"I get knocked down, but I get up again"

I just wanted to update you on how Alun and I are.

Alun got given his first ever antidepressants yesterday. I think he took one (warily) last night. He has booked himself into a doctor’s appointment for 3pm this afternoon.

Isn’t it funny – the second I let go of him and concentrated on my own wellbeing, Alun booked himself in for a GP appointment.

Finally.

Thank you a million times over, God. I am so grateful that my husband’s getting some help.

I guess that’s the main takeaway from this experience if we ever come across it again – begging Alun to please get some help doesn’t work. What DOES work is focusing on my own survival and leaving Alun alone.

Al said he saw how I contacted a psych and how much better I seemed after it, so he was more willing to try something himself.

Praise God.

But get this, you guys:

Alun’s parents arrive from Wales tomorrow afternoon.

Alun’s parents visit every year and stay for about 6 weeks – with us. I’m trying not to panic about it, but here’s a very short glimpse of how past visits have gone:

8 years ago – Alun’s Mom told me right to my face “I hate you and you are nowhere near good enough for my son. You’re fat, ugly and lazy and the sooner I can get Alun to see that, the better”.

7 years ago – Alun’s Mom followed me around the house FOR SIX WEEKS; criticizing my cleaning and cooking. I had to reign in my temper when she sat at MY table and ate MY food. The fiesty half of me wanted to stuff it down her throat “Yes, the chicken is dry. I hope you fucking choke on it”. I behaved and swallowed the hurt and anger down. Okay yes, it was Alun’s table too, to be fair – and we go halves on bills and food payments, but in that moment where she picked at her plate of food (that I’d proudly made) and made faces and immature noises…it felt like a very personal attack. It felt like MY table. MY turf…and I was getting shit on. It felt so wrong!

6 years ago – Alun’s Mom was appalled that I planned to attend Church in shorts and a t-shirt, saying I was “irreverent”, “unholy”, “disgraceful” and “not respectful at all of God”. Um, lady – it’s 40 degrees here in summer. Even the Pastor is in boardshorts. This is how we do Church in Australia. I don’t tell you how to do Church in Wales – please give me space to do MY church in MY way. Again, I didn’t say a word, I just went about my way to Church, grateful to get out of the house and have time on my own for a few hours.

5 years ago – I fell asleep on the sofa and when I woke up, I could hear Alun’s Mom telling him to leave me. She literally said “She’s asleep. We can pack a bag for you and check into a nice hotel together. She won’t know and we can just escape”. Alun burst into tears and said he couldn’t talk to his Mom “like this anymore”. He walked away. I felt I was frozen to the couch. If I got up, they’d know I heard and Alun’s Mom (very combative) would want a show down. So, I stayed on the sofa that night and cried for hours.

4 years ago – Alun got attacked in the city and “coward punched” (do you guys have that in your areas of the world? Where someone will punch someone else from behind – a hard punch to the base of their skull/where their neck begins; that can ultimately render them paralyzed or even kill them? It was all the rage for a good few years here in Perth, so many of us were appalled by it. It used to be called “the King punch” but quickly got changed to the “coward punch”. Alun’s parents came to visit and saw me working 2 full time jobs to support Alun and I while he was recovering in hospital. After working 12 hours, I’d come home and put laundry on, cook a meal to take into hospital for Alun, tidy the house and prepare fresh clothes/entertainment for Alun while he was in hospital.

This was the first visit Alun’s Mom said hardly a word to me. She just watched.

3 years ago – Alun was incredibly drunk and trying to make sushi with sharp knives. His parents yelled at him to put the knives away and to have some water. Being told what to do pisses Alun off and makes him more likely to do the thing you’ve told him not to. He was getting angry and the situation was escalating. Everyone was yelling. Oh Lord. I put a favourite song of Alun’s on the speakers and distracted Alun by pulling my best 90’s dance moves. Alun laughed, put the knives down and joined in, wiggling his little bum and laughing his head off. I ‘danced Alun out’ of the kitchen and into the living room so that his parents could put things away and Alun was none the wiser.

Again, not a word from Alun’s Mom, but a nod of approval from his Dad who mouthed “thank you” and smiled when I nodded and gave a thumbs up in response.

2 years ago – My left leg swelled up to twice its size. Alun was at work (He’s a Nurse at our biggest hospital) and I was home with his parents. I’m not able to hide my emotions so I was clearly distressed. I called an Uber to take me to the hospital. Alun’s parents insisted on coming with me and sat on either side of me as I waited in the Hospital’s emergency room. Alun ran in panicked and joined us from his shift on the floor above us. Tests revealed I had a blood clot on my lung (so it was weird that my LEG swelled up) and that if I did ANYTHING but bed rest for 6 weeks, I was in danger of dying instantly from the clot moving to my heart. I was put on blood thinners and sent home with strict instructions not to do a thing.

I was gob smacked when Alun’s Mom asked the Doctor what she and his Dad could do to help and were told to keep me as calm and as rested as possible.

On the way home in the Uber, Alun’s Mom reached across and squeezed my hand. She didn’t say anything but having my hand in hers said everything.

1 year ago – I got fired from my job. I hated the thought of having to tell Alun’s parents (I honestly wished I could have been fired 6 weeks later – after Alun’s parents had left, to be honest) and braced myself for what his Mom would say.

She hugged me.

“You work so hard and you never give up. They were wrong to fire you and they’ve lost the best thing that ever happened to them” she said – in front of everyone. Alun was BEAMING and I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face all that day.

So…things are much improved and I see God’s hand and His grace in moving Alun’s Mom’s heart so that she sees me for who I am – a girl head over heels in love with her son. I will do anything to make Alun happy and I think his parents both know that now. It’s taken A LONG TIME but I think holding my tongue and sticking to being myself no matter what Alun’s Mom thought of me won her over in the end. I thank God for that.

Alun’s Mom is SO EXCITED for landing on Aussie soil tomorrow and I am thankful this won’t be a tense visit filled with tears…but I’m too fragile and broken to entertain them this time. I don’t have it in me to be polite or pleasant. I feel like I’m crawling on my hands and knees across broken glass, so to have to smile and ‘be on’ when his parents arrive FOR SIX LONG WEEKS just makes me want to ‘check out’ from life even more.

I have a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach and I don’t know how to get through this visit.

My Mom has drained my savings this week. AGAIN. I honestly think she’s gambling or has picked up a cocaine addiction with the huge amounts of money she’s blowing – all my hard-earned money, by the way. Alun is starting new meds and is very shaky and unsure. I’m exhausted from 9-hour days at work AND looking after the house ‘in my time off’. Al and I are both treading water and hoping to stay alive. My brother hasn’t spoken to me since Mom moved in with him.

I feel like my head is caving in, guys. I really do.

I feel like too many things are going wrong at once and TOMORROW Al and I have to collect his folks from the airport. This means I have to plaster a big smile on my face when all I want to do is cry, have a bath and have a sleep.