As you may have noticed...

...I'm not so good at updating this blog. Which sucks, because I really do love the layout I'm rocking. Haha. Anyway, if you want to keep up with me, check the links over on the right and visit my Mindsay blog. You will have to make an account to be able to read, and if you leave me a message and let me know who you are, I'll add you as a friend- since a lot of the entries I post are friends-only.

I don't think things could be more messed up even if I tried.

I think I am a shit-magnet. As I have said plenty of times before, I have the anti-Midas effect.

After writing that last entry, I spent some time in hospital, dying. Obviously I didn't die, because I am here. But I was pretty darn ill. The doctors figured out what was wrong with me, why I'd lost so much weight. I'm all diseased and stuff. I have Whipple's Disease. I'm okay now. Just got to take antibiotics for two years then I am good as new..

Christmas was uneventful, and pleasant enough. I didn't get out of hospital 'til the day before Xmas eve, so it was nice to actually be at home, since I was worried I'd be stuck in hospital on IV drips and stuff over the holiday. It was fine. Had all the family over at my house for christmas dinner, which was a bit too hectic for my liking, but aside from a bit of a panic attack it was good. The kids had a great time, which is the main thing. As long as the kids have a good christmas, that is all that matters.

Oh, but it doesn't end there. I was thinking it was time for things to settle down, to be able to recover from being ill, look forward to a great new year where things will be better. But I don't think things could be more messed up even if I tried. And we all know I have a knack for messing things up on a grand scale. This time it wasn't me. I found out something the day before yesterday.

My sister fucked my husband.

The two people who I trusted more than anything, the two people who I knew would always be there for me, have let me down and hurt me in the biggest way possible. It feels like everything I knew and everything that I leant on to get me through the hard times, it’s gone. It’s shattered, I don’t even know if it was ever there to begin with, maybe it was just an illusion, maybe I wanted to believe it was there.

He made excuses, said he never meant for it to happen, they were both distraught with worry for me and they had lost control. That he loves me more than anything and would never want to hurt me. But he has hurt me more than anyone ever could. He is the one I trusted two hundred percent to never ever hurt me. How very wrong I was and how very stupid I am. He was perfect to me. No-one else could even compare. Now no-one could ever be that bad, no-one could hurt me as much as that even if they tried. 

I saw him a couple of times yesterday. First when my brother took me over to the house to collect the kids. (I am staying with my brother for now) He kept trying to explain, asked me to stay to talk, I didn't want to be anywhere near him. He came over later in the evening too, again to try talk to me. I don't care what he has to say. There's nothing that can change or justify what he's done. I threw back at him my wedding rings, and a necklace he got me once that I always wear.

As for her, I don’t have any words for her. I don’t care if she dies tomorrow. I never want to see her again in my life. she has disappeared back to where she goes to university. Without bothering to tell mum just what shame shes brought to the family. She'll be back at some point without a doubt, and she better hope I don't see her.

I am ok, considering. I just feel drained of all emotion, its too much to be able to feel anything at all if that makes sense. My paranoid mind has made me suspect this before, but that is just my paranoid mind. To actually have to face this in reality, it is not really something I would ever have expected to have to do. I don’t think anyone who knows me would either. I just feel like I have been very very wrong for these last four years. Funny how the person you loved and trusted more than anyone else in the whole world can turn out to be a very different person, one who can hurt you more than you ever imagined.

Most of that was copied from my other blog because I just don't have the energy to write it out all over again. But that is pretty much it. *sigh* I don't know what happens next, but I could never go back to him. No way can I forgive him, or act like it never happened. It is over. I am having a hard time processing it and believing it, I think.

I haven't eaten properly in a long time

I spent two nights in hospital this week. Fun. I didn't collapse or anything but I was very ill, from lack of eating, lack of sleep, and lack of energy. Not energy as in "oohh, i've had a long day and I need to sleep" kind of energy, but actual energy-that-makes-me-keep-living kind of energy.

So I was in the hospital for a little while, they had me on an IV to get some nutrients back into my system. They did blood tests, but they didn't come back with anything. I still feel like utter crap, but there wasn't much else they could do for me.

I haven't eaten properly in a long time, and this is the main cause of it. On top of not sleeping, and the exhaustion of the last few months getting over mental illness and all, its made Nadia a weak girl! 

I weigh less than 100lbs. I practically have no body fat. I have no energy. Everything exhausts me. Trying to pick up my baby girl who weighs 10lbs takes all I have got. I have no appetite. I have to eat at least 3000 calories a day and gain at least 40lbs, but I have to force everything I eat because I'm just not hungry. I can never sit or lay comfortably because all I can feel is bones digging into me. I feel like my husband doesn't want to touch me or hug me because of this. 

No, I'm not anorexic or bulimic or starving myself. I'd love to eat. I want nothing more than to gain weight. I just have not been able to eat, for whatever reason that may be.

It pretty much sucks in every way that it could. I don't think I've ever felt so physically weak in my life. Before you complain about being overweight, thank your lucky stars you don't feel like THIS. I would do anything right now to be overweight. Hell, I once weighed practically twice what I do now. I complained about it at the time, but I'd give anything to be back at that now.

Just, generally, blah all round.

I should have learnt a long time ago to expect the unexpected

Just when you think my pseudo-dysfunctional family can't get any worse, I get the weirdest news I've ever heard. And I've had a lot of weird news in my lifetime.

My mother proclaimed to us, her four children and nine grandchildren, a few days ago: "I'm having a baby!"

Oh yes. I kid you not. My mum has gone and got herself a proverbial bun in the proverbial oven.

It's very... bizarre, to say the least. When you're grown up and married with children of your own, you don't really expect to be told you're going to have a baby brother or sister. Although I should have learnt a long time ago to expect the unexpected, so maybe that's where I went wrong.

I'm happy for her, without a doubt. She is happy. It's what she and her partner want, so it's all good, it's all gravy, it's all coming up roses.

She's 45, so whilst her biological clock is ticking its last ticks, she's not ridiculously too old to be procreating. She blames me and my rather large brood for making her broody. I told her she can 'borrow' mine whenever she wants, she could have saved herself the bother of getting knocked up, mi ninos es su ninos and all of that. 

Alas, no. Come April I'm going to be a big sister. And my children are going to have a newborn aunt or uncle.

Surreal or what?

Uh, what was I saying?

I have this really bad short term memory problem.

I checked my blog earlier and did a little yay of excitement because I saw I had two new comments. When I checked the comments to see what they were and who they were from, lo-and-behold... they were from ME. Sigh. They were the responses to previous comments I'd left. Only about thirty minutes before.

And just now, for the first time in forever, I had some inspiration to write a poem. A couple of lines popped into my head from nowhere. I got excited, and opened my word processor to jot it down. By the time the bloody thing opens, I'd forgotten completely what those couple of lines actually were.

I do it all the time. I'll walk into a room and completely forget why I'm there. So I'll go back to where I come from, and about two hours later I'll wonder why I didn't do the thing I forgot I was supposed to be doing.

It really stinks, you know. I'll forget my........ uh, what was I saying?

On the flipside, there's things I don't want to remember, but they won't go away. Sounds, music, noises, anything repetitive gets jammed in my head for a long time and I can't get rid of it. I'll end up humming it or tapping my hands or feet to it. I guess that it is a part of my illness, but even so, why can't the useful things get wedged into my memory bank instead?! Instead of clucking my tongue to the sound of a car alarm outside, why I can't I repeat over and over these mysterious poetry lines that suddenly appeared/disappeared? That poem could have been a masterpiece, and I'll never know.

Damn.

'You can't expect to walk from Oblivion and not feel sick and dizzy.'

[lets see how many people read this, shall we, before I make any grand promises to update regularly]

So, the last few months have been somewhat of a roller coaster. A particular roller coaster. There's a theme park we have here, Alton Towers. Its most infamous ride is Oblivion. Except for one or two turns in the road, it starts off pretty smooth. Then without warning it plummets damn near vertically into a seething black hole, which you eventually come out of but there are still a lot more twists and turns in the road than there was before. I think that is the best analogy of the last few months that I could give. The name is fitting too. Oblivion. 

Now, I mean, things are much better. Thousands of miles apart from where I was just a few weeks ago. I'm doing my best to keep steady and so far everything is going good. After the couple of months I've had, you can't expect to come out and be perfectly fine. You can't expect to walk from Oblivion and not feel sick and dizzy.

I'm not going to go into details. Some of you may know little parts of it. A couple of hospital stays ensued, drugs, a suicide attempt, acute psychosis. Some deeply disturbing things. Alas, its in the past, and I don't feel it is important to discuss right now. The important thing is that I am recovering from those incidents and working on putting them behind me. There's been the odd one or two days lately I haven't felt great, but what can you expect? The majority of days have been really good, and I hope to keep it that way. I have past experiences to learn from, and now a greater understanding of my personal signs and symptoms and I should know better when I need intervention. I have medication that seems to be working for me, and so it's all fine.

Home life is good. Things between me and the hubby are good. The children are all home with us and they are all doing well. At the minute we are trying to find a bigger house, because we outgrew this one long before the twins arrived. It is proving quite difficult, the property market is not great at the minute. I am tempted to move far away from here... to the seaside... but realistically, we need to stay close by because we have family around us, and I guess I need that.

For your information, yes, I have been on Oblivion. It sucks, frankly. It lasts literally about 20 seconds. Its too fast to really know what's going on. You just feel like you might die. Haha.