On Surviving

Hey Ragers and Ragettes!!

One week until Christmas.  Can you believe it?  It's chilly here in Manchester.  Brrrrrr!!!  I'm wearing my jogging bottoms and hoodie.  My housemate's house isn't the warmest.  It's an older home.  He has 2 fireplaces and even with them both on and the central heating, it's not warm at all!!!

But this situation is very much temporary.  Save my cash so I can get my own place.  That is the plan!!

Well, work is going from strength to strength.  For the first time in my whole career I have been treated like an actual manager!!  They listen to me.  I place my orders and they trust me.  Last Thursday I spoke to the Commercial director and he said my probation is a formality.  They want me to stay on permanently.  They also want to send me to China for a week to see how the product is made and such.  And it's actually going to happen.  They are securing my Visa after the Christmas break.  I should be going over in March.

I actually love my job.  I can see myself staying here, in the company and this area for a long while.  It's very posh here.  I feel like a scruff most days.  But the village is quaint and cute.

My housemate has't tried anything funny recently.  I do give him the goddess eyebrow a lot so I think that he has taken my resting bitch face as a do not even think about it you pervert sign.  Which is fine with me.

Right now, I am surviving,  Jan has now left the UK for good and I know that I will never hear from him again.  How does that make me feel?  I don't know.

I feel empty.  Sad.  I have so much to be happy about but right now I want to cry and stomp my feet and scream.  I want to cry until I puke.  I want to see him one more time.  I want to take is hand and tell him that I miss him.  I want him to touch my face again and tell me that I am his princess.  I want to hit him, kick him, kiss, him, fuck him, scream at him, cry in his arms.  I want him to hold me and tell me that it will be ok.

I know it will be ok.  I know it will.  But getting to that point will take time.

The weekend before last I went to a spa weekend with my friend and her brat of a daughter.  There I was on Saturday morning waiting for my pedicure.  Simon messaged me (he has messaged me loads since I left.  It's ok we are keeping it civil and we are getting along better now than we were when we were together) and I burst into tears.  My heart actually hurt. I felt like I couldn't breathe.  There I was in my bathrobe, no pants on in this heavenly spa just crying. When the beauty therapist came out she had her plastered on smile and she kept asking, with that same fake smile, if I wanted her to stop the pedicure.  I ended up spilling everything to her. 

Her fake smile faded and I found a kindred spirit.  The week before she broke up with her boyfriend of 3 years.  They have a child together and in fairness her boyfriend was being a fuckwit.  He was acting irresponsibly. She also found some photos on his phone (he apparently was one of these sick bastards that likes to take photos up women's skirts)  and she called it a day.  (and rightly so!!!)  She was stronger than I was.  I was blubbing like a baby.  But it felt good.

I haven't really been able to talk about this with many people.  I spoke to Suzanne but I feel like a shithead for doing that.  She has so much on her plate now.  I bet she wants to punch me and tell me to get the fuck over it.  I'm trying, I really am, Suzanne.

The truth of the matter is that I feel like total shit.  I feel like I am a zombie who is just surviving day to day. 

I laugh at the right time, I smile at the right time.  I compliment at the right time.  Inside I am being shredded to pieces. 

My work husband has picked up on this.  He's been lovely.  He's been trying to make me laugh.  He gives me hugs.  He says I am here if you need to talk.  I've said it once and I will say it again, when I get the strength to get out and date again, I pray that I get someone like him.  Him and Suzanne have helped me so much.

So here I am.  In 2 days I fly back to my homeland to face my Italian Mama with her snarky comments and opinions on my life.  "Why are you always tattooing yourself?  Stop getting piercings.  When are you going to get married? Simon was such a nice guy why didn't you over look his bad points? (she actually said that once about an ex of mine that couldn't keep his dick in his pants)  And my personal favorite, "Betty, have you had surgery, your boobs look bigger than last time."  Mothers....

I am not looking forward to this but in some ways I need the hug from my crazy mama.  Her craziness is maybe what I need now to get through this.

Roll on 2018.  I cannot wait to leave this shit year behind and move on

Until next time, Ragers and Ragettes, keep your heads and standards high and your heels even higher

Lots of love

The Fabulous Betty Rage xxxxx