I hadn't expected to document the breakdown of my relationship after just over a year of marriage and of three years being together. This week sees me moving out, and myself and my wife beginning a separation. Where that leads, or what it will mean I don't know. I made some bad decisions, not in terms of marrying someone who I still believe is one of the nicest, most genuine people I've ever met, but it terms of how I dealt with the problems that I felt were there in our relationship. Given my mood and thought processes at this point in time, I wouldn't be expecting too many positive, smiley pictures over the incoming weeks. And yes - if it wasn't for my wife I wouldn't be taking photographs. She got me started, got me interested, taught me loads and pushed me into trying to develop my own eye and own style. All of my photography is down to her even if a lot of it is shit. Frankly, if it wasn't for her you wouldn't be reading this blog. She's still the best togger I know.
I'm going to get pasted no matter how I write this. If I'm too personal and intimate, someone will take offence. If I'm not open about the situation, it will offend someone else. If I write too much it's be wrong; if I don't write enough it'll be a fault. Is there a right way to write about bad shit that happens? I'm going to try to tread a middle road with this. If anyone is brave enough or angry enough to comment, that'd be fine with me. Right now, I can only record how I am feeling and thinking - both of which are really very messy at the present time. I can't write about or record how others are feeling, but I know there are strong feelings and a lot of hurt, disappointment and anger.
7/05/12
This might seem like a diversion, but it's not really. I had hoped to run the Belfast marathon relay with my three eldest children and one of my step daughters and had made arrangements some time ago to do this. Given what has been happening, my step daughter (quite rightly) decided that she couldn't take part. We then swapped over to the 9 mile walk, with Katie, Siobhan and Conor coming with me. It was wet, cold (hence the coffees and coats) but we finished in 2 hours 27 minutes. Since I spoke to my older children about the situation and separation, they have been both understanding and supportive, although I'm well aware that they are all to varying degrees angry and disappointed with me. They're good kids and I'm proud of them all.
8/05/12
This was the product of visiting my G.P. this afternoon, along with a two-week sick line from work. 14 Temezapam - with the instructions to take one when needed to help sleep. At the minute, I'd try anything to get more than a couple of hours sleep in a night. I normally wouldn't think about this, but lack of sleep is pulling my whole ability to function down and there's a couple of hard days coming up both physically and emotionally. At the minute I feel that I need to keep going but I know that at some stage my body will give up on me. My mood isn't great and my concentration is shot to bits but I'm not sure if that is due to what's happened, lack of sleep or general fatigue and anxiety; maybe a combination of all of them?
9/05/12
Today was packing day. Sad and depressing all round. Again, I suppose I can only speak for me and this situation was of my own making. I guess I've been thinking about the hurt that this has caused and the number of people who have been hurt. I'm not making much sense here. I feel I should write a review of temazapam having tried it last night. Gets you off to sleep very easily but I still woke up stupidly early, very anxious and was groggy for the first few hours this morning. Tomorrow is moving day.
10/05/12
Moving day. Two and a bit van loads of stuff. Tears, distress and hugs. Katie unpacked and sorted out stuff, Siobhan lifted heavy things like a trooper and Conor pitched in after school. At the minute, I don't know where I'd be without the three of them. Things like how to go to a Pay Point and buy gas and electric are all new to me. This is the living room in the new house before stuff got sorted. I've just figured that there are seven discreet rooms in the new house. Perhaps that's next week's blog idea.
11/05/12
Still not sleeping very well; still suffering huge levels of anxiety and the odd panic attack. Feel perpetually knackered and my left knee gave out this morning. Temazapm is like having a morning hangover without the fun beforehand. However, the day was brightened by the discovery that the picture of Sarah and I from the exhibition was published in both the local free Community Telegraph and the province-wide daily paper The News Letter. Sarah was delighted and loads of people got in touch to say how well she did.
I always wanted a greenhouse, although probably not under the current circumstances. This was partly what sold me on this house - especially after ten days of looking at rented accommodation that could best be described as soul-destroying shitholes. That and the fact that it was affordable and in a nice location, which helped. It's handy for my kids - all pretty much within walking distance. Fatigue and anxiety were the order of the day - everything today was a struggle. I broke the shower; I couldn't work the cooker; I couldn't find a clothes horse in B&Q even with the help of four members of staff and a cherry picker.
Called to see my dad today, who wasn't answering the door. Took a run over to Movilla Cemetery to visit my mum's grave and with Sarah's help we made a start on clearing away the moss and weeds from round the headstone. I don't visit the grave that much, and am not totally sure why I went today but there was that quiet and peace that I associate with cemeteries. My mum (for me) lives on in my memories and what is buried here is just an empty shell. Her personality, the good points and the bad, was what made her who she was. I still miss having her around and it saddens me to think that she never got to know Sarah, Ellen, Rory or even Conor who was born the year after she died. She adored her first two grandchildren, Katie and Siobhan and was always a big help with them. It took me two years after her death to stop having the thought of phoning her when something went wrong or went right with me or the children.
Anyway - my dad did answer the door when I called back. My sister also informed me today that I took her to see the Undertones in 1980 at the Ulster Hall. I recall the Undertones, but don't remember taking her to the concert. Bet my mother made me do it. She was that sort of woman.
12/05/12
I always wanted a greenhouse, although probably not under the current circumstances. This was partly what sold me on this house - especially after ten days of looking at rented accommodation that could best be described as soul-destroying shitholes. That and the fact that it was affordable and in a nice location, which helped. It's handy for my kids - all pretty much within walking distance. Fatigue and anxiety were the order of the day - everything today was a struggle. I broke the shower; I couldn't work the cooker; I couldn't find a clothes horse in B&Q even with the help of four members of staff and a cherry picker.
13/05/12
Called to see my dad today, who wasn't answering the door. Took a run over to Movilla Cemetery to visit my mum's grave and with Sarah's help we made a start on clearing away the moss and weeds from round the headstone. I don't visit the grave that much, and am not totally sure why I went today but there was that quiet and peace that I associate with cemeteries. My mum (for me) lives on in my memories and what is buried here is just an empty shell. Her personality, the good points and the bad, was what made her who she was. I still miss having her around and it saddens me to think that she never got to know Sarah, Ellen, Rory or even Conor who was born the year after she died. She adored her first two grandchildren, Katie and Siobhan and was always a big help with them. It took me two years after her death to stop having the thought of phoning her when something went wrong or went right with me or the children.
Anyway - my dad did answer the door when I called back. My sister also informed me today that I took her to see the Undertones in 1980 at the Ulster Hall. I recall the Undertones, but don't remember taking her to the concert. Bet my mother made me do it. She was that sort of woman.
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