Something broken

 When I saw my husband name on the phone screen at 2AM, my heart sank. I was in Barcelona for a corporate event, and had wisely left the team at the disco at 1h30 in the morning to get back to the hotel and get some sleep.

I picked up and all my fears were confirmed. He was high, did not know where he was and tried to articulate "can you come and pick me up?". Clearly, I could not, and he had absolutely no clue of his whereabouts.

One hour of meditation later I managed to fall asleep. I told myself he was going to make it home like many other times. I tried very hard not to think about the time he made it home with a broken arm, an injured feet, broken glasses, a black eye and a huge cut on his hand. At least now he no longer wear glasses. Needless to say, it was not a restful night.

I made it home on the next evening, and found him with a huge violet mark on half of his face a two twisted fingers.

The last time something of the kind happened was this, and the worst time (mentioned above, when he broke his arm etc etc) never made it to this blog as I've tried very hard to erase it from my mind. And that does not include the time the police wanted to talk to him as they were arresting a dealer and wanted to know how much and how many times and what exactly he had purchased. And the time I was in New York (for work) and his friends had to bring him back to his parents place as he was shit faced and had lost the keys to go home. And the time he spent one year without a driving license for DUI (although admittedly he stopped driving if he's drunk anything, even one glass of beer, and that happened before we got together).

The point is, I have a hard time making him stop when I'm with him when he's past his limit, but when I'm away there is no way of knowing the amount of trouble he'll get in. And frankly, this is not fair on me.

I do not really know what to do, but I can't take this shit any longer. And clearly, the idea of having a baby has gone down the drain. I've been in so much pain (back, knee and mouth hurt like hell whenever I have periods), that at this point I'm taking an appointment asap to have a brand new Nexplanon  inserted in my arm. He has not fed the hamster in 3 days I was away, how could he be responsible for a baby? (The hamster is fine - I had left it dried food and water enough - but it does not really like dried food and prefers to have fruits, or salad, cheese etc).

I knew I married an alcoholic, I knew it back then. What really worries me is that I do still love him, but something has broken this time and I do not think it can be fixed.

Overwhelmed

 well the title says it all I guess.

We left Italy on a Friday morning, and as typical, I got my period (since the period know when you have a 11+ hours flight), and it was a bad one, with an horrible backache and all joints (and the damn knee) aching for days.

Miami beach was full of springbreakers, something I would have loved 20 years ago, but I would much rather have enjoyed quiet. Actually the crowds were so bad and unruly the police enforced a curfew, resulting in police sirens and megaphones all night long.

The beach and the parks were really beautiful and the weather amazing. It would have been perfect, had I not been in almost too much pain to walk. Meanwhile, phone conversations with the family were full of cute comments such as "Are you really going to the beach? you are too fat to wear a bikini" and other lovely comments of the kind.

Orlando was nice, although, predictably, I got sick - I take it as a miracle that I did not get covid (2k people in closed spaces with no masks - insane), but the constant swing between hot wet weather outside and AC indoors is a killer for me. The even was beautiful, we had a private night opening of Universal Studios and a lovely evening at a golf place, with a DJ set, fireworks, amazing food and booze etc.

Meanwhile every single pic sent to the family whatsapp chat (such as the one above, in the new dress) resulted in more sneaky comments.

We got back. got tested (negative), and the first thing my father told me on the phone was I need to go on a diet. Cool huh?

On Monday I went to Tuscany for a Partners meeting. The place was lovely (see pics). I did make a mistake in sending a text to the family chat along the lines of "having a vertical tasting of Brunello di Montalcino right now, so not coming home LOL". The reply frtom my father was "You're not coming home because you won't fit through the door".

Frankly, I'm done. I've had enough. For the first 20 years of my life everyone had to stress out that I was not eating enough and that I was such a nuisance for not eating. Then 20 years of telling me I'm too fat. 

I'm fed up - hello, I do see mirrors, and I do own a scale. Just fuck off. No more phone calls from me.

Not everything was good back when I was skinny

 The number on the phone says it's from France but I don't recognize it, so I just pick up

"Lucy Shadow speaking"

"Hello Lucy! It's Ben V! You remember? Do you still speak French?"

I do. I remember Ben V. While he keeps talking, I spend about three minutes trying to remember if I've ever had sex with him or not. Ben V was working in the same firm I was in my first years in Lyon.

I decide I did not, mentally pat myself on the shoulder and start paying attention.

While he proceeds telling me he now works for a private equity fund and that they're looking at an Italian company and he's seeking an Italian advisor, etc etc, suddenly some long buried souvenir floats to the surface of my mind.

I remember a mad night some 14 years ago, a night of drinks, sex, screams and madness. A night I had willingly buried in the darkest places of my mind for a long time.

Ben V rambles on and we agree he'll send me an email. I look up at the private equity firm he works for and spot my favourite client among their credentials, so I take a big breath and call him to ask for feedback. The good news is one of the partners who just joined Ben V firm is someone I know well and with whom I enjoy an excellent professional relationship! Of course he asks me why I sound worried about this, and I end up telling him a "mitigated" version of the story.

Later on, I dig into an older blog of mine archive, and found the post below. Trouble is, names have been changed and I can't place a sure identity on "Arnaud". He might be Ben V or he might be another guy who was friend with Nicolas (again, you'll have to read below to understand). Fuck.

Nicolas was a guy I knew in Lyon that I casually dated over a summer. I was 23, single and... well I don't regret the random sex life per se but sometimes it still backlashes at me.

Coyote Ugly

September 25, 2006

 

The night out with Nicolas finally happened but was… awkward

 

Do you all remember the Coyote Ugly girls? The idea was that coyotes that get trapped cut away the trapped leg with their teeth, to run away. Just the way you would want to do sometimes, when you wake up beside someone after a funky night, and all you wish is to run away without waking him. You know what I mean, huh?

 

Before you misunderstand, we did not do it. Ok, I’ll explain everything.

 

I arrived to the party around 9PM, wearing this innocent/lusty dress I have since college, that never failed to make me get what I wanted.

Nicolas wasn’t there yet, but there was Helene, girlfriend and neighbor of mine, who instantly started to pour me her wonderful vodka sour. One hour (and more than one vodka) later, Nicolas arrived with his friends, not yet drunk but already quite high. I just smiled, and he said “My love, why didn’t you answer me?” I was stunned. Picked up the phone and found a message from him, from two hours before, that said “Sweetheart, I’ll arrive later, shall we meet directly at the pub? Kisses”. I watched Nicolas, and smiled while he was saying “I don’t want everyone to see there’s something between us” just to start publicly making out with me, hands all over me and tongue down my throat.

 By the time we left for the pub, the evening was great.

We were both drunk, but still happy drunk. So, making out some more at the pub, just seemed a wonderful idea. Music was great, Nicolas (who apparently knows everyone no matter where he goes) was introducing me as his fiancé (???) to everyone, including my new junior colleague, who just watched me astonished (and I wasn’t enough shit faced to avoid thinking “MERDE, I’ll have to fix this”).

 When we decided to move to a club next door, the drama started. They wouldn’t let us in, basically because Nicolas was all over me. And then Arnaud, Nico’s spazzy friend, came out from the disco. I tried to persuade them to get in without me, so that I could join them a few minutes later, but by this time it was getting hard to explain things to Nico. And then, Arnaud pulled close and grabbed my breast.

I FRAKED OUT.

I got scared, screamed at them both, and tried to left. They tried to persuade me to move to another club with them, but I wasn’t getting it, Arnaud would not let me go and I realized that Nicolas wasn’t really seeing what was happening. So, when a friend of them pulled over in his car and they got distracted, I slipped away, walked for a while in the rain that had started pouring, managed to get a cab and went home sobbing.

Nicolas started calling me while I was in the cab but I was probably incoherent and he was still drunk.

Fifteen minutes after I got home, I had just got out of my drenched dress and into a nightie, when Nicolas showed up at my place. I buzzed him in, because after all I've had so many great nights with Nico and trusted him to be a good guy. I did think he had not fully grasped what was going on and I just wanted someone to hug me.

When I open the door the corridor was pitch black, Nico was drenched and smiling, whispering soft sexy French words. I stood by to let him in, and in he got. And behind him, Arnaud tried to get in as well.

I slammed the door on Arnaud, he backed out, I slammed the door again on his hand and he started howling and finally I got the door shut.

Shaking, I locked the door only to realize Nico was still in, and Arnaud was out pounding fists on my door.  Cold, miserable and frightened, I burst in tears. Nico started talking to the door quitly "Go away Arnaud. Go away. Why are you here? You were supposed to drop me off and leave. Go away or I'm coming out and beat your face to pulp. Was it you then who scared her? Fuck you asshole. Leave now, or I'll call the cops and they'll find some nice white stuff in your pocket".

That must have worked because Arnaud left. I didn't really want Nicolas to stay but I was to afraid to open the door again, and anyway he slumped on the couch shortly after and passed out.

I slept out of exhaustion, but 4 hours later I had to catch the train at 6:30AM (weekend with parents had been planned long ago). I did not want to wake Nicolas and talk about it, so I just left him asleep on my couch leaving him a note.

 

I don’t even know how the hell will I manage to walk into the office on Monday morning, after everyone saw the two of us on Friday night

Back to present, I decide I can't figure who Nico's friend was that night. I haven0t seen any of these people for over 12 years. I give a call to Ben V boss, say hi, and decide I'll take the engagement anyways. The past is gone and shall better stay forgotten. There will be no going for drinks on this engagement in any case. Any out of office meeting will be strictly confined to breakfast!

The lake

When the night is almost over, she drops randomly, 

folding over and staining the horrors; 

but if you can just get lost next to the lake,

it will sooth you and calm you

until you can no longer breathe.

How beautiful the lights reflected on the water

fooling anyone

And if you want, you can cut it in pieces

It's then that silence throws on the water

the ticking of clocks that are rotting.

Down there you can find that girl, minding her breath and her skirt

As wide and open as floating flowers

She's dancing, she's burning bright, she's feeling

it's not worth it, life is not worth it

the crazy life of a financial advisor during lockdown

The morning starts well. By now (after 5 weeks of smart-working from my parents' place and 3 weeks of total lockdown) Husband and I have completely corrupted my mother's black cat.
The Panther (aka Mom) has two cats: Tigros - a smart huntress, intelligent, reactive and a bit of a tedious whore if you want my point of view - and Negus (which means black prince in Ethiopia).
Negus is the dumb brother, he's a black cat who only has (had?) one goal in his life: being petted by my parents. He's super-loyal and affectionate, but the Panther always had a thing for intelligent ones (see Bro and I, where I was treated like the accident daughter until my late twenties).
After these weeks, where we have been spending only on treats for Negus, he's finally moved downstairs with us (insert evil laugh here).
So in the morning he steps in from our bedroom window and plops down on our bed, right in the middle. Goodbye morning sex by the way - clearly gaining the cat's affection has become more vital.

Despite everything, two clients managed to close their transactions this week - I usually don't develop much on my job, but basically they have acquired other companies. Given the lockdown (and the recession), it's almost a miracle.

Fast forward through a morning of conference calls, lunch with the family and quickly preparing some bread (currently baking in the wood stove upstairs).
At 2.45PM I was preparing for a long videoconference when a girl rings our bell and frantically warns that, in the filed close to our home where we keep the hens, she spotted a dog chasing Mom's hens.
Now, the Panther is a bit peculiar - we are virtually vegetarian and she takes very good care of her hens that are more like pets then anything else.
Husband reached that part of the yard first - blame it on my knee surgery, but I still cannot run (not even a few steps) at the risk of stumbling down. By the time I got there, it was a mix between a will coyote cartoon and a zombie apocalypse movie. The hens are 14 and live a very large yard, with their coop (the fox comes every night so they must be locked sunset to sunrise) lots of grass, bushes and trees.
There were feathers everywhere, bloodied pieces of hens spread around, dead hens, hens running like crazy and in the middle, my beautiful, brave, big husband with a pitchfork, chasing a pitbull that was chasing hens.
Surreal.
He managed to scare away the dog while my parents reached the owner, and then we proceeded for the next hour in counting the fallen, the injured and grouping the scared healthy survivors.

All while trying to soothe the poor Panther, who was very grateful towards us, until I suddenly realized I was 30 minutes late for a conference call, and absentmindedly dropped an F bomb right in the face of my Mom. Aw, well, fuck it.

Fast forward through a boring call, more cat therapy, realizing that I screamed into the dog owner's face that he is a fucking moron who likes to butt-fuck his sister (and most important, realizing I dropped all this in front of the Panther but she was probably in shock or something because she did not flinch nor mention this), I finally remember to bake bread for dinner.

While the bread was baking in the wooden stove I was strolling through pant-suits on IG and started wondering if we'll really ever go back to the pant-suit and heels life (well if my knee does not heal I can probably forget the heels). Back to the city, professional version of ourselves?
I honestly don't know any longer, but meanwhile I took a mental note that I need to fetch more wood for the chimney tomorrow morning.

shut-in

...and we are still here.
The whole country is in shut down; 90% of the time I think this is a pneumonia that spreads a bit more then a flu, and it will never hit healthy people like us.
That it is handed badly, and that this complete quarantine is an absurd situation.

Than I hear about someone I know, someone young and fit and healthy, who is in Intensive Care and I wonder.

After a while I revert to my initial thinking because the alternative, the possibility that this will destroy our civilization is too dramatic even for a drama queen like truly yours.


Positive things:
since I'm crashing at my parents, I can go for long walks in the woods next to the lake. Spring is amazing, there's plenty of flowers growing in the woods, sunny and warm weather - mixed with the quarantine, this means you get to enjoy all the above in a very private way. I love it.

Negative things:
economy went down the drain two weeks ago - it will take us 5 years minimum to recover
as such, I'll never find an easy way out from my current job
my mom keeps cooking and I keep eating. I probably gained 10 pounds already

when they drop the C word, it's always shitty

It's been 9 months since we first went to see a doctor about husband breathing problem.
He got nose surgery in May, but they could not remove a small tumor he has on his skull, since they're afraid of touching the brain. Just keep it monired they told us.

The breathing finally seemed to improve in June when we went to Greece - at least for a while.

Then it got worse, with more polips forming in his nose.

In late July he got a mild case of pneumonia - mild also because I got him on antibiotics on day 1.

In august he started complaining about chest pains, and his breathing is worse than ever - his troubles seem to be lung-related now, not just nose-related. My dad happens to be a pneumologist, so he checked him last week and told him to just have a TAC.

As soon as husbad left the room dad told me to have the TAC and other exams done ASAP because, he said, "if he has cancer you'll need to know asap".

Fuck.

Waiting for the TAC results now. Meanwhile, frankly, I understand why he doesn't  quit smoking. Let's face it, who more than people like us can understand that? If I can't manage to get below 60kg, how on earth can I expect that he can stop smoking?

we've barely slept in the past 2 months, since he has so much trouble when we lay dow, and I'm having more and more trouble keeping my shit together at work.

Old habits die hard

I seem to be back to years ago in terms of hectic life.
I left on Sunday morning for Amsterdam and came back last night. On Saturday I'm off to Dubai for a week, then it'll be Montecarlo for another week. work work work work work.

Don't get started with how much fun this is - it is not. I'm too old for this shit.

Meanwhile my husband is also back to his old habits, and on Monday night he claimed he was at home, then disappeared from the world, went out, got shit faced, lost his mobile and faile to show up at a client meeting on Tuesday morning. His team started calling me but I was in Amsterdam and had less news about his whereabouts then his team.

So not looking forward to a good old fight tonight...

Oh my heart

I came home to a city half erased
I came home to face.... what we faced
This place needs me here to start
This place is the beat of my heart

I was getting ready and packing my staff when my nephew told me:
"so I really want to try this acrobatics class, but my daddy said that I'm not cut for it"
"I guess it depends Luca. If you aim at the Olympics, whatever you're going to try, at 12 you are too old. If you want to be more agile, and maybe learn a couple of tricks, you should totally go for it!" While I answered readily, my heart was aching - the kid is 12, for God's sake, why does my Bro crash his ambitions? Sport is healthy for him!Meanwhile his sister strikes a mean one : "you must lose weight to do that"
Fuck the little bitch - she's not even really skinny.
Of course Luca turns to get at his sister and I stop him and send her out of the room

"How many of us just had lunch together?"
"Seven"
"Do you know who is the heaviest among those seven?"
"Me?"
"NO!!! Absolutely not! What does your brain tell you sweetie? First you are not tall enough - but it is actually me. You got much skinnier over the past few months, and don't get me wrong, it is good. You want to be more slim? That is fine, and you are right in paying attention to it. But look, you are not fat, you are not. I am definitely fatter than you are"
"But you are beautiful"
"Thank-you darling, that's sweet. But it doesn't change things - I am a bit on the fat side. I'll be paying attention in the next few months - the thing is, there's people like your dad and like grandfather who are naturally skinny, and there's people like us who need to pay a bit more attention. But you need to enjoy life, and sport will always be good for you, Don't listen to anyone who tells you that you are not meant for a certain sport - sport is fun, and you should enjoy it! It's good for your body and your mind, and you should try anything that you'd like!"

Lord help me and my nephew, he's only 12. And it's true he used to be fat, but now he's normal - granted, not skinny, but just two months ago the kid ran a 14km race with us, he's healthy now. What the hell does my brother think?

it's sweet, and it's sad, and it's true
how it doesn't look bitter on you
oh my heart, oh my heart, oh my heart!

There is a light and it never goes out.

…and if a double decker bus, crashes into us, to die by your side, it’s such a heavenly way to die.

And if a ten ton truck, kills the both of us, to die by your side – well the pleasure and the privilege’s mine.

Take me out, tonight, oh take me anywhere I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care

I don’t want to die fat. But I’d rather die while my husband still loves me. I’m so afraid he will get over me.

So many expectations on me.

Mine: get skinny, make it to the partnership at work. I don’t feel anyone supports me in those.

Husband’s: who knows what he expects of me? Get more fit, surely, Probably a kid, which I don’t want.

Mom’s: children. Stop working as much as I do. Gah

Dad’s: make him get younger (not joking). Do more things with him. Bring him to Nepal again. Oh dad, I'm so worried about you! But I also need to make my marriage work. 

How can I possibly make everyone happy? And myself?

Friend or foe. Jillian Michaels

Maria, my best friend, my biggest foe.

Maria is my best friend, and she still lives in France, where we met. We shared so much, but last year she fell deeper and deeper into a horrible depression. While my feelings towards her were unchanged, at a certain point I almost stopped reaching out for her, because every time we spoke on the phone she would end up sobbing louder and louder until excusing herself and hanging up. It got to a point where I realized that talking to me would only stir certain feelings that were probably best left alone.

This did not stop me from visiting her last December, where I met a poor shadow of my friend, weighting barely 38 kg (BMI 16.4).

Around spring, she slowly started getting better. She goes out, started a new class of capoeira, blah blah.

she came over the weekend to visit, and well, she did hit 40 kg. which puts her BMI at 17.3 (she is short and tiny).

I love her and really hope she keeps getting better.
But shopping with her? pure nightmare.


On a side note, I've started the 30 days shred program by Jillian Michaels, on top of my regular training. I'll let you know the results.

Family drama - Fitness thinspo

Previously on Waiting for the miracle to come:

Grandfather: about 10 days ago, he went nuts and hit multiple times my grandmother with his crutches. Both of them are 88, both have serious health issues, and lived at home. After the hitting and another violent outbreak, and he begged us to take him away from home, we found him a place in a nursing home, which is honestly not bad, in a nice place with a great view (and that charges us 2.500 Euros a week - over 3 thousand USD).

From then, it's been downhill, and not in a good way: after a couple of days he started forgetting things, then stopped eating and so on.

In this episode

After working on Saturday (fuck), yesterday I went with the Sponsor (aka Dad) to see Grandfather. In addition to not eating, he's completely lost his mind (in less than 10 days). He has no clue about where he is, is desperate to go home.

Grandmother, however, is having serious problems and may need to replace her knee prosthesis, which at 88 is no small deal.

Dad is not doing good either, working too much and with too many things on his shoulders, the last thing he needed right now was facing his own crying father, who was begging to be taken home.

And in this mess, nobody even guessed that he could stay with my parents: when they got married, he cut them financially, and never ever helped them out, so the Panther (aka Mom) pretty much hates him, and can't really be blamed for that, so there's no way in hell she would agree to look after him. Dad, on the other side, works well over 70 hours every week, so he's no option either.

All in all, this was deeply depressing. I'll try to use these nursing home souvenirs as a motivator for hitting the gym more often.

In the meanwhile, have some fitness thinspo and motivators!

winner of NYC Marathon 2011 (woman)