A guest post by Anonymous: It wasn’t meant to be this way

A guest post by someone who wishes to stay anonymous, but wanted to write.

It wasn’t meant to be this way.

That’s what I keep telling myself.

This was meant to be a fresh start.

Another line I mutter.

Things don’t always work out how you hoped though.  In fact they rarely do for us it seems.

January 2012.  That was meant to be our new dawn.  We were so full of hope, moving away from a town where we had little family support to a city where I had a lot.  Sure, we had friends although I am not sure how many we could class as real friends.  Certainly, despite efforts, few have stayed in touch.  With my worsening health I just felt it would be better for us as a family unit to be closer to my extended family.

We found a beautiful house to rent, with a garden, a spare room for guests.  The husband found a job quickly, all was good.

The husband lost his job, I got a temporary job.

Still, things were good.

Then my contract came to an end and the husband found work again.

Not quite as good but we were coping.

Then my health, physical and mental, deteriorated at what felt like a startling rate.

I got my antidepressants increased, which helped a bit but I still felt like I wasn’t coping.  Of course, in my warped mind, I refused to admit I couldn’t cope.  Hid it from everyone, lied to the people that only want to help about what I’d been up to, fearing judgement.  I’d cry myself to sleep most nights but as I often go bed before the husband, this too went unnoticed.   I had regular nightmares about being deemed an unfit mother and having my son taken off me, whether by the authorities or through the husband just upping and leaving.

I have had battles to be taken seriously about physical health.  When I finally managed to find someone who knows what they are talking about, who believes me and the pain that I am in, I felt immense relief but this was just the start of a potentially very long journey.  I now need to discover whether my conditions are genetic; do my siblings have them; does my son have them; what is the right surgical option to proceed? More tests.  More scans.  More hospital appointments.  More medication.  I am surprised I don’t rattle when I walk.  When I can walk that is.

Alcohol became my friend.  Once H was tucked up in bed, the house was a lonely, noisy place which allowed my mind to go into overdrive.  With a glass (or several) of wine before the husband got home from work, I could forget about the day-to-day stress of life.  Wallow in self-pity if I wanted.  Log onto Twitter and joke and laugh with my followers if I wanted.  Anything to avoid dealing with real life.

Of course, real life catches up with you at some point.

With us seeing very little of each other, the husband didn’t realise that I wasn’t coping, that I wasn’t taking responsibility of the finances as I had previously.  To be fair, he had no reason to think otherwise, I’ve always been honest in the past when I haven’t felt I have been coping.  But this was meant to be our fresh start wasn’t it?

It feels like it has flown by but suddenly we find ourselves where we are today.

The husband slowly realised I wasn’t coping.  Noticed that perhaps H wasn’t as happy as he should be.  Slowly it dawned on him I wasn’t taking H out as much as he needs.  I could no longer pick him up, rarely stand long enough to cook a healthy, nutritious meal.

In a hostel.  Myself, the husband and H are all living and sleeping in one room, with a galley kitchen and our own shower and toilet, which reeks of damp.

It’s been a wake-up call for sure.

Yes we do have family that could, at a push, put us up but, you know, they shouldn’t have to.  And in all honesty I think we will get housed quicker in the hostel.  Besides, they have done more than enough recently, giving food parcels, letting us have use of their house over Christmas while they are away, treating the husband and I to a wonderful meal out.

The nightmares of having my son taken off me have returned.  I have cried for what should have been, for what this was meant to mean for us all and questioned how it could all have gone so horribly wrong, cursing myself, willing my husband to just take off and find a woman who can run a home and look after a child.

Then I am reminded that actually, things could be worse.  I do have family that wouldn’t see us go hungry, who will ensure that we do have a nice Christmas.  We do have a roof over our heads, however temporary and cramped and the reality at the moment is that there are some people without that.  There may be days where I cannot move more than about 30 meters at a time, where I get frustrated at not being able to keep up with H but no matter what, in some way or another I can play with him and entertain him and let him know I love him and of that he is secure.

We end 2012 leaving behind a shattered dream, unsure of what the future holds in so many aspects, housing, health, financially but fairly confident that it can’t be much worse and clinging onto the positives such as a wonderfully, happy son and a very supportive extended family.

Update: 11/12/12 by @SAHDandproud – the person who wrote this blog has been overwhelmed by the comments received and would like to thank you all for taking the time to read their story. I, like you all, truly hope things change for this family for the better and wish them all good things from this day forward. And while comments on such a topic may make you think ‘I wish I could do something more meaningful’ know that the people involved have felt a lot of love and support. Thank you all.

Advertisements

17 responses to “A guest post by Anonymous: It wasn’t meant to be this way

  1. This is heartbreaking to read, I truly hope that things improve for you and your family soon.

    If you ever think there is anything I can do to give a little help, please ask. You know where I am.

    Much love to you all, and big hugs.

  2. Wow. Incredibly honest and very brave.
    Your family know love, and that’s what will be remembered as they grow. Money, a nice house, fancy presents and posh meals aren’t the importance.
    Stay strong, stay positive.

  3. Well don’t I feel just rotten for complaining about the time it took me to wrap all of our Christmas presents this afternoon? In a warm home with my husband at work and son napping I was truly ungrateful for all I have. While I’m very sorry for the situation you have found yourselves in I am hopeful that your message will put a lot of lives in perspective and that your 2013 will be happier. Do keep us updated x

  4. Wow!

    So brave. So honest. I cannot possibly ever know the hurt and pain you and your family have gone through in the last year – and are still going through. If there is one thing that christmas time shows us, is that family are key to everything. I truly hope that your whole family rally round and support you in any way possible so that you 3 are able to “live” again instead of merely existing!

    Thank you for have the strength to post! My heart and thoughts go out to you all. If I can help – please say – though I appreciate your anonymity

    Hugs x

  5. A
    Beautifully written, touching and sad post but with an underlying strength and love for your family. I wish I could help – but am always willing to listen x

  6. That’s such a tough year to read about, I hope the next year is much much better for you and things get better from here and you are able to rent again, a home for the 3 of you again.

    Like the other comments, if there is anything I can do to help please say. Sending you best wishes xx

  7. I admire the way you have been so honest in telling your story. I hope you get all the help you need from now on, to get back on your feet. I’d help in any small way I could. Best wishes.

  8. You know that if I can do anything (honest, anything, you can even have my last biscuit and even the husband doesn’t get that much love from me!). Although things are very different for us a lot of what we have battled/are battling are similar. So, if nothing else, please know that it WILL get better, so much better that once some time has passed you know that you went through all of this for a reason. It’s a long hard road but you can do it because you’re stronger than you realise x

  9. Love and strength to you this Christmas. I had times this year before moving and finding a job when I had to feed the children and not myself. It’s such a rapid spiral and it’s not always easy to ask family or friends for help. Thinking of you all and sending love and hope for 2013 and beyond.

  10. It does get better, And in many ways this will make you stronger.

    I really hope the housing situation gets sorted soon. Just wish there was something more we could do but that’s the way the system works 😦

  11. I was open mouthed reading this. A raw and poignant post from a very brave person. When you strip away the presents and the tinsel what you have left at Christmas is the people standing next to you. Who you love and who love you. Remembered you are loved this Christmas. Everything else is just for the moment but your little family is forever xxx

  12. I hope very much that things will start to go your way soon. Your story is heartbreaking and your circumstances must prove a heavy challenge for you to face on a daily bases. However I am sure your child is extremely safe with you and your husband and the love and care that you provide is as much as he needs. Watch that drinking though, I’ve been there and it can be a slippery road. I wish you all the best going forward, my thoughts will be with you. x

  13. You are very brave and incredibly honest. I truly admire your ability to see the positives, I’m not sure that I would have your strength. I wish you an abundance of luck not just for 2013, but for the rest of your lives. I hope that we can read a post from you in the very near future, telling us that things are working out. xxx

Please leave a comment. Thank you.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s