When the rug got pulled out from under me - by Anonymous

I was asked by a friend to write something about my life, I didn’t really know why they were interested. I’ve been through a divorce, with kids involved, I struggled with it, I got through it, why does anyone want to know about my struggles? But my friend was insistent. What I’ve written is a personal account of what I felt at the time, if you ask the others involved you’d likely get a different perspective, but this is my story as I lived it and the struggle I had.

I was married to a wife I loved, we had two young boys whom we loved.

I was married to a wife I loved, we had two young boys whom we loved. I had secure a job, it paid okay, I sort of enjoyed it, as a result we just about had enough money to live on, a mortgage but no other debts. I was doing okay, I was providing for my family. My wife and I would argue, we weren’t as close, nor physical as we’d been before the kids were born, there were problems and tensions between us, but I guessed that’s what happens in marriages, it would get better, I was doing okay. From the outside it probably looked good, if you’d have asked me I’d have said it was good.

the veneer of ‘truth’ was stripped away

Then the rug got pulled out from under me and the veneer of ‘truth’ was stripped away. My wife wanted to separate, wanted a divorce. All the emotions and practicalities overwhelmed me, I’d failed, I was no good, I hadn’t done okay. I felt numb. And that was just the first night.

Over the next weeks the numbness was penetrated by the practicalities and pain; I was going to have to leave the house that I was paying for, where would I live? I would have to leave behind the boys I was raising, I had to admit I’d failed, the world would see I had been living a lie, I couldn’t sort this out.And then the real hurt kicked in. My wife admitted to seeing another man, he was providing what she needed (although I was still paying the mortgage and putting the kids to bed most nights), that made me feel I really wasn’t any good, I was useless, I’d been cast aside.

My life was now a complete train wreck, and I HURT

Suicide now there’s an option, that would stop the hurt, the pain, the shame, it was a way out. But no, words from a young boy, “Daddy I don’t like it when you cry, I love you”, that young boy, who had no idea what was going on in my head at that moment in time, he silenced that call to the “way out”. But the hurt and pain and hopelessness were still there. And to top it off we were now in debt, my wife admitted to over spending on ‘things’. My life was now a complete train wreck, and I HURT.

At some point I was asked by a bloke I knew, but not well, if I’d like to go to the pub, told him I couldn’t afford it, I didn’t have any money. No problem I’m buying he said. It didn’t feel right, I didn’t want to owe anyone anything else, but he insisted, I went. We talked, not relationships or divorce or infidelity, the talk didn’t judge me or point out my weaknesses or what I should be doing, we talked rubbish, we talked about stupid stuff, bloke stuff, favourite film stuff, we laughed, yes I laughed and I felt normal for 90 minutes, the serious talk would come later, I felt like a human being. Stuart I will always love you for that, it was a step back from the edge.

Christmas was crap, I hadn’t moved out, why should I, it wasn’t my idea to separate, I wasn’t the one who wanted a different life, why should I give it up so she could fulfil a dream? She moved out and in with her new man.

Stuart continued to be an oasis of normality, talking rubbish and having a beer, I was still numb, hurt and without hope.

I was still numb, hurt and without hope.

I remember going food shopping with my sons in tow, being practical, putting a brave face on it and getting on with life. One of the boys accidently lost a toy behind some shelving, we couldn’t get to it, I couldn’t get his toy back, it was a tiny thing, but it was such a massive thing, the hurt and upset in his face, that fact I couldn’t make it better, I was still failing, I wanted to walkout, scream shout, cry, I hurt! The boys cried, they hurt, I was failing.

Somehow I got through the checkout paid for the food and drove to Stuart’s house, banged on the door, I was desperate. I let out all the hurt, all the pain, he listened, he put his arm around me and held me, shit this isn’t what blokes do, but it should be, having someone there to talk to, to open up too. And that wasn’t the only time. I wish I hadn’t of left it until I was so raw, so hurt before I cried out for help but I thank God there was someone there to cry out to when I did.

I found my faith

Seemingly all at the same time I found my faith in Christ and other people got involved in supporting me, I started to feel hope. With their insight and the peace that my new faith bought, I came to realise I couldn’t fix it, I couldn’t get ‘that’ life back and that gave me hope. I needed to head somewhere else so that’s what I tentatively started to fight for. I got knocked back, I was still hurting, still raw, I couldn’t do it on my own, I still needed support.

Time went on, wife moved back in, I hoped briefly it was to see if the relationship might work again… but no, perhaps a solicitor had pointed out she had very little ‘rights’ if no longer in the family home, it was another kick in the guts. So the custody battle commenced, who got the house, the kids. I got more pain and hurt, with a large side of hate and anger that grew and grew. But I vowed to myself never in front of the boys, never would I try to turn them against their mum, they still needed her. The injustice started, the cards seemed to be stacked against me, I wasn’t going to be allowed to look after my own kids!

It took 18 months and eventually I moved out of the ‘family home‘ into a house which I never thought I’d be able to afford, I had to leave the boys behind, but only for 10 days out of 14. And all the time I had blokes I could talk too, without them I wouldn’t have made it.

And all the time I had blokes I could talk too, without them I wouldn’t have made it. 

And maybe that’s what my friend wanted me to see, that I did get through it. It took time, it took effort, it took support, it took talking and friends and tears and a hug or two, it took me outside of my comfort zone, outside of what men normally do with their emotions. I didn’t grow a pair, I broke down, I had to ask for help. But in doing so I got hope back, I got a life back. By talking to one bloke I was able to lay the tracks for a new life, one in which I’m happy, content. I have a new partner who makes me happy and I know she feels the same way about me - well at least some of the time. I have two sons I see regularly and who bless me with what they are now achieving, I’m proud of them.

Anonymous 

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You can get in touch via the website www.themanshed.org.uk/home/contact-us/, or email us at talk@themanshed.org.uk.

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Living with Parkinson’s Disease - by Matt Bourne

It was as I walked across a field near Lingfield Park Racecourse that I shook my hands to dry them, that I felt my left arm was not right, it felt kind of heavier, not shaking the like the right one. So I decided to see my GP when I got home as the trapped nerve was bugging me. It was not a surprise to me that my shoulder might be wonky, I had made my share of hits in rugby as the smallest forward in a small pack.

So about a week later I was at the doctors seeing a Locum Dr. I walked in to see her, told her about my arm feeling weird and mentioned I it shook a bit after a game. The Dr did a reflex test and a couple of other things, then she said “I am sorry, but I think you have Parkinson’s  Disease”. I was shocked and despite my efforts to be strong, I burst into tears. How could I a 30-year-old super fit, just married man have an old person’s illness?  The rest of the time with the GP is hazy. She told me she used to work with PD sufferers, so knew the symptoms and she knew who was best in her opinion to see me at hospital. This instant diagnosis was actually very good as I now know many sufferers for whom it took many years of no diagnosis. So I was lucky.

How could I, a 30 year old super fit just married man have an old person’s illness?

I went home and decided I would not tell my wife until it was confirmed I was scared how it would affect us both and the fear of being somehow weak and it being my  fault…this plan lasted about 2 minutes before I cracked and told Suzie. After lots of tears and a trip into the world of medical websites we decided to not tell anyone other our parents and brother and sister, until the diagnosis was confirmed. This confirmation it done by elimination as the only way to confirm PD is by brain autopsy, a thing I was very much against trying. 

It took a year during which time  I played some of my most enjoyable rugby knowing it would my last season I realised I was being affected by PD as I was after the 1^st league game  where I subbed and unfortunately was not in a good frame of mind when I came on as a replacement  with 20 minutes to go and was sin binned with 10 minutes to go and lucky to have been binned not red carded. My last game was a nonleague game for a mixed 1^st and 2^nd team squad again I was lucky as this gave me a chance  to play with my 4 best mates at the club one last time.

I also decided after my diagnosis that I would keep my condition from most people just family to know but how to tell them. I told my brother first and as usual he was great a mix of common sense and compassion in a way only he can do. Telling ny mum and dad was horrible in my head but so good once done. The love I got from my family is still as strong as ever and gives me the will to remain positive and determined to keep on doing as much as I can. The story is the same where Suzies parents and sister are concerned, I am so lucky.

“S### happens”

Telling work and friends was hard to so I kept it for a long time, I had a cryptic chat with my boss just saying I was dealing with a large issue so if I lost it then I had a good reason.  My closest friends I told Michelle (known as Dave) was so disappointed that I was not having a baby that she really made me think on that. I have found friends reactions varied, Adam just asked “are you going to die?” Nick shrugged and said “S### happens”. But some friends seem to have found it hard to accept the change in me from  action man to sluggish man. But the great majority just treat me as normal.

The response was “Nah we’ll just shout run Forrest run”

Why was I afraid to tell people? With hindsight it was daft but at the time I feared that telling people somehow weakened me and that they would treat me differently. To my friends, probably only in my head only I was the rough and tough rugby player who they looked to when they needed help or there was trouble. I certainly defended my friends when they needed it. Now I would not be that person. Of course, they treat me differently, yet the same humour and friendship still underpins the  friendships. For example, I went to see a game at the Madstad at a time when I was suffering from a festigant gait basically I would walk faster and faster until I either ran into something or I fell over. I thought best I warn Pete and Nick and ask if they could just get  in front of me and slowdown as  a brake.  The response was “Nah we’ll just shout run Forrest run”

I do go to some dark places, but I know the best thing to do is talk with someone…

Since the diagnosis over 15 years have passed  I am no longer working which gives the ability to manage my day to get the best out of it plus do things I ned to slow down the progress  yoga  and table tennis are my two-exercise program and I am definitely a better more understanding person than I would have been without PD. I do go to some dark places, but I know the best thing to do is talk with someone  it always amazes me that when I vocalise a problem it always seems to shrink.

Matt Bourne

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You can get in touch via the website www.themanshed.org.uk/home/contact-us/, or email us at talk@themanshed.org.uk.

welcome! Please feel free to make comments and ask questions here. All comments will be verified by The Man Shed (TMS) before they are posted. Please keep your comments clean. Those which fail our house rules may be removed. If you see a post that is inappropriate, alert us by using the "Report Abuse" link and we will act accordingly.          

A place of no hope! - by Graham Foxwell

This picture may seem blank to you…..

But actually it's not!

It is a picture of a dark place, a pit of despair, a place of pain, a place of no light..... a place of no hope!

Back in early 2000......my beautiful youngest daughter was critically ill in hospital, fighting for her life.

She spent the best part of 5 years in several hospitals, some of which were 30-40 miles away from where we live. And at other times when she was at home, we cared for her 24hrs day 7 days a week. There were many times we thought we were going to lose her.

Also during these 5 years, my eldest daughter went through a very difficult and toxic divorce. 

The company I worked for, were making redundancies, and my department was earmarked as ‘at risk’! 

My Dad was in and out of hospital with dementia, and both my wife’s Mum and Dad had a major helath scares.

I had a car accident miles from home; writing off my car and sustaining concussion from a head injury.

The Youth organisation I’d built up with colleagues over several years closed; because I was unable to put the time in to run it, and no one else was in a position to take over.

My relationship between my wife and I was put under great pressure and we found it difficult to support, care and love each other.

It was at this point when my capacity to cope and deal with all of this was lost; and I had a complete breakdown, losing touch with reality and the world around me. I shrunk back into my cave.... a pit of despare, unable to communicate or move.

You could say then, life during this period was….

pretty dark, desperate and without HOPE.

I’m sure some of you will be able to relate to this next bit too. 

But as you heard in that description, the painful events going on around me, exceeded my ability to cope. And many times, when I could take no more, and I saw what I thought was a light at the end of the tunnel?! ....It wasn’t.

It turned out to be to be a freight train coming in the opposite direction; it ran into me, knocking me of my feet, bouldering me over and over again, pushing me further and further back into this deep, dark tunnel that I found myself in.

The guilt, the blame and feelings failure where a times too much.

I never knew there could be such pain from the anxiety and the hopelessness I felt.

I am not exaggerating when I say, at times I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest with the pain, and I thought I was going to die.

I sunk deper and deper into a black pit of depression.

I tried in vain to get myself out of this pit; but It felt like depression stood over me like an angry fighter, who had already knocked me down many, many times. And it would whisper in my ear

“don’t you dare try getting up, I will just knock you down again and again and again!”

My hope seemed to be slipping away.

I remember saying to someone,

“how can there be hope, when clearly there is none?”

You may be desperately seeking escape from, low self-esteem, a broken marriage, depression, anger, addiction, bullying, money problems, workplace problems……the list goes on.

Perhaps you’ve been suffering for months, years, or even decades; waiting for someone to pick you up, dust you off and say, "it's going to be ok".

Well; if you are in this place, or somewhere like it, I can tell you from experience……

There is hope to be found.

When we understand that the circumstances we find ourselves in may not change and we cling to hope, we then start to believe and experience life better.

We then let go of a desire to be safe and trouble free. And It is then that hope sets in and healing starts.

A great philosopher called Epictetus once said….

When we let go of the stuff causing us pain; the emotional, physical, and mental stuff.  Well-being begins to take over.

We then begin to have, peace, joy and calm in our lives…..

We find our happy place…..

Love makes a re-appearance, and you learn to love yourself……

We start to get back our patience, kindness and goodness……

We feel secure, composed and in control of our lives……

We have hope.

So, Back to my story….

Through years of pain, tears, anger, desperation and some very dark thoughts of running away and taking my own life.

I learnt to cling to the hope that was my faith and belief in a great power then my own strength. You may find hope elsewhere, but through my faith I was then able to climb out of the pit of despair I found myself in and embraced that hope.

Today, my daughter is stands restored from her illness. She is now married to a wonderful young man who had stuck by her though all of her illness. She has two beautiful daughters and a son of her own; which is miracle in itself, because the doctors said, that if she did survive this illness, she would be unlikely to be able have children. For the last few years she has been working with young people in a local youth organisation helping them with their challenging lives.

My eldest daughter is now re-married to a wonderful man and they too have a beautiful daughter and son. she is working as an oncology nurse in the local hospital. 

My dad seemed to gain a new sense of life and a partial healing from the dementia, right up to when he passed away a few years ago.

And my wife’s parents are doing pretty well too.

I know I am very lucky, and things don’t always turn out this well. And sometimes you cannot see that light at the end of tunnel because everything is so dark. 

But please understand me and believe me when I say, this is not the end for you, this is not the rest of your life, it will not always be this way…..

There is hope to be found.

Thank you for reading this and I hope you found it useful.  If you want to know more, please get in touch through the Man Shed website www.themanshed.org.uk 

Thanks

Graham


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You can get in touch via the website  

www.themanshed.org.uk/home/contact-us/, or email us at talk@themanshed.org.uk.

welcome! Please feel free to make comments and ask questions here. All comments will be verified by The Man Shed (TMS) before they are posted. Please keep your comments clean. Those which fail our house rules may be removed. If you see a post that is inappropriate, alert us by using the "Report Abuse" link and we will act accordingly.