak and dye my hair. I not only need it, I deserve it. The constant work/sleep routine is soul destroying at times, especially given I have to cycle to work in sub zero temperatures despite loving my job. I’ve cycled over two and a half thousand miles since the car died last February. For some reason I got it into my head it was nearly three thousand but no. Still, two and a half is insane. That’s all the way to Croatia and back and half way there again as the crow flys. God I hate winter so bloody much.

Wow, my latte is stone cold. I’ve been sat here over an hour bashing out this drivel! Enough consciousness streaming for this post.

Later friends x