In a Nutshell

I'm still not really sure how or where to start with regard to pulling everything together so, for my sake, I'll do a rough summary of my life so far in the hope that it will act as a kind of guide, with areas/prompts that I can dip in and out of in more detail further along the line.

I'm off work all day today, so it seems like a good time to start laying the foundations. I can only envisage having an hour a day maximum hereafter to keep adding to the blog.

So, in a nutshell...

My mother's family were all in or connected to circuses, fairgrounds and showbusiness before I was born. I knew very little about my Dad's background, although I grew up knowing some wonderful aunts, uncles and cousins from his side.

However, when I was 22/23 I found out, by chance, that my biological father was in fact someone totally different - all I have of him is a very common name and a couple of photographs from Germany in 1965.

Family life was very volatile when I was growing up, my parents divorced when I was 11 and although my mum met a really lovely man, who played a fantastic fatherly role, life at home became more and more volatile.

At 15, I ran away from home - for good. The trouble was, with six months to go before my 16th birthday, I ended up living with foster carers (I could never call them parents), who lived in the same street as my family - the authorities thought this would be better for me than going into a home!!

In May 1982 I took my exams and finished school (all girls' Catholic) - amazingly, I passed but the results were definitely nothing to write home about. I think the teachers had already written me off, although one of the nuns was really wonderful and we kept in touch for a number of years after I left.

Bang on 16, I got a job as a sales assistant on a 'Youth Training Scheme' and found myself lodgings in the nearby city. I had a lovely land-lady who semi 'mothered/big-sistered' me. But most importantly, I was free (despite numerous threats that I would be kept 'in care' until I was 18 - terrifying!!).

At 17 I moved on to a live-in job as a mother's help/kennel-maid and at 18 I was working on a pig farm, lodging with a family nearby.

I married for the first time at 20, although at 21 he left me for what became one of his many affairs. This one hurt the most though, becase he actually left me and I never saw it coming. We did get back together and stayed together until 1992, when I left him, had a major affair myself, and he committed suicide!!

Meanwhile, our marriage was already very rocky by 1991 and I was given the opportunity of a new life with a mutual friend, who I'd always thought the world of. We spent one night together in 1991, with no regrets, but it was the wrong time and so we parted, still friends, though I didn't see him again until my husband's funeral.

The man I had an affair with in 1992, and left my husband for, was considerably older than me and owned a recording studio in the City. He made me feel so special and we worked all hours together, mostly producing radio commercials for the local station.

It was an amazing roller coaster of a year from April 1992 through to January 1993 and he offered me the world. Materially, I would probably never have wanted for anything again.

There was one big problem though, my emotions were all over the place and I realised that I didn't really love him. Not honestly, I cared for him a lot, but I didn't truly love him - I was still in love with my husband.

After my husband's death I knew I couldn't stay with someone I didn't honestly love, so I left. I heard from him out of the blue last year (nearly sixteen years later) when he sent a friend to deliver a parcel to me - he had started writing a book all those years ago, finished it and had it published. The parcel was a copy of his book, which had 'for.....' my name printed on the first page. To this day I have no idea how he knew how or where to find me.

Back to 1993, shortly after my husband's death, I found myself a small house to rent near the sea and managed to get a job locally, supporting people with learning difficulties.

The few years I worked at the home, which also had a small livestock farm, were probably some of the happiest, funniest and most fulfilling years of my life. I met some amazing people and can quite honestly say I considered myself to be a 'resident on a payroll'. Some of the residents taught me so much it's hard to explain - they also moulded me for a future I could never have imagined possible. It was also while working here I met my future sister-in-law, who became my best friend.

1993 was definitely a year of new beginnings, as it was also the year I met the man I would spend the next eleven years of my life with. When we first met, I was 26 and he was 37. He had never left home and still lived with his mother (who was 79 and also recently widowed). in 1994 I gave up my house and we all moved together into a little bungalow that had been left to 'mother' for her lifetime. On the whole, we all lived quite happily together, although it wasn't always easy.

Sadly, in 1997 my 'early years' Dad, who was living abroad, died from liver cancer (my step-dad had died suddenly from a heart attack in 1990 aged 50 and I still know nothing about my biological father).

Meanwhile, also in 1997 my boyfriend's mother had a heart attack. Although it wasn't fatal, at 83 she never fully recovered and in June 1998, she was diagnosed with secondary liver cancer. She chose to come home to die and I was able to take unconditional leave from work to care for her. I felt very privileged to be able to look after her and I know that she died peacefully, with her dignity firmly in tact - just as she wanted.

As the bungalow was only for the lifetime of 'Mother' my boyfriend and I had to find somewhere else to live, as soon as possible. By this time I was working as a mortgage advisor in the City and managed to arrange a 100% mortgage for us (we had hardly any money of our own for a deposit) and we bought a little cottage in the country. That was probably the best move we ever made - a little bit of financial security for both of us.

Unfortunately, after 'Mother' died, our relationship changed - with hindsight, I think I became her replacement (only, without her authority). My boyfriend had a very controlling nature and often referred jokingly to himself as 'a control freak', as did many of the people that knew him.

I endured a huge amount of emotional and psychological 'controlling' over the years with my boyfriend without realising it and in 2001 we got married.

It still makes me sad to realise that I was clutching at straws by marrying him and virtually from that day on, he never touched me sexually again.

It wasn't just the sexual rejection that hurt, it was the continual rejection of my feelings and my identity. I was lost, lonely and very down-trodden. In fact, I would never have believed, before this, that anyone could be so lonely when they're married or living with another person.

Don't get me wrong, he wasn't (isn't) a bad person, he was a great 'comedian' in public and very deep and sensitive in private. I loved him very much and I was sad when things turned out the way they did. Depression was something my boyfriend suffered regularly at different times of the year but after his mother died, he seemed to have more 'down' times than 'up'.

We had a particularly bad time over the Christmas and New Year of 2002, with so many things said and done that hurt so much, I knew our relationship and marriage was over and I knew I had to leave, especially if I wanted my own sanity to remain in tact.

I could feel myself spiralling down into a black pit, I was drinking far too much, far too often, and I didn't like the person I was becoming. On and off during 2003 I went away and stayed with my old employer and her children (adults now) at the kennels, to have some thinking time and try and work things out. These separations made no difference whatsoever and each time, on return, I would be greeted with: "Do you feel better after your little break?"

September 2003 was a definite 'life-changer' for both of us.

By now, I was a manager in a care home and, one night after work, I agreed to go for a drink with a couple of the girls to meet up with an old 'mutual' friend...

When I walked into the pub I heard his laugh, recognised his voice and then, when he hugged me, I didn't ever want him to let me go. I was back in 1991 again - but this time I wanted to stay, forever.

Just meeting up with my old friend again, gave me the strength I needed to make that final decision to end my marriage once and for all. It was almost a year before we could be together properly (even though I told my husband the very next day). After a shed-load of heartache and turmoil, we made it in the end.

I think, second to running away from home all those years ago, the scariest but most exciting and liberating time for me was shortly after telling my husband that it was over and that I was leaving for good, I got myself a passport and went to Spain, with my 'friend' for my first 'real' holiday ever.

Ironically, although the holiday was booked, my passport didn't arrive until the morning of the day we were due to fly. That's got to be fate!!

To bring things quickly up to date... I finally left the 'marital home' in August 2004 and moved in with my 'friend'. I continued to pay half the mortgage with my husband for a year, while he found his feet.

My divorce became final in November 2007, on the grounds of my husband's unreasonable behaviour and the financial settlement from the house was agreed and completed shortly afterwards.

Meanwhile, my friend and I...

We've both changed jobs (working far more sociable hours), we've built a house together, we were interviewed for and granted permission to marry in Church last year and, whilst on honeymoon, we found and bought a lovely little apartment in a small Spanish Town in Andalucia, near the Sea.

Well, I guess this nutshell has turned out a lot bigger than I expected but then there's a very big nut to go inside it.