Confessions of a Tempee

In my current confusion I have found myself temping almost full time.

I haven't completely squashed ideas of freelancing or redirecting into another career but I have to take one step at a time and do what is right for the moment.

Obviously the money ain't great, and there are moments when I find myself stuffing envelopes and wondering how this came about. But on the whole I am loving it. Loving the freedom. Loving the 9-5. Loving the walking home unburdened at the end of the day, watching office politics from a distance.

Most of all I am loving dipping into lives I didn't know existed. Finding the world ripe with eccentricity. My current 'boss' in the marketing department of a snack food re-saler is Alan Partridge. Not a bad man, but definitely existing via a reality all of his own.

On my first day he self-importantly took me into a meeting room to tell me all about the company. He then got into a battle with his loud, rumbling stomach, which kept on interrupting his speech. Rather than smile at the situation, or even ignore it - he got angry. At every rumble he gave a dirty look downwards, shifting furiously in his chair. There was even some clearing of the throat to communicate his displeasure, as daggers flew from his eyes. I tried to smile reassuringly, but to no avail.

In the end he stabbed his hand into a box in the corner (presumably stock supposed to be sent somewhere) and pulled out a chocolate bar which he proceeded to eat.

Later in the day I heard him on the phone to someone responsible for a cigarette advert. "We need to move this line to the bottom somewhere," he said. "The one that says smoking can seriously damage blah blah blah. It is a bit negative, don't you think?"

Kindness of a Stranger

The last few months have been resplendent with tears. I still do not understand it all but it seems we are moving forward now with a few scars.

There have been many days of walking and crying alone. Turning up to friends doorsteps in that state stopped being helpful. It was a state of mind I needed to deal with on my own. Save seeing friends for when I wanted to have fun or chats or be in life again. I can maybe talk about some of the tears in retrospect but I don't want to be seen as the forever crying friend, or be the forever crying friend.

There was one stranger who entered my solo space, though, who I will never forget.

After a yoga class, on the way to see a friend for coffee, I walked down by the sea. Something about the wild waves, twinkling sun and families having picnics made this wave of anguish overcome me from nowhere. I was crippled up, and found myself hunched up on a doorstep not knowing how to stop it, how to move on.

She came up and said "breathe this!". She held out a small silver perfume bottle. "Breathe deeply," she said, "have a squirt of this."

Puzzled, I nodded. She squirted, I breathed. I cried. It was all repeated. I may or may not have smiled thank-you. She said, "Go down on the beach and throw stones into the water. Really throw them. Really hard."

I staggered down. Felt a bit of a fool. But threw those stones. And felt calmer.

I don't know if she saw me.

I had a nice, normal chat with my friend.

Hallelujah

We are finally making tentative steps forward. An appointment at the IVF clinic. Thank god.

It is not yours to bear

I love a bit of telly costume drama on a Sunday night. It makes me feel comforted and warm like a fluffy dressing gown in front of the fire.
There's always plenty of old-fashioned values about helping out your neighbour, people really loving each other no matter what and some words of wisdom to bring tears to your eyes.
The words of wisdom offered up last Sunday have been reverberating with me all week. A recluse hides away in his grief refusing help. A woman tries to force help upon him. "I cannot bear your isolation," she says.
"It is not yours to bear," he says.
When H slips into his moods of fury and depression and locks himself into the world he is in at the moment - there is nothing I can do to reach him. And I cannot bear it. And he won't let me in to try and help. He doesn't let anyone in.
I know I have been difficult to cope with over this infertility business. I know it has obsessed me and made me very emotional at times. I know I have lost a lot of the joy he fell in love with me for.
But it is not all about me. He is using me as an excuse. His withdrawing is about him as much as me. Him not being able to cope, being confused, being scared, whatever. I still truely believe he wants to do IVF really, just wants to hide away and wait until he is ready and can cope.
But time is running out. My periods are getting worse and worse and I am convinced I am heading towards early menopause and I am terrified.
We are getting on so much better now, we are tender with each other and kind. There has even been a bit of laughter - of fun. Just so long as we don't mention the unmentionable.
I can't bring it up again yet. We are still learning to enjoy each other again as well as battling flu symptoms and the daily tiredness of life in winter. Forcing the issue again might send us reeling back to square one again. Especially if I inadvertedly pick the wrong time.
But the longer it is left dangling the lesser chance I have of ever having that longed for baby in my arms. And him. The lesser chance he has of being the wonderful dad I know he longs to be.
There are times when I just cannot bear it. And surely it is mine to bear too.

Grrrrrrrr

A friend phoned me up this morning in tears. She has been trying for a baby for quite some time and been enviably serene about it all but may have reached breaking point.
Her sister just told her she was pregnant and she found herself upset. I think what she was most upset about was being upset. She didn't want to have that reaction, she didn't want to be like that. She was happy for her sister. But also felt like it was unfair. She was older and she had been trying for ages. And the reminder hurt.
I tried to tell her she was allowed those feelings but I don't think I got through.
It makes me very angry that it is considered so unacceptable to have such feelings that people like us end up feeling like we are horrible and mean on top of everything else.
Grrrrrrr.

Limbo-Land

Again it has been a long time since I wrote.
Things with H completely broke down and we went through a very black time when we could not reach each other or communicate in any way.
Things feel better now in the sense that we are laughing together again. Cuddling, talking, being a couple. But I still do not understand what happened or what it all means for the future. We have not addressed any of things that made things fall apart, they are still unaddressable and unbearable.
We have not talked about the 'plans' side of thing and I do not know whether we are going to do the IVF or not. I do not think I should even broach the subject at the moment. I know I shouldn't. I think it would make things explode again. I have to be patient. wait in Limbo-Land and start living for the now.
This is hard on my head. I want to there to be a plan. But it can't be forced. We have to concentrate on the moment and us and getting better together slowly.

I am drinking quite a lot of alcohol as well which makes things better in a way but also makes me feel guilty and in despair.

Waiting for the Magic Show to End

Last night I came back from seeing a friend and H was sleeptalking again. "I am waiting for the magic show to end," he said.
I seem to have got into the habit of seeing everything as a metaphor recently and this was no exception.
It has been a long time since I last wrote. Christmas has happened and our trip to Australia to see H's family and things have gone very bad between me and him. Espedcially last weekend, when we got back, our first chance to talk about things.
It all feels very bleak at the moment. Am not sure if we can stay together after the things said and done. If we can stay together am not sure if we are strong enough to do IVF again - it seems to be tearing us apart. He says the whole process has brought out the worst in both of us.
But saying goodbye to all that wrenches at my heart.

When we were in Australia we went to a forest one day where Tingle trees grow. Tingles are one of the biggest trees on the continent but have relatively small root systems and grow in shallow soils. A lot of them had chimneys, or blackened hollows caused by fire or insect/fungal attack. These gaping holes tend to grow as the Tingle grows, until some were a gaping void of space which the tree then depends upon. Not only was it impossible for these hallows to close up, but it was part of the fabric of the tree that they exist.
Again, the metaphors.