You cut some strings and everything will fade away
You tried to use some physical connection
There’s nothing left for you to say
By the way
We used to be inner circle
I don’t understand
‘1998, Chet Faker’
|The Sheriff’s doppelganger…Chet Faker.|
As I have previously mentioned in various other blogs, I tend to have a wide range of musical influences. All of which can help create a blog filled with laughter, mirth and hilarity that leaves you smiling and warm. However at the same time, a simple quick flick of a tune or musical artist, the post can become one of darkness, sadness and often leaves you wondering if I need a cuddle. Wanting to dial for support both physically and emotionally and you’re in need of finding something funny to replace something that was lost.
Lately, I have been finding myself sitting down and pondering what the very essence of my being is. All the while trying to fix and escape from a relationship that could only be deemed as a disaster in the making. As a result, having found myself returning to the same person over and again, I hoped that listening to the cool tones of Chet, I’d find the answers to all of my questions. These questions where not only from myself but also belonged to those who surround me on a daily basis. I found that Chet was able to keep up with his end of the bargain of being available 24/7 and ready to sing at any given moment of the day/night.
Now the question is, was I able to keep up my end of the bargain?
One evening, I felt the cold brush of reality happen and there was no way I could stop it from happening. The glasses that are given to everyone at some stage in their life, otherwise known as Rose Tinted Glasses, were ripped off my face and away from my eyes. This motion was not done by myself when I awoke expecting to smell roses but rather was greeted with the smell of death and decay. When I opened my eyes and blinked because I wasn’t used to the bright sky of shooting stars and millions and millions brilliant white, twinkling lights; I glanced down at my glasses and frowned.
My once beautifully designed sunglasses that looked like sunflowers, laid in a broken and twisted heap at my feet. When I let out my breath that I had been holding, I glanced up to see who had ripped them off my face and glared at a little man dressed in naval whites. Following him down the hallway from the spare bedroom where the bears reside, looking over those who slumbered in the bed and into the dining room, I took a seat at the kitchen table as he looked over the bottles. “Glass of wine or a gin and tonic, my dear?” he asked, not bothering to look at me.
Having made me a gin and tonic to his specification, he settled down in his spot at the kitchen table and glanced around the room. Nodding his head, his gazed returned to my face and he picked up his beer. I knew this wasn’t going to be an ordinary talk of the mill about the weather and how uni had been going but rather this was going to be a stern talk about how I was cocking up my life. I also knew he wasn’t coming to see me and discuss what my options were. All the while not admitting that I needed to watch my back and tread carefully on the subject at hand. But before I awoke from my dream with a start, he stated as he put his empty beer bottle near the trash can, “You know what to do, my dear. Listen”.
Sure enough, I soon started getting answers in all forms of opinions and some of these opinions weren’t your ordinary mill of the press kind either. Rather these thoughts, feelings and statements came from depths that could be only described where wisdom, knowledge and personal experience were located. When I wasn’t talking to Lois or Miss Jerry about my issues in my life, I was getting advice from my brothers and Father but also from The Sheriff.
My family and darling beloved friend’s opinions set the ball of change in motion and thus essentially causes me to step out from whatever strange hold had been placed around me. And that I realised I would actually have to stand up for my rights, beliefs, faith but also for myself. As a person but also for who I am.
I believe this is when I should mention to you my Dearest and most faithful Reader, that I had been secretly seeing someone for the past few months. Surprise Surprise I know. But before you start becoming upset with my decision about holding onto this information, I will give you a reason as to why I haven’t told you. Until now that is.
When I originally stated to Lois that I would start dating in the new year of 2015 and actually settle down with Mr. Darcy, I wouldn’t blog about it. Well let me rephrase that if you will. I wouldn’t blog about it right away in the beginning but I would slowly start to incorporate my life as someone’s partner into my blogs. And it would only happen when I felt comfortable with the idea of allowing my readers, friends and extended family members know about my dating life. But overall, I felt comfortable with the the idea, my relationship wasn’t going to last for a blimp in history and this person was comfortable with the idea of being spoken about.
Because we all know what it is like to hear about being spoken about in conversations but to read about yourself is a completely different context. And like all those geniuses state at university, ‘once you put something on the internet, it is forever on the internet’.
And this time it was going to be different from my previous relationship where I spent two years, waiting and hoping. Praying that the man I loved would wake up and realise he had the best damn catch in the town of Rednecks. When he didn’t wake up from his dream land of perfection, I would often vent my frustration, bitterness and joy in some cases in my blogs. And as a result, my relationship soon became public knowledge, entertainment and everyone formed their own opinion.
My relationship with The Wolf had not only become public knowledge to those who resided in our private homes but also within the small community. Everyone I knew who lived there and worked with, had eventually formed their own opinion as to how they thought we should be living our lives. When we should be getting engaged, how long our engagement should be married. Not to mention, when it was the correct time to have our children and if we were going to be moving.
So in that moment, The Wolf and I’s relationship wasn’t our own. And since I was blogging about us, my relationship was open for you, my darling Reader, to read, form attachments and opinions about how we should have handled issues, each other amongst many other things.
In the end, I blogged about my issues whether or not I stated them in clear English. But it takes a brainy person to read between the lines and know that whatever I was writing about was coming from a personal experience. Not to mention when I decided that our relationship had come aground, I wrote a blog titled ‘It’s Not Me…..It’s You!‘ Sitting here now, I think that it was not necessarily the smartest thing to do at that time but I was grieving for something that I once had and for the moments we both shared. But in the end, it was a way of forging on in life and leaving the bad things that had occurred in the past. And bringing the positive things I had learnt such as loving and trusting someone into the next relationship.
Now you can see why I would want to keep this information private.
This time, I felt like I wanted to keep the information to myself. So I decided to not post anything about my experience being someone’s girlfriend, both on my personal media websites and also in my blog. Hell, I even kept this information so secretive even Lady Blacksnot didn’t know about my extra curricular activities. The woman who knows all of my faults, bumps and scrapes, didn’t have any clue as to what Mrs Blackbutt was getting up too. The final reason for not having said anything was that I was secretly enjoy the fact that for once, I wasn’t broad casting everything. Also I had a funny feeling it wasn’t going to last and it was going to be a rather short lived relationship.
Sure enough, my Gibbs gut instinct was 100% correct. And we know by now that when my Gibb’s gut kicks in, everything is going to hit the fan pretty quickly which it did last Monday night.
It originally started the Thursday before when I didn’t attend uni due to feeling unwell. Safe to say, the dizzy spells I experienced last year were slowly making their return. In that moment, I decided it was safer for me to stay home. Particularly in case I decided to go head diving down the steps in my lecture hall and end up sprawled in front of my lecturer’s feet, unconscious. Now having progressed from wanna-be fainting spells to full blown hanging out with my friend, the toilet and heaving my stomach contents up, I was ready to crawl into my bed and call it a weekend.
Instead I spent most of the weekend curled up in bed, with my blankets tucked up to my chin or down near the end of the bed, crying and defending myself. All the while fighting off a serious temperature and wondering if I was dying of the heat or freezing to death. Hoping and telling myself that I was going to be okay by Tuesday since I had classes to attend, I made plans to have dinner in the city. And spend the evening not shivering or wanting to be violently ill. It was in those few minutes, the mind link between Lady Blacksnot and myself kicked into gear and I received a message.
“What are you doing St. Pat’s Day? Last year was epic. Love to have another round of Irish Dancing’.
If this had been a friendship and someone had said that to me, I would have cut all ties there and then and walked away without an issue nor a glance over my shoulder. Instead, while crying loudly because I was stuck in a shit rut, he was turning out to be a massive pain in my arse and a control freak at that; I decided to be a naughty girl. And put together a brilliant fool proof plan into action and stated that I was off to have an interesting evening. Consisting of four things that I required right in that moment that no doubt caused shit to hit the fan even more and a rather possessive boyfriend, demand that I text and call him when I got home.
The four things that I needed the most were: Chet Faker. Vodka. Chocolate Cake. Lady Blacksnot.
Having confirmed with LBS that we were both available, I had important shit to tell her or rather confess in my case; I throw back the bed covers and felt the wheels turning in my head. If I didn’t have university the next day, LBS didn’t have work and I wanted to wake up with a pounding headache, I would have suggested hitting DUB for a little experiment session. That would have happened after confiscating my phone so I wouldn’t randomly drunk dial someone up. With the intentions of wanting to discuss everything that had been happening in the world, no matter what the time was.
Instead, I spent the next hour after confirming our plans getting ready to hit the town, eat cake, be a woman and have confession time. Not to mention discuss what lack of sex life I was leading, how I could possibly be dubbed as a reborn again virgin and find out if LBS had gotten laid within the last five months. But also so we could rehash as to what had been happening in our lives since we hadn’t been speaking to one another as LBS was leading a double and exciting life as a full time bitch and I was angry at her.
Now having stood in the same spot for twenty minutes running every piece of clothing article in my head and making outfits, I threw my hands up in the air. It was in that moment I noticed I had left my computer on and that The Sheriff had popped up for a quick chat. Like a cat slowly smiling at the thought of having just gotten that annoy canary, I pounced and asked for advice as to what I should wear. The Sheriff being a super hero otherwise known as Batman, asked where I was going and what I had already picked out. Agreeing that jeans and a tee shirt would be great options for going out for cake at eight thirty at night, the dilemma of picking which boots seemed to effect me the most. With a little hand and suggestion that the tall boots would go better than my ankle booties, I thanked The Sheriff and left for a night of fun and laughter.
It was in those moments, I had truly forgotten what it was like to be in the presence of Lady Blacksnot and what effect she had on me. Ladies and Gentlemen of Stairway to Nurses Heaven, LBS didn’t even need to raise an eyebrow as I was spilling my guts. I sounded like I was confessing to having murdered someone and while murdering them, I thoroughly enjoyed doing it. Spending the next thirty minutes spilling the beans as to what had been happening, the fact I was dating someone and I hadn’t told her because I was angry at her for past discrepancies, we drove around South Brisbane.
Like Lois stated once when we were discussing my friendships with those who have come into my life over the past twenty odd years, Lady Blacksnot is my savior. As much as both of us have other friends and we can act like idiots in our moment of time, we both continue to come back to the other. Especially when times are bad and we both need the other’s support, comfort, words of wisdom and emails based upon sex. Inappropriate messages containing tiny little penises and each other’s love but also when the timing is correct, a stern telling off for being a moron.
Not to mention I send her inappropriate messages telling her to save a horse and ride a cowboy. Complete with the: “you go girl, ride that cock!” caption.
Least to say while I was spilling my guts of everything that I had been holding a secret for the past three months, I collapsed tiredly against the passenger seat and stared dumbly out the window. It is safe to say, Dearest Reader that I could feel the shock and horror rolling off from Lady Blacksnot as we drove to find that damn cake that was calling out for both of us. Finally, shaking my head and bracing myself to bear the brunt of LBS’ anger at not being informed, I was shocked to see that she wasn’t angry but rather horrified at what I had just said to her. Before it turned into remorse, anger and bitterness before the cold slate of ‘Bitchless Lady Blacksnot’ appeared.
It was in that moment, I heaved a sigh.
I can honestly say there is nothing worse, Dearest Reader, than having an emotional Lady Blacksnot. This boils down to Lady Blacksnot simply does not do feelings at all and to have her feel emotion, is something of a foreign rarity. As a result, you don’t know exactly what to do or feel in that moment. In fact, we often joke about her being dead, cold and emotionless while I am the energized bunny who can feel everything from grief to joy and love.
This is why I felt relief when I saw the cold calculated killer otherwise known as Lady Blacksnot appear. This is the woman who is a calculated killer in the courts of law, drives a red Ferrari, is married to Lord Blacksnot III for who she only uses him for his title and land estates in Ireland, Wales and Spain. And when it comes to eating breakfast, doesn’t have a normal meal of cereal and milk but rather prefers to swing her legs up onto her work desk and spits out the dead body of a man she had captured.
The poor sucker had fallen for her charm and spells only to realise that it was too late.
So after spending a few hours discussing life and its hourly pleasures, or in my case learning disasters, we parted our ways with the promise of doing it again soon. Having settled down to take off my boots and allow my throbbing ankle to settle, my phone started calling and I rolled my eyes while sliding my finger across the screen.
Having a rather awkward conversation because this person wanted to know who I had been really seeing, what I had discussed and if we were still seeing one another, I bid farewell and crawled into bed. In that moment after having stuck two pillows over my face, I yelled into them before flopping onto my bed and proceeded to glare at the ceiling. Like it was the ceiling’s fault my evening had gone from being awesome and carefree to shit and I had been sucked back into hell again.
Rolling over, I muttered to myself that I would get the answers I bloody well deserved as I listened to the faint strands of Chet Faker playing. Over the course of the next week, I was being asked questions on a daily basis and could have run my own telephone company. This was due to the amount of phone calls I was making back to The Little White House and taking a result from various people offering me advice. Not to mention, I was replaying certain sentences that felt like that had become part of my daily living and thought of responses to them while travelling into University.
“You do realise that he is not your Mr. Darcy. He is coming soon”.
“If he can’t present himself to your family than what gives you the right to be judged by his?”
“At least Wolf came and stood face to face with your family members and for that we respected him. Hell, we respect The Sheriff even more than this dick”.
“He sounds like poison, RUN!”
As a result, I stood back and lived in limbo land for the week and watched my life from a stranger’s point of view. All the while listening to my Gibb’s gut instinct which was telling me that something wasn’t right here. And I soon discovered what that factor or rather, factors were.
If I had opted to stay in this relationship, I would have been slowly molded into someone or rather something that I wouldn’t have known was me when I eventually woke up from this dream. That’s if I ever did wake up and take off the cotton wool that had been pulled over my eyes, ears and head. Instead of standing there with hair that reaches in the middle of my back, that I have proudly grown after having short hair since the age of twelve, I would now have ridiculously short hair that wouldn’t suit me or my appearance. But this hair cut would benefit what my partner wanted and desired. Not to mention, I would now resemble something of a Stepford Wife, who walked around with her nose in the air. On my earlobes, fingers and placed around my neck like a choker of ownership would be diamonds and pearls.
I would only associate with those who were of higher class, born and bred with a silver spoon in their mouth and attend only the best private schools. My conversations would be based upon the newest Chanel handbag as it was of great value, classic piece of art and I simply had to have it. In the end, I’d no longer be the woman who is curious as to what life is really about. The adventures one can possess and hold with a great book in tow as I slip into the world of fantasy and dream. Not to forget, discovering the benefits of how amazing her family are. Overall, I wouldn’t have the relationship I once had with my siblings because I chose not to listen to my instincts and what they were telling me. And in return, turned a blind eye as to what was happening before me and to me.
The simple comments of ‘Why won’t you change?’; ‘You’d look much better with short hair.’; ‘Are you ever going to cut your hair?’ and my personal favourite, ‘I admit that I am jealous that you and The Sheriff are friends. I don’t understand why you love him as I should be the only one you love. Because I am your partner’ all started to build up.
It was in that moment of walking along the Brisbane River that I stopped in my tracks and turned to look at this person. Never in my life have I had a boyfriend tell me who I could and couldn’t be friends with and then demand, I only love one person. I was horrified, shocked and overall disgusted, I was being told to get rid of my friends. My friends who have helped shape the person I am today. All because he couldn’t deal with the fact I had a male friend. A male friend that I loved whole heartedly and would protect with my life. A friend that was someone of worth, who respected my wishes, supported this relationship from the beginning. But also the fact that The Sheriff respected me for the woman I am and not what I could bring to the table.
He also respected the fact that I am Scarlett O’Chunky and he amongst many others, couldn’t and wouldn’t stop me from being me.
It was in that moment of him proclaiming that I should have called him the night before to ‘ask‘ what I should be wearing, I felt my family/friends both near and far unite and support me. Because in that moment, I decided that I was going to walk away from this relationship. And I wasn’t going to have any hang ups. When I made this decision, I realised I was walking away from an emotionally damaging and abusive relationship. Which would have been based upon what he wanted, desired, craved and needed. He would use sex as a form of punishment to keep me there rather than an enjoyable experience of love and support between two people. I would never get married to him but rather would be declared, if I were lucky enough, to be his life partner.
I would have to convert from believing in God to being an Atheist because science cannot prove nor supply the information that God, Jesus or Mother Mary truly existed. My relationship with him would never be as strong and powerful as his relationship with his older brother was. I would be constantly judged and told to be quiet because I was from the south of the river and therefore hang out with the whores and drunks of society. All the while being reminded that I would never be as good as him because I came from a family of hard workers and I wasn’t born in higher middle class family but rather I came from from an ordinary middle class family background.
And let me tell you something Reader of mine, there is nothing fucking ordinary about my family. Nor are we bloody middle class workers. We are fucking royalty and for that, we should be respected. For We Are The O’Chunkys’. And that factor right there was something he didn’t understand nor want to wrap his head around. Because wherever I want to go in life, I continue to have the support from both my family and friends.
Dearest Reader, I can honestly I feel happier and blessed in life because I can say I have walked away with my dignity, pride and self respect. But most all, I walked away with my freedom. As a result, I got talking to Lois as any daughter would do about shit like this and Lois sent me an email she once sent to my brother, Frodo. I read the email twice before getting up from the table and paced a few times before sitting back down to read it for the final time. It was than that I knew what I wanted to talk about, get this off my chest and start with a fresh new mind as to what I truly want to write about.
Because we all know that I haven’t been writing much. And whenever I do write and upload, the blogs seem to be stilted in some way as I haven’t been feeling the juju. But now, I have a clear head, enough time in the day to write a blog post fit enough for me to upload and for you to read. And at the end of the day, get a message a cross that I think would not only benefit myself in the future when I return to read what I have posted and said but also might benefit you. Don’t ask me how but it might and for that, you are more than welcome.
Now as to these words of wisdom that Lois shared with me this afternoon, I believe they had a purpose which was leaving a dead end and abusive relationship to learn what freedom is. And how it can benefit one’s head, heart and soul. Without further ado, here are Lois’ words:
“Freedom is NOT running away but standing still and taking a deep breathe and letting go of all the feelings to the Universe to deal with on your behalf. YES, it does require supreme strength to let go and actually NOT thinking it is all up to you to sort out.”