Paritutu Rock – a mean little sucker which was a challenge. But we got to the top and had a great view. This is the end of a period in my life and the beginning of a new one. I don’t know what will happen, when or how but something in my life is about to change. Let’s see what’s in store.
xx
Tomorrow I can be absolutely honest. This woman is very good, apparently. I still work in the same place, I still dislike it intensely and find it increasingly difficult to drag myself out of bed every morning. I want to be with Michael. We know that we are meant to be together. He fills my gaps and I fill his but there are no jobs. Times are still hard and it looks like I’m going to have to stay in Auckland for the time being, which is a real pain. So I guess I’m kind of stuck. How often have I had that wonderful fantasy where I give the bastards the 1 digit salute as I march out the door?? Good God, I’d love that but unfortunately I have a mortgage to pay and bills coming through the door, plus I’m too realistic for that sort of carry on. So I’ll talk to this lady and I’ll be honest.
The Tahurangi were believed to reside at the top of Taupiri and Pirongia mountains, where they lead people off cliffs to their death. Legend also records that they descended from the mountains at night in the form of mists and kidnapped women from the Pa and villages to be held captive as wives for their Chiefs. These Tahurangi Chiefs were Te Rangipouri, Whanawhana, Ripoati, Taputeuru, and Nukupouri.
One particular legend records that one night Te Rangipouri kidnapped the wife of Ruarangi named Tawhaitu and took her high into Pirongia’s mountain peaks. For many months Ruarangi pursued the Tahurangi as they traveled in the form of a mist between Taupiri and Pirongia mountain, lamenting the loss of his wife and desperate to get her back.
After consulting a Tohunga (priest) who told him to use cooked kumara and red ochre to break the Tahurangi’s spells that held his wife captive, Ruarangi developed a plan to rescue his wife.
One day, as the Tahurangi traveled in the form of a mist, Ruarangi encircled certain areas with Kokowai (ochre) and cooked kumara. This forced the Tahurangi to leap to another spot that was not contaminated, and revealed his wife who also traveled as mist. Ruarangi smeared himself, his wife and the door lintel of his house with red ochre. He then retreated into his house placing cooked kumara outside the threshold to drive off Te Rangipouri. From that time the Tahurangi kept away from any living places painted in red ochre.
When he was defeated by Ruarangi, Te Rangipouri leapt upon the roof of a house and sang a song of farewell to Ruarangi’s wife then returned to the mountains. This song is still sung by the Waikato iwi as a song of lament.
http://www.hamiltongardens.co.nz accessed 10/06/10
The Tahurangi were out in force last weekend – I lost an expensive pair of sunnies and a pair of really pretty earrings. I doubt I’l lever them back no matter how much kumara I cook! It was a brutal walk, and I think my body has really rebelled this time – I had to come home sick today because I was dizzy and spaced out. Pirongia is less than 1,000m but the mist and rain made it a cruel challenge. I will go back one day. I will, and this time I will go prepared.
I had a realisation today as to why it is I find it so difficult to work with this team. It’s simply becasue they have no faith. They have no trust in the natural process of events that may begin in chaos, but eventually, though trial and error, will finish in a smooth workflow. Sure, have a basic framework for a plan of how things will work, but really you can plan yourself into an unnecessary corner where there’s suddenly no room for flexibility or creativity. That’s what these people do – they’re so scared of trusting that things will work out that they’ve become rigid and unwilling to take initiative to solve their own problems – this is in direct contrast to the circ team, who have just embraced the excitement and urgency and just fill their days with activity. They have ideas and are willing to try them out just to see if they work.
I don’t understand ref., I can’t work with this culture. It’s draining – I never wanted it in the first place and if the economy had been in better shape, I might have walked away from this.
Bring on the weekend! I live for Fridays at the moment.
“When we long for a life without…difficulties, remind us that oaks grow strong in contrary winds and diamonds are made under pressure”
Peter Marshall
So now I’m standing at the crossroads and I’m really looking for some signposts here….do I stay in Auckland for a while longer? Do I look for jobs in Tga? Is it too soon? Why wait? Michael is keen. So am I, so what’s stopping me from just going for it? I need some guidance, that’s what I need. I am ready to move away from my present employment, given the unhealthy behaviours that I’ve seen there. These are behaviours which have become embedded over time and stem from God knows how many unhealthy people getting away with working in unhealthy ways for years, and it’s all been allowed to continue for far too long. Now it seems almost impossible to stop, and I don’t want to be a part of it any more. I was in an unhealthy place and relationship when I started there, and I have to leave it behind. I can’t fix it, it’s too much for me. I’m still recovering from what Greg did to me and I need some peace. I KNOW that there’s a better place for me to be. It’s just that there are no opportunities for me – I still have 2 mortgages and I have to live.
Christina was a signpost for me, I guess, and pointed me to a good place, and Julia has put a thought into my head which I will act on today but it would be really nice to just know what I need to do…..
Update: March, 2009.
A settlement conference was scheduled for March 2nd, 2009. Neither my lawyer nor I expected G to settle. I questioned the value of such a conference, but was told that it is a mandatory part of the process which precedes a hearing, and hopefully negates the necessity for one.
I have never felt so anxious. I would be confronted with two things I find very stressful: confrontation and G himself. His lawyer demanded half of everything on his client’s behalf, and intimated that G could be entitled to even more. G had been drinking, I could tell. He wasn’t shaking, and was very relaxed and confident, even smug. He had a bottle of what appeared to be water with him, but was instructed by his lawyer to drink the water supplied by the court which stood in a carafe with glasses on the conference table. The judge acted as facilitator, rather than decision maker, clarifying points of law and maintaining control of the proceedings. Amounts of money for the purposes of a pay out were traded back and forth, I conferred with my lawyer, he with his. More haggling ensued. The judge left the room, unimpressed with the “horse-trading”. The amounts began to favour me more and more, and then it was over. He had settled. I was to pay him one lump sum, and then he would disappear from my life. I exited the doors of the court and felt reborn. I had lost money but regained my self respect and dignity. And I kept my house. My father has helped me as much as he is able, and I have the continued support of my friends. I’m pretty broke, but I’m rich.
For the longest time, I could spy only the smallest glimmer of light at the end of this long, dark tunnel. But I’m through and although the light is still very bright, I’m getting used to it.
I’m free.
The judge sat on the bench on June 4th 2008, the day of the protection order hearing and said that he had never come across anything like this before, and ordered G out of the house on June 6th, 2008. That day is etched in my mind for ever. After the hearing G tried to negotiate, cajole, threaten and manipulate me into giving him “a few more days” to get out of the house but now that I had the backing of the court, I refused. It felt so good after so many years of feeling so weak. I said no to him time and time again. On June 6th, I came home from work and the house was quiet. It was peaceful. It was a Friday, so I had the weekend to wander around the house, getting to know it again after having stayed in motels. I cleaned. On Monday I had the locks changed. On Tuesday I sent all his stuff to his mother’s house, where he had gone. I have not heard from him directly, although litigation is ongoing. I could still lose this house. But what I have gained is worth far more than all the money in the world.
G is still drinking. He has been in trouble with the police since he has lived at this mother’s home. Now I understand that it wasn’t my fault. It was easy to blame myself, because the drinking did get worse over time, so it seemed to be because of me. But it wasn’t. This is just the nature of addiction. It gets worse over time. It sneaks up on the addict and on those who live with him/her. It’s like riding a bike up a hill – as the hill gradually gets harder to climb, you change gears on your bike to accommodate the steeper gradient and for a while, it seems manageable. But eventually, you run out of gears and you just have to get off the bike and walk away. It’s not your fault that that you can’t get up the hill, it’s not that the bike isn’t well made, it’s just that the hill got too steep to climb.
I’m still fighting him legally and there’s a chance that I’ll get to keep my home, but I don’t know. All I know is that I’m happier, stronger and that I’ll be OK. I’ll be just fine.
Work was a sanctuary for me. I continued to perform well there because although my colleagues didn’t know the whole story, they did know enough about my situation to realise that it was unpleasant. The support I got was amazing. Most of it was subtle, wordless support. It should not surprise anyone that I work with women. I felt safe there.
My girlfriends were an unbelievable network of strength around me. G had tried his best to isolate me from them, but had never quite succeeded. I advise any woman in any kind of abusive relationship never, ever to allow their partner to alienate them from their friends. In a situation where a person is involved with an alcoholic, it’s very easy to become isolated as the nature of the addiction is such that it needs an enabler, a person that unquestioningly supports the addict. Having friends outside the situation puts the addict at risk of having his or her addiction confronted and questioned, not something he or she wants.
The end came quite suddenly. One night he just turned around to me and said “how much will you pay me to get out of your life?” I looked at him. The question had come out of nowhere and I had to make a decision. Would I do what I had done so often before and tell him that I had no intention of breaking off the relationship, that nothing had changed, that I still cared for him and wanted to be with him, just so that I would get some peace in the house and so there would be no shouting, no name calling, no danger?
Or would I bite the bullet and follow my heart? I looked at him. In his face I saw the misery, the self hatred, the sorrow. I couldn’t remove any of it. There was nothing I could do for him now. I had tried and tried and it was time to look after myself. I asked him how much he was thinking of.
And so I made the leap off the rollercoaster into the void. There followed 7 months of hell. Lawyers got involved because he refused to leave the house even though I had offered to help meet the costs of moving; he became so abusive that I had to eventually go to court to get a protection order and occupation order against him. It took months. Thank God we have no children. I would hate to drag children through all this, but it also meant that I was a low priority as far as the Family Court was concerned. I hung on at home. Every night was a special kind of torture, not knowing what he’d do next. The drinking made his behaviour unpredictable and particularly nasty. He would taunt me with tales of what he was going to do with all the money that I’d have to give him. He’d yell at me calling me anything from a whore, a slut, a psycho, the list goes on. I had to leave the house for a month because it was too much of a nightmare living there.
I was confused, desperate and helpless.
He became sicker and sicker; it got to the point where he wouldn’t even bother going to the toilet, he’d just throw up over the banister of the deck onto the garden, and then just carry on drinking. He kept crazy hours – it was a 24 hour cycle of drink for maybe 8 hours, pass out for 4 to 6 hours, then up again, drinking for another 8 hours or so. This meant that he was up at all hours of the night while I was trying to sleep because I had to work the next day. I tried to get his family to join with me to help him – he had 5 siblings. Addiction is entrenched in his family. G’s father was an alcoholic. His younger brother died at a young age due to drink and drugs. His sister has a drink problem which has put her relationship at serious risk. His older brother tried to talk to him. Even his sister offered to stop drinking with him and attend AA. Nothing helped and they just gave up. I went to counselling and the counsellor suggested that I somehow inject his cask of wine with water to dilute it.
I didn’t go back to that counsellor.
