Morning Gorgeous xx
** OK Guys, it will be helpful to know that I wrote this post 4 days before I published it. Reading it back some things don’t make sense, but once you’ve read it; I hope you can appreciate why – Much Love, Vik x **
Well it is with a very heavy heart that I write today. This last week has been absolutley crazy. If I’m honest, I do not know what to do for the best; I just know I have to do SOMETHING.
So I’m turning to what I know helps, being creative.
I mean, my last post was short; not intentionally short. I just didn’t have a lot to say. Life was busy, I didn’t have a lot of time, I had a lot to concentrate on. I used to call it hell; and in a way it was. It was a build up, tension was mounting, I was thinking about a lot of things, trying to re-organise things, generally turning the pressure up to see what I could cope with. Fair do’s you need to know.
I mean, money was a pain in the backside. I’d had a lot to pay out, I’m in debt up to my eyeballs thanks to the ex, I NEED certain treatments that are expensive in order to move forward – and I can’t do everything at once, no matter how hard I try. There are things I can do to help; slow things down, put up with a bit of pain – you can’t do this quickly on your own and definitely not on your own if you’re in debt, no matter how you got there.
But even I never expected this. What has happened this week has knocked me right on my backside – and I am struggling. Getting straight to the point – IT HURTS.
Ok, so I knew I was going to find it difficult to get through this month. I’d been forced to pay out for things that I didn’t want to pay out for just yet. Money was, and is at the time of writing this, non existant. And I admit, I was banging my head against a brick wall. But now, I don’t give a shit.
Money has been my primary concern, that woman taking me for all that money clearly threw me into situations I never thought possible. And it’s due to that, that were today. But the last week has seen a paradigm shift in what concerns me. And it’s taken every single ounce of guts that i’ve got not to insane.
It started through the money, I took a week off work to sort everything out. I had it all planned out and I started to execute it perfectly. By the Tuesday, when I had a counselling appointment, I knew where I was at and lists of tasks were ready to go. But then Tuesday night, as planned, I went with some friends to see a play. It was an LGBTQ play about a man coming to terms with being Gay in the world of Boxing. It sounded straightforward enough and it was a really good play, believe its been nominated for a few awards – it deserves them, it is that good.
FYI, the play is called Gypsy Queen and has been written by a guy called Rob Ward. If you can get to see it while it’s on tour – do.
But the play itself brought some very strong feelings to the surface which I haven’t dealt with. I thought I had, but I haven’t. And I don’t think I’m complete this transition until I do. I’ve already discussed these feelings with counsellors in previous sessions and they’d said I needed to deal with them, they’d also made suggestions of how; based on certain that situations that may or may not happen. Either way, if you don’t do it and you end up in that situation, you know what to expect.
Well fuck me, I did not expect to end up in that EXACT situation. Was the damn counsellor psychic??? She must have been…
So What situation are we talking about, and why the heavy heart? Why the sadness?? What’s wrong Vik???
Watching the play got me thinking. Got me thinking about family. The play had links, and I believe was set in (might be wrong, don’t shoot me Rob) Liverpool in the 1980’s – certainly one of the characters was the original scouse ma’ as they say, a definite comical rendition. All seeing, all knowing, with a very thick skin but a big softie underneath. Well she reminded me of my mother – and the situation of being LGBTQ, and having to hide it for whatever reason, struck a massive chord. You see ultimately, I left Liverpool because I couldn’t handle being LGBTQ in that area of the country – it is very slow to change up there and they don’t suffer fools gladly. In addition, my viewpoint was warped to start with; as you already know from previous posts. So I decided it was time to get back in touch and clear the decks – everyone deserves an apology at some stage, don’t EVER let an argument settle without cleaning it up first.
And there needed to be apologies, in my view on both sides. But someone’s got to take the initiative and start the conversation, and it was going to have to be me. So I did, I sent a message and waited for a response…
It wasn’t long before I got one. I came from my Auntie, she wanted to know who it was that was contacting her using a profile from someone she knew who disappeared. SO I just said to work it out, which she very quickly did. Then came the bombshell. That was the moment my world fell apart. 7pm on Wednesday, right smack in the middle of the week. I’d lost my dad…
I was done.
It fucking hurts writing this, and I’m in tears again; I have been for two days now. But there’s more to this than meets the eye; you see I pushed my parent’s away five years ago as I was forced to choose between them and my unborn son. I was put in a situation where I had one on one side, another on another and I’m in the middle having the question fired at me – Can you believe each side is saying this, and what are you going to do about it? Well which one do you choose? Your family, or your son? I chose my Son, I didn’t feel like there was a choice, I thought; with enough time that I could repair the damage I’d done. But it was going to take time – I’d have to fix myself first.
Over time I had to cement that decision, and circumstances during that year kind of forced me down that path. Once the choice was made there was no going back, it was done. And the party involved very quickly dragged me off in the corner I’d chosen and that was that. It was a battle and they’d won. I didn’t see it that way, but they obviously did. The result is that I haven’t seen anyone from my family since, and my name was dirt, my mother made sure of that. Just like I knew she would. But I’ll never see my dad again.
So I had to ring my mum. I had no idea what reception I was going to get, but I had to make that call. I may be looking to have my balls chopped off and put in my handbag, but I definitely needed them swinging on that night. And I made sure they were, and I made that call. The news was correct. Mum had lost her right arm. At which point came the second shock, it was nearly a year before. No one told me.
Well, I have to say, I can’t finish writing this post. I’ve tried for 3 days and there’s so many other thoughts going around in my head it’s ridiculous – I have a whole other post to write on them and I need to do so. That news has literally been an Atomic Bomb under my feet, an Atomic Bomb with two blasts, the first knowing my Dad is dead and the second, knowing I’ll never get to say the things that I needed to say. I never thought things like this were real, or that they ever happened to me; but they damn well are.
I’m going write the next post, as that’s a whole different ball game.
I miss you Dad,