And so it is Christmas … (CW) 


Christmas is an odd time of year. I was very lucky to have


lovely family Christmases when I was growing up. The excitement of the wait, the decorations, the tree, the ever increasing open doors on the advent calendar… Even when my mum had to work a couple of times, she still managed to make Christmas for us later in the day.
Fast forward quite a few years and then there was Christmas as a young, single parent. That was when the shine started to go out of the tinsel. I loved the couple of days I stayed with family but then it was back home to a house that was difficult to keep warm and that darkness you can only get from feeling like everyone is all jolly.
Don’t even go there with New Year’s Day! Many, many years of going to bed early only to be woken by WWIII in the form of fireworks. Then there was 2014…. 
Anyway, Christmas had become an odd mixture of joy and sadness. I think that is the way of things as you get older, more loved ones not being there anymore – some move away and some have died. Then I met my ex husband and everything seemed to sparkle again. 
After only two months of dating, he proposed on Christmas Day in front of my family. I was so happy, I was also so relieved to leave the stigma of single parenthood behind. With my sparkly diamond on my ring finger, I felt like I could take on the world.
This lovely cloud floated around for a while. I’m not sure when the rot set in but when we were married in the Spring, I wasn’t as happy as I should have been. Christmassy became a time of worry and stress. 
There was the worry over money for presents, the extreme worry over how much he would drink (and that was a lot), the stress of trying to keep up a happy front. This became increasingly hard as family fell out with him and didn’t want him there. I was emotionally torn apart. I now dreaded the start of Autumn when Christmas loomed large wherever I went.
Arguments over how much alcohol he had bought and how most of it had gone before Christmas Day still linger on in my mind. Needless to say, he had to buy more. The time he threw away youngest’s Christmas dinner that I had just put in the blender – she was 8 months old. I told him off and he reduced me to tears. I served our Boxing Day Christmas meal with teary eyes to a silent and miserable table. 
I’m doing my best to enjoy Christmas this year. There are triggers and memories with each tradition that I have to face but I am determined that my children will have a happy Christmas. 
It breaks my heart when I think of all the women out there right now who are dreading Christmas. To those women who might not be alive to see the new year in or who spend Christmas keeping the tears from flowing like a never ending river….I am with you and I believe you. I’m holding your hand and feeling your pain, your fear. He will use Christmas as an excuse to be extra vile and abusive. 
There are helplines out there, people out there who care and want you to be safe. I won’t think any less of you if you can’t make that break this Christmas or any Christmas. Please know that there can be joy and light again though. I hope you will find a way to leave one day and what ever day of the year that happens to be – may it feel like the best Christmas you’ve ever had. 
Much love 




It’s ok to hurt


I’m awake and no sign of sleepiness so thought it a good idea (?!) to get this down on screen (poor old, forgotten paper) so it might get out of my head …..

This is a pretty insufferable post so I won’t begrudge anyone if they read it and go ‘ffs woman, get a fucking grip and move on’ …. Or just don’t read any of it if you think that you might have that response.

A few months ago, I wrote some posts called ‘the dating game’ about my experiences with this man who I shall call M. I ended up deleting them in fear of him finding them. I don’t really give a shit now as we’ve split up (yes, we have actually split for good this time!).

What I don’t like is how my brain is still thinking of him, constantly. Of how I miss him so much that it does hurt. That I will never see him or smell him again. And then there’s the puppy …. 😦

I know that time will pass and as my mantraband states ‘this too shall pass’. It shall pass but I still have to live through the pain. I am a bugger for holding on to lost loves, there’s one person (no longer living) who I still dream about even now.

What do we do with these feelings? Right now, I’ve decided not to fight against them and just accept them.
If I want to cry, I will cry. I’ve moved on a bit in the seven days since we split up, I’m feeling less crap about myself as lots of lovely people have told me that I’m an ok person. I’m lucky to have people who genuinely care about me. I’m not sure M has that (and yes, that makes me feel sad).

He brought out a strange need in me to nurture and look after him. I wanted to make him happy, to soothe his woes and provide a steady rock to hold on to. In the process of trying to be all these things, I lost myself. I stopped doing stuff that I enjoyed and retreated back into my own little world. It happened so slowly that it only occurred to me today that I have pretty much ground to a halt.

On the surface, I tried to believe that all was well and this was a strong relationship. Deep down, my body was saying otherwise. My depression has made a come back, my CFS is worse and I feel like a ghost of someone who once had a life.

I don’t know how he did it but he stripped me bare. I was just on the up after my overdose and anxiety attacks, I thought I’d dip my toe into the world of romance and see what happens. That was my biggest mistake.

Heartbreak is an odd and painful experience. In many respects, it’s really not that important. You watch the news and you think ‘why am I sobbing over a shithead when people are dying in wars?’. The broken hearted person acts outside logic – a bit like mental illness. You know, feeling totally alone when you’re not actually totally alone ….. So people can sneer at you and tell you to grow up but you know, they would be the same if someone broke their heart.

So, for now, I will endure and accept that I have a broken heart. One day, it won’t seem important at all. One day, I will look back and wonder why I made such a fuss. Until that moment, I am going to be like scratched vinyl. Stuck in a rut and resorting to the same nonsensical crap over and over again. You’ve been warned 🙂

Love, tea and hugs to the broken hearted ones of this world

PS I haven’t even touched on the lies he and me believing but it’s late….

Goodbye Little Ralf


How Ralf got his name ….

On the weekend of the July 18th I had a miscarriage. I may have been about 6 weeks pregnant.

It was a horrendous experience, the pain, the bleeding and seeing something I shall never forget. No one should see something like that.

I was very distressed and very ill. He miscarriage triggered one of the worst migraines I’ve ever had and I was very sick.

After much persuasion, I managed to get a doctor to take me seriously (they’re not interested in early miscarriages 😦 ). They prescribed me some tramadol for the excruciating pain that I was in. It really had taken control of my body and I could only focus how much agony just I was in.

M took me to get my meds and I took a pill when I got home. I’m quite sensitive to medication (just ask my GP!) so it knocked me out pretty quickly. M somehow managed to get me to bed and that is when I uttered the name ‘Ralf’. Who knows where that came from. It’s not a name that is in my consciousness.

M and I somehow both came to the same conclusion that the baby I lost was a boy and Ralf seemed to be a significant name. Now, I know what you’re all thinking, I’ve absolutely mad and reading far too much into this ….

And the next thing I know, we have a puppy called Ralf because of the little boy I lost. I hope to be the best mummy that Ralf could ever have. He will always be special to me. I may not see him every day but I will be there.

And now I have to say goodbye to Ralf as M has dumped me. I miss you my little boykie. I will miss you more than you will ever comprehend. Please have a happy life and be a good doggy.

Love your mummy xxx

Posting this again


Just for you. I hope you have shit life

Fuck off

You know nothing of me
You know nothing of me
I would have waited for you
Would have crushed all your foes
But you made me a fool
Brought me down like a tree
I was graceful and willing
I was up for the taking

You know nothing of me
You know nothing of me
To treat me this way
Like I’m unworthy of you
Well, you know what to do
You can go screw yourself
And fuck off with your words
They mean nothing to me

You know nothing of me
You know nothing of me
So just stay away now
I do not want to know
How my beauty is great and my passionate soul
Don’t you think I don’t know
You can fuck off with that

#whyIstayed #whyIwent


Anyone that knows anything about domestic abuse will recognise that the reason someone stays is infinitely complex. I appreciate that this # has done the rounds on Twitter but I had to be careful of what I was tweeting at that time.

For ease of writing, I’ll put my reasons into a list. The order is purely based on what I put first as opposed to based on importance.


Nowhere else to go.

The hope it would get better.

Not wanting to be a single parent again.

Fear of what might happen if I left.

How would I cope alone?

The shame of people knowing my marriage had broken down.

Fear in general. Would he kill me?

That maybe it was all in my head.

Being so dependent on this person that leaving was not an option.

Had nothing left and summoning the strength to leave was almost impossible.

The notion that families stick together through thick and thin and we got married in the eyes of god – this was drummed into me.

That it would be me saying I had failed.


I left several times before I finally left.

I didn’t love him.

A charity helped me. They have me strength and showed me that I wasn’t going mad.

His abuse was getting worse and darker in nature.

I found a little diamond of strength in my soul that said ‘enough now, this ends’.

He was arrested but released without charge – forcing me into a dangerous situation where my only option was to get myself and the kids out.

It was emotionally killing me and I couldn’t take anymore.

I had lost my identity and craved for it back.

I wanted a better life for my children, even if it has meant putting them in temp accommodation and me relying on benefits.

The desire to be in charge of my own life and my own body.

And I have to say, I have never missed him or felt broken hearted. There has been no sense of shame, in fact I felt empowered. It took my over four years to leave so I’m not trying to be smug here. Many women can’t leave and the Government has done a good job of making it virtually impossible for them now. This is why refuges are so important. I had family to help me, not everyone does.

If you are thinking about leaving, keep safe. It is a very dangerous time. Seek out help from specialist agencies but do so in a way that he cannot find out. Use someone else’s phone or computer etc

Life on the other side of abuse isn’t easy, it can be quite lonely and people don’t understand what you have gone through. I was stalked for a while too. It’s worth it though, worth it for the freedom and the release from worry. Utilise any services you can to make yourself safe and rebuild your life.

I’m with you, I’m here for you.
Take care
Love Exxx

Post break-up spring clean list of things to do


I’m not sure if anyone else does this but I find it a necessary process so here are my ‘must dos’. Feel free to add your own 🙂

1. Delete all photos and videos. Block them off all social media.
2. Throw away any items they may have left behind like a toothbrush or t shirt.
3. If you’re thinking ahead, leave any stuff they gave you at their place (see photo).
4. Throw away any items they bought for you, give to charity or keep them if they really are quite useful (like an amplifier and speakers for instance).
5. Ignore all calls and texts no matter how much they bleat at you.
6. Get a hair cut and buy new underwear. Throw away any clothes that have special significance.
7. Bleach the house from top to bottom so that any trace of their DNA is destroyed and permanently removed from your residence. And vacuum vacuum vacuum as they leave a hell of a lot of hair everywhere.
8. If you’re that way inclined, have an exorcism performed. I prefer a pagan cleansing ceremony …..
9. Wash bedding and if funds allow, buy a new bed and mattress. It makes all the difference believe me.
10. Remove nail varnish and cut nails (if you were wearing any when you split up).
11. Delete any music they gave you because let’s face it, you were just humouring them when you said you liked their taste in house music.
12. Throw away any condoms unless said boyfriend decided to take them just in case he needed them later ……
13. Deep clean the washing machine, dishwasher and descale the kettle.
14. Throw away any toiletries that may have escaped the previous sweep – like that bar of soap in the shower you forgot was there.
15. Go see that special Dr who erases them from your memory forever (I may be confusing reality with a movie here ….).
16. Block them off your eBay account, email and phone. Cancel any eBay purchases they may have been in the process of buying …..
17. Write nasty, abusive letters to them and then burn them in the garden. Making a voodoo doll of their image and stabbing it with darning needles also helps.
18. Remove all documents they put on your laptop.
19. Vow never to mention their name again; for example, ? becomes Shithead. Slowly Shithead will turn into ‘Who?’.
20. Above all else, hold your head up high and don’t look back. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Make new memories but please stay single for a while (special advice from my son there).

I bet you feel better already yeah? I know I do. Wipe that dust from your feet and move on, skipping as you go. You’re awesome and they didn’t deserve your presence in their life. No more wasting precious energy on someone who doesn’t give a flying fuck whether you’re in their life or not.

Love, tea and hugs to those who matter