I have been thinking about the situation some more. I had a text from my sister yesterday, not mentioning my son's birthday, she still hasn't realised she missed it, and a belated birthday message from another person who'd missed the day.
I've not responded, I just wanted some time to think about how I feel and what I want, and I think what I've realised is that this place and these people have served their purpose or come to the end of their shelf life or however is best to describe it, and it's time to move on.
We moved here after we'd had a terrible time with false abuse allegations and I'd ceased all contact with my family. I can only see now looking back how utterly, utterly terrified I was and how I was running for cover. This is the place I grew up and, even though it's where my mum lives, it felt like the safest place to be - I knew every nook and cranny, I knew all the people (virtually all the same people I knew as a child still live here), I knew if she was on my doorstep she'd find it harder to cause problems because she couldn't fabricate and create situations as easily with people who knew me well and I think there is a saying that sometimes the best place to hide is out in the open and that's how it felt to me at the time. Added to that the landlord of my house is a friend of a friend, he rented the place to me cheaply without letting agents being involved and was happy to let me stay as long as I wanted to. Prior to that we'd moved 7 times in six years so not having to think about moving again helped as well.
In my head I thought that something amazing would happen to balance out the terrible stuff that had gone on - I'd meet the man of my dreams, or my son's health problems would magically vanish, or he'd get compensation from the hospital. I also had a thing in my head that someone around here would have some sort of proof of the sexual abuse - someone would have seen something, or heard something and be able to back me up or come to my rescue. It transpired that virtually everyone had known about the abuse but no-one had done anything, which actually made it worse for quite a long time. But anyway, as time's gone on none of those things has happened, but the amazing thing that has occurred is that I have healed, so much actually, and I realise I want a lot more from my friendships than I wanted eight years ago when I was so frightened and alone that I didn't really care who I spent time with or what I listened to them talking about or whether or not it was me that had to make all the effort to see them, I just wanted to have people around me and to convince myself that I was loved and I wasn't alone. When we were homeless I didn't care where we lived, I just wanted somewhere, it didn't matter how big or what condition it was in or where it was, it was just better than the car. I think I feel a bit like that about people now; I didn't care who, what or why, I just needed to feel like someone cared, however messed up it might be, but now, just as I'm looking for somewhere nice to live and I'm thinking about location and whether or not it has a nice feel to it, so I feel that I want different people around me and I don't want these people anymore.
I'm feeling a bit guilty because I feel like I used them. I'm going to work on that a bit because I think it's a bit misplaced. But I think it's time for me to stop feeling miffy that people don't do what I want them to do (!), draw a line under it and move forward.
Thanks for reading all my waffle
x
