A Stop in the Series.

This week has been an eventful one to say the least. Going back to work and into the chaos has played a part but it’s my letter series that has caused upset. It is always difficult receiving criticism and anger from others in response to my blogs, however, as I mentioned previously, we all have a right to expression. It is a shame that I have to defend this blog so often. I never want to cause distress but for once I need to be ‘selfish’ and put my feelings first. I was in a good flow at the beginning of the week but have been put off my stride. There is much I want to tell you but it will have to wait for another time.

I have one more letter to write.

It will be to my sister.

It is a letter I have deliberately been avoiding due to recent events. I have so much to say. I’m holding back. I will write my final letter to her on Tuesday, the reason for this will be made very clear in my post tomorrow so stay tuned for that.

A spot of good news now and I would like to congratulate my husband David on being accepted for a new job. He has been unemployed for a couple of months now which has been frustrating for the both of us. This job has come at a perfect time and it feels like some much needed good news. I am very proud of my husband. He has a tendency to self-criticise and berate himself but his strength of character and determination has prevailed so well done!

See you all tomorrow xx

“I’m really proud of you”

Are five words I have never heard from my parents. 

My father never saw anything I did as an achievement. I never made him proud. He saw me as “scum” and “fungus” so how could I ever make him proud? I tried; constantly. At home with chores, making sure I was focused and met his demanding standards, sometimes I attempted to outdo them, I rarely succeeded. Even if I did, he always found something to attack. There was always room for wrong.

I would go out of my way to cook for him, often creating exciting meals for him to try. This would only led to criticism however. 

“There isn’t enough salt in here is there?” or “Is this all you’ve made?”

I just couldn’t please him.

If I landed a good job his only comment would be, “Good”. 

‘Good’ for god’s sake, that’s all I got! 

My mother, growing up, only witnessed my sister’s achievements and my lord were there hundreds of those (!) Her achievements were flaunted and put on exhibition – mine were neglected and buried. They weren’t anything in comparison to hers. 

My mother has praised me on my ability to deal with things. Although I would class myself as sensitive and in touch with my emotions, I would not call myself emotional. My sister was and is emotional, allowing her feelings (especially negative) to control her actions although in no way would she ever describe herself as this. I tend to look at situations more calmly. I always have done. It just helps to cope.

I’ll never know if my father was proud of anything I did. Perhaps it’s better that way.