Thursday 19th May 2011
What did I eat today?
Breakfast - Oat so simple Golden Syrup ½ packet
Lunch - ½ pot of thick vegetable soup
Dinner - ½ packet of Thai spice cous cous cauliflower cheese
- 3 Ginger nut biscuits
I got up today with a little more vigour than I have had in a few weeks. What was so different about today? I had some energy and it felt good. Maybe I’ve turned a corner at last!
I got Bailey Bop ready for school; we then took the pooch and walked to school. It was a lovely sunny morning, a little breezy, but lovely. I seem to feel fuller of energy this morning and the walk to school was lovely. It’s quite amazing how quiet the village is at 8am in the morning. I haven’t really paid much attention to it in the past but today it just dawned on me. Where is everyone at that time? I suppose prior to breakfast club, we didn’t walk to school until about 8:45am, and it was always busy with mums, dads and grandparents dropping of children. But at 8am it’s eerily silent, a bit like an old western with the odd tumble weed (large truck) going past. Seeing all the lovely flowers, and the greenery on the trees budding, turns Shap into a lovely blossom itself. Shap is a village of values and morals. It looks after the people who live in it and looks out for everyone.
Back at the house, I got on with the dishes and tiding up the kitchen. It seems that this is a never ending chore. I wish I had a dishwasher and I could hide everything inside it and then wash it all together. Lazy I know but it would be nice. Next, I sorted out the washing, 3 loads of clothes to be washed and it’s like I only did a pile on Monday. Where does it all come from? I’m sure my boys put clean clothes back into the wash basket just to keep me on my toes. Have any of you seen the Cinderella movie, well I feel like her sometimes. For once I’d like the animals to come in and just do all the housework and washing. Then my fairy godmother to turn up and magic a stunning outfit, with all the jewels to go with it, a top of the range car and my prince charming to whisk me off to the weekend of my dreams. Dreaming, being the operative word but it’s nice to dream.
The mail came and I was chuffed to receive notification that we can now go ahead with the extension which we so badly need for Bailey Bop. All I need to do now is secure a good price for the works and the funding for the difference from what Eden Disabled Facilities Grant will pay. It’s looking like £20,000 which they will pay and I will have to find the difference of about £15,000. A lot of money I know, but hopefully I can apply to the Royal British Legion, SAFFA or the Int Corps for grants/funding to help us pay for the difference. SAFFA did say that they would help once we got the quotes in for the costs so fingers crossed.
An old friend contacted me today and asked for the link to this blog. I was a little taken aback but I gave them it. When I logged into the blog today, I saw that 75 people had read it in the last 24 hours; from Denmark, America, Cyprus and Canada, as well as the UK. How do all you people find out about this blog? I’d love to know? I’m thankful to you all for reading it.
I popped to the Co-op for some fresh chicken and stir fry vegetables, so that Mike and Daz could have sweet n’ sour stir fry chicken for dinner. Bailey Bop was having the left over steak pie, carrots, broccoli and potatoes with gravy from last night and I was having leftovers as well. After dinner I sat down to chill again.
My nights are so boring at the moment. I can’t wait to be able to go to the gym and then I can go to some evening sessions and start some of the classes. I’m really beginning to get severe withdrawal symptoms from not being able to go. Just the buzz and the feeling which I get from going there is difficult to put into words. I feel invigorated, revitalized and energized all at the same time. Also, it is a pastime which is just for me, on my own and I can totally concentrate on me. Not long now and I’ll be able to go back. But it can’t come quick enough.
Friday 20th May 2011
What did I eat today?
Breakfast - ½ packet of Oat so simple apple & raspberry
Lunch - ½ tub of thick vegetable soup with a slice of brown bread no crusts
Dinner - 3 tbl spns Basmati Rice with chicken korma sauce
- White chocolate and raspberry cookie
- 3 Ginger nut biscuits
Today I was up bright and early, yet again I had to drag Daz out of his bed, well saying it’s Friday. What is it with boys, not getting out of bed? I can’t remember ever sleeping in for school; I was there with knobs on. Bailey was the same but he wouldn’t get out of bed as he was playing on his DS. Bloody kids they know how to try our patience on a regular basis. Also, before Daz went to school I asked him if he had his PE kit with him, he said yes, but when I asked him if I could check his school bag he said that he didn’t and i had to make sure that he put it in.
You’d think by now that he would know that I know all the tricks of the trade when it comes to getting out of doing stuff. Been there, seen it, done it and got the T-Shirt! Teenagers will never learn, will they? I think they forget that we were once teenagers. So off Daz had to go to school, mumping and moaning that he had to take his PE kit. Bailey eventually got his lazy butt out of bed and got dressed. We then walked to school with the pooch.
On the way back home I popped into the butchers for some chicken, sausages and bacon, also a huge bone for Oscar. Then it was back home, to sort out the washing on the line and put another load out to dry. After that, I hoovered the kitchen, hall stairs and landing, living room, Bailey Bops room and my bedroom. I wish at times I could hoover the dog; his hairs are driving me crazy as they are absolutely all over the place, including my clothes. No matter how much we brush him they are falling out in droves.
After, that was all done; I cleaned the bathroom and polished throughout the down stairs. Once this was all finished I sat down to have my breakfast and orange juice. As I was having my breakfast I sat and watched my daily fix of Homes Under the Hammer and Don’t Get Done Get Dom. Then at about 12 noon, Lauren, Mike’s daughter, arrived to stay for the weekend. We had lunch and then I telephoned my mum and paid all her bills online and sorted out her accounts for her. Then I sat and wrote some of my blog from yesterday to keep me up to date, saving me from having lots to write all at once.
Mike and I made dinner for everyone, Chicken Korma, Basmati Rice and Garlic bread. All the kids love it and we’re guaranteed that Lauren will eat it. After dinner I went upstairs to run a bath for myself, I felt that I need to chill and relax and a lovely hot and deep bath was the way forward. Seeing as it takes ages to fill the bath up I went into my room and decided to sort through my clothes.
I have so many clothes in my wardrobe which are too big for me now that I need to have a proper sort out. Once I’d started I couldn’t stop. Top after top, dress after dress, jeans, jumpers, and trousers they all were thrown on a pile on my bed. The pile got bigger and bigger as my wardrobe got emptier. God did I really have that many clothes, as I was taking stuff out I noticed that loads of them still had tags on them. I hadn’t even worn them. Then I looked at them and I knew why. They were horrible, why had I bought them? I know, because they were suitable to hide a fat stomach and big hips. They were very “fuddy duddy” and old fashioned. Not really what I would expect a thirty something to wear. More like a fifty or sixty something.
I checked my bath and it was ready so I got in and lay there for about 15 minutes before I started getting my hair and body washed. It was lovely, just what my aching body was crying out for. I must have spent about 30-40 minutes in total in the bath but it was so worth it. Back in my bedroom, I got into my pj’s and sorted out my hair. Then I got myself into gear and started packing away all the clothes into bags. Bag after bag, I kept filling them. I honestly didn’t think that I owned so many clothes, but obviously I did (do). Eight black bags and two clothes rails and shelves later, I was finished. OMG, I’m shocked at the amount of clothes I have cleared out. I could have got rid of more but I need something to wear, even if they are slightly big.
I came down the stairs and gave my mum a call to find out if she wanted any of the clothes or should I take them to Age Concern? She said for me to sort through all the stuff and take up what she would like, i said that was difficult as we both had different tastes and that she would be better to decide for herself what she wanted. So I now have to take all 8 bags up to Edinburgh on Friday when I go next week for half term. What she doesn’t want I shall bring back down and give to Age Concern as there is most probably someone who would gladly wear all the things which I have cleared out, all the clothes are immaculate!
I then sat down and finished typing up this blog and watched NCIS on FX HD and had my latte and cookie for my supper.
Saturday 21st May 2011
What did I eat today?
Breakfast - 8 Mini Oatibix with apple and sultanas & skimmed milk
Lunch - Cup of tea
Dinner - Broccoli, mashed swede, mashed potato, carrots, cauliflower cheese, small slice of turkey and country gravy (Tobys Carvery)
- ¼ of the bowl of ice cream
I had the longest lay in possible today; I didn’t get out of my bed until 11am. I must have been tired for me to stay in bed that long. It’s not like me to sleep in that late. Daz was already up and away to work, Lauren was in the shower and Bailey Bop was doing his usual, playing on the Wii. I came down the stairs and had my breakfast, cup of tea and read the papers.
Mike had booked for us to go bowling at 2:30pm so I went and had a wash, sorted out my hair as I looked like Kate Bush, brushed my teeth and sorted out my clothes to wear. I put on my lovely new top which I’d bought out of Monsoon and also my linen pants from there as well. I also got a bra and pants set which I had bought some time ago, it didn’t fit so I just put it at the back of my underwear drawer, but now it fits and I’m chuffed to bits. I also looked out my brown wedge sandals which I ordered from next last year and wore them for the first time. I’m beginning to notice with my clothes that the weight is coming off. But why, when I look in the mirror do I still see this horrible, fat and ugly person staring back at me? I look just a big as I did before I had the surgery. I feel a little lost. I loathe how I look and every time I see myself in the mirror I want to be sick. I just want to be thin. Not stick thin just thin. That size 12 from River Islands seems such a long way off.
We all got into the car and headed up to Carlisle, Daz didn’t want to come with us. Why, do teenagers these days not want to do anything as a family? Why do they want to just sit on their backsides in front of a games machine or pc? It’s beyond me. I would have given my eye teeth to have gone out and done stuff with my parents and then had dinner out as a child. We never ate out as a family as it was too expensive and there would have been 6 to feed so it was definitely a no no.
At the bowling we had great fun. It was really busy, all the lights were dimed and all the lights going down the lanes were on. As usual Mike won both games; I came 2nd, Lauren 3rd and Bailey last. But it wasn’t about winning or losing it was about taking part and having fun. It’s amazing how competitive Mike becomes when we play any type of game. But its fun and we all enjoyed it. We went into the arcade section for a little bit before heading to Toby’s Carvary for dinner. We ordered 3 Adults and 1 Childs Carvary, going down the hotplate I had the childs plate and Bailey Bop had my plate. Bailey’s plate was piled high where mine was quite full. I loved every mouthful of what I had. I ate more than I thought I would but it was lovely.
Back home we sat down and chilled in front of the TV. It’s BGT (Britain’s Got Talent) and the recorded last episodes of V before bed. It has been another lovely day even though I missed half of my day by sleeping in till 11 this morning. Pity the weather isn’t as nice as our day has been; it’s very wet and windy, with loads of grey clouds everywhere. The kid’s behaviour has been fantastic and we couldn’t have asked for them to be better. Why can’t they be like this more often? All they want to do is bitch and moan at one another. Is it because there is 5+ years between them and teenagers have no patience with younger children? Your guess is as good as mine. I just wish that they were more understanding of Bailey and his issues. Also, the fact that even though Bailey may be 9 years old, developmentally he is anything from between 2 – 9 years old. They just need to learn to have more patience with him.
So following on from blog 12;
Two weeks went by and I didn’t hear from them. I thought it was about time that I called them and faced the music. My mum answered the telephone and was so chuffed to hear my voice. I asked her what she thought about my pregnancy. She was chuffed to bits and she wondered what we were going to do about the wedding. In the time that I’d been waiting to hear from her, Pete and I had decided to bring the wedding forward to the May, 13th May to be precise. It was only about 10 days after he got back from Bosnia but it would mean that I wasn’t too heavily pregnant and I would be able to have a semi decent wedding dress made to fit me.
Mum, was concerned, she had been told a lot of unsettling information about Pete and was worried that I was making a big mistake. She said that if I wanted to have this baby and not get married that she would stand by me and the child could go and live with her. But I said what she’d heard must have either been a pack of lies or that they’d got Pete mixed up with someone else in his Battalion. I didn’t want to hear anything bad, I’d made my mind up and I was marrying Pete. I was head over heels in love with him and nothing anyone could say would make me change my mind or make the slightest bit of difference.
When I next spoke with Pete I asked him about what my mum had said to me. He told me not to listen to it and that they had got him mixed up with someone else from the Battalion. My emotions were all over the place, pregnancy does that to you. I loved the Army and I was determined to come back to work after my pregnancy, but worried how I would manage and if Pete and I would be able to get posted together. The 2 months run up to the wedding was a nightmare, with all the arrangements having to be made by me with no help from Pete, also trying to work with his camp to get the Mess and the food all arranged. Then, “That Man” started making life difficult. He didn’t have the money for the hotel, he didn’t have the money to spend while over there and where was he going to get the money for outfits for all my sisters, not to mention my mum and him? He wasn’t thinking of me or the added pressure that I was under with having to prepare, plan and execute a wedding all on my own but also the fact that I was nearly half way through my pregnancy, all the stress wasn’t good for me or my unborn child. Yet again all that he was thinking about was his self, nothing unusual there.
The 3rd May came and Pete arrived back from Bosnia. I was so relieved, that I now had him with me and he could support me and help with the final plans. Life was, or seemed to be just so perfect. I had a man in my life that loved me, or so I thought loved me, we were having a child together and soon we were to be man and wife. I knew that the vows we were about to make were binding and no matter what they were for life. Or so I thought. I was 21 nearly 22 and when I look back now so very naive. On the 5th May I got a call from my mum to tell me that, “That Man” said that they weren’t coming for the wedding as he didn’t have a suit to give me away and he couldn’t afford to buy one. I was devastated. Yet again he was controlling me and he was hundreds of miles away. All I could do was cry. My OC and Sgt Mjr wanted to know why I was so upset so I told them. They both offered to walk me down the isle if he definitely didn’t come over for the wedding.
I have to say if it wasn’t for my little sister Lea, then my mum wouldn’t have made it over for the wedding. She bought “That Man” a suit and everything which he needed and also gave him the money so that they could go to Germany. She on the other hand couldn’t then afford to get the time off work and so missed out on my wedding. I have never really honestly thanked her, as I didn’t find this out until years later what she had done and given up so that my two other sisters and mum could make it. So if you are reading this Lea. Thank You from the very bottom of my heart.
The wedding came and everything was just perfect. I turned up 20 minutes late and I was only 2 minutes around the corner from the church. But I got there and I married Pete. Little did I know at the time what I had let myself in for! I would later find out that I wasn’t wife no2 that I was actually wife no3 and that he’d never been faithful to me from the very beginning. He would cheat on me, but turn it around on me and make it my fault. He would drink and become verbally abusive and physically abusive and frightening. He would give me sexually transmitted diseases and force me to have sex with him while I was asleep or when I didn’t want to. I was walking into 5, nearly 6 years of hell and I didn’t have a clue what was going to hit me.
It’s times like this when I look back on my life and wish that I’d had a crystal ball and have been able to see into the future. Would I have made the same mistakes or would I have lived my life differently. It’s true what they say, “you should always listen to your mother, as she’s never wrong”. I should have listened to my mum and all her information about Pete was true and “A leopard never changes its spots”. But I suppose what has happened to me throughout my years of marriage to Pete in the end has helped to shape the person that I am today. It has made me a stronger person, more aware of what I definitely don’t want in my life.
After our wedding we took a quarter in Fallingbostel, 23/6 Heidemark Strassa, where Pete’s Battalion was stationed. It meant that I could live in the block during the week and go home on a weekend. Everything seemed to go without issue until about 32 weeks into my pregnancy when I became very ill and started to bleed. I was put on total bed rest, anti biotics and had to stay at home in our quarter. The good thing about it was that I could see more of Pete and the bad thing about it was that I couldn’t see my mates from my unit. I found it really difficult to fit in with the wives of Pete’s Battalion. Mainly because I was classed as an outsider, also that I was a female soldier, and most of the wives attitudes at the time were, that any female soldiers in the army was either a lesbians or tarts, and were after their husbands. So it was really a very lonely existence.
At that time I made up my mind that I wanted to be back in the UK to have my baby. I didn’t want the risk that I would go into labour and that the military wouldn’t be able to get me to a military hospital and I’d have to go to a German hospital. Not that I have anything against German hospitals, I just wanted to be somewhere that I knew they could fully understand me and I them. So I made arrangements to go back to the UK at 37 weeks pregnant by ferry and stay at my mum’s and “That man” house for the time up to and after my pregnancy. Also, it was cheaper to buy baby things and clothes in the UK, than it was in Germany.
We planned the drive back with Pete going away on a course, so it meant that we didn’t have to pay for our travel back. Also, for some strange reason, money was tight. Pete had come into our marriage with a tonne of debt and for some strange reason he never seemed to have any money. I was left to try to make ends meet with what money I had coming in from my wages. Little did I know that money was going to be an uphill struggle all the way through our marriage!
Back in the UK I had my son Daryl on the 20th September 1995 at the Eastern General Hospital in Edinburgh. It was a lovely little cottage style hospital and the midwives and staff were all lovely. Daryl came into the world at a bouncing 8lbs 2ozs. He was stunning, I’d never seen such a lovelier baby in my life, but I suppose I was bias as I was his mum. Daryl William Hunter Fitzsimmons is what we called our son, after his Granddad Fitzy and also after my granddad Bill as Daz was born on his birthday. I don’t remember much about the labour only that it was really hot and I wanted a solero ice lolly, my mum and Pete were in the room with me and it was so amazing, I didn’t scream and just got on with it.
Out of the hospital and back at my mum’s house we settled into the routine of mum and baby. At the time mum had a dog called lady and she was so protective of Daz, she used to lie underneath his pram in the basket when he was asleep protecting him. When he woke up she would sit next to the pram or me when I was feeding him. I had all good intentions of breastfeeding him, but 2 weeks in and I had to put him on bottles, I was knackered, he ate constantly and I wasn’t producing enough milk for him. I don’t care what anyone says, no matter how much you are taught and how much you want to breast feed, if your body doesn’t produce the milk then it’s just impossible.
At 7 weeks old, “That Man” agreed to drive me back to Germany in Pete’s car, as Pete had to fly back to Germany as he’d hurt his foot/leg while on the course and had been returned to unit. His car was outside the house and we needed it back in Germany. So he drove Daz and I back and all the baby things which we’d been given and bought over the past 8-9 weeks. For him to get back to the UK a friend of ours had arranged for him to drive a car back for them so it meant that he didn’t have to pay anything and was given money for his inconvenience, he never did anything for nothing and he wasn’t about to start now. Our little flat was lovely, 3 bed roomed but on the 3rd floor, which was a nightmare with a pram, getting up and down the stairs.
I settled in and made it as homely as was possible with magnolia walls and not the edge carpets. Life in military quarters was and never was the best but you had to just get on with it. A couple of weeks after getting back, the rumours started. I walked into the Naafi shop to do some shopping and one of the staff said to me, your fitzys’ missus aren’t you! I said yes why do you ask? She informed me that, she didn’t want to upset me but she felt that I should know that while I was in the UK after Daz’s birth, Pete was back in Germany having an affair with the dental sergeant on the camp next door. I was speechless; I didn’t know what to say, was it just jealous of what we had or was she telling the truth? I didn’t know but I was determined to find out. I challenged Pete that evening, and he denied everything, I was so head over heels in love with him that I believed him. When I look back he did get very defensive but at the time I thought that was just due to the fact that he had to fight his corner, not that he was lying through his bare teeth to me.
I then came across letters from a girl whom he was dating before we met and after his ex-wife, Tracey. The letters were dated after our wedding and the birth of our son, but were asking when she was going to see him again and how much she was in love with him and when were they going to get married. Looking back, now I should have packed up and left him there and then but I didn’t. I had made my vows in a house of god and I wasn’t about to give up on my marriage. More fool me, but as they say “Love is blind”. When I challenged him about this, he came up with some plausible excuse which, for some reason I believed him. Life was difficult from the beginning of our marriage and I should have known then to get out.
From then on life always seemed to be a battle, money tight, debts of Pete’s piling up and me very much on my own with Daz. Then in the December I got my posting. After my maternity leave I was to be posted to the UK, while Pete was to stay in Germany with his Battalion. I wrote to the manning and records department of the MOD and asked if they would kindly change my posting to so that I could stay in Germany with my Husband, but it wasn’t to be. I had to be at my unit by the 8th February 1996 at RAF Digby Lincoln. More pressure was now put on us and Pete decided to tender his resignation from the Army. If they couldn’t post us together then he was prepared to get out as I had the better career, out of the both of us. So back to the UK I went.
My mum came down for my first couple of weeks back at work then Helen, Daryls godmother came down for a couple of weeks, then my little sister came down to stop for a bit. She was going to stay and be my live in nanny while Pete was in Germany. I started falling ill, I constantly had the runs and I was never off the toilet. I couldn’t be any distance from a toilet and I was in excruciating pain. After numerous tests, biopsies and examinations they came to the conclusion that I had irritable bowel syndrome. I couldn’t work in the job which I should have had, so they gave me an internal posting to be the Commanding Officers PA. This also meant that I could be right next to a toilet and thus not have any worries about being at work.
Pete’s belongings started getting shipped back to the UK, 3 massive MFO boxes arrived at the house, so I started to unload them and pack all his clothes and belongings away. I then came across all the letters and cards which I had sent to him during the time we were apart before we got married. It was nice to reminisce so i started reading through them, all of a sudden I came across a pile of letters and cards which I hadn’t sent him, it’s true what the they say “curiosity got the cat”. I had to read them, but did I really want to? Would it have been better if I didn’t know? No, I had to find out what was in these letters. Whether I liked what I’d read or not.
The first pile of letters were from his ex-wife saying how much she really did love him and hoped that they could see each other when he got back from Bosnia like they had before he’d gone out there. That the sex was memorable and maybe they could try again for the sake of Alisha their daughter! Then there was the letters from a woman called Carol Berry saying that she had given birth to a little girl called Nina and some pictures. Then there was letters and cards from another woman called Laura who was madly in love with him and she’d been sending him letters even after our marriage. She was planning their wedding and couldn’t understand why he was being so distant with her. That she understood that he was due back in the UK anytime soon and couldn’t wait to see him.
I was speechless; all I wanted to do was cry. What had I done to him to make him want to do this to me? Why was he being unfaithful? What could I have done differently to change the situation? I didn’t know and when he eventually came back to the UK he kicked off big time. It was my fault for being away from him; it was my fault as I wasn’t always there for him, I was fat, ugly and useless. He turned it around and made it all my fault. I was useless, worthless, ugly, fat and a waste of space. I was back into my old cycle of abuse, but this time it was verbally, mentally and psychologically. It would be a few more months before it became abusively. History was repeating it’s self and I wasn’t able to stop it.
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