Wake up call

 This was an accident,

not the kind where sirens sound

never even noticed

we're suddenly crumbling

(show me love, t.A.T.u.)

While we were planning a summer roadtrip that involves visiting some top French wine caves in the Burgundy region, chateaux, middle age towns, kayaking down the Ardèche canyon and relaxing by Lake Annecy, driving around lazily, and then...

Husband suddenly proposed to do a week of diet retreat. He actually sent me the link of a sick place where instead of giving you food they give you an IV with fluids and nutrients. (for the modest price of fucking 5k Euros per person, per week).

Besides the obvious fact that I'd rather shut myself in at home without food for a week rather than flushing money down the toilet like this, the simple think he is considering this kind of plan triggers some huge warnings.

I need to lose weight ASAP. Let' face it - my parents can barely look me in the eyes and are basically ashamed of being around with me. Husband enquires about sick places that are meant for old rich fat people that wannabe anorexic. Do I need any more suggestions?

When T.A.T.U. were famous, no one ever focused much on Lena Katina, even though she was the real voice of the duo. She was probably a normal weight, but she was the fat one of the duo and eye were all over skinny Julia Volkova, the hot skinny bitch.

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.

one step too far?

No posts.
I'm fat.

I would really really like the best manager I have that works for me to hit on me.

I really really hope that does not happen - I know it will not happen.

I still love my husband, but I am freaking out due to work

workworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkwork

fuck

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

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.

Safe in my own skin?

After Dubai, it was one week in Montecarlo.
Same client, who operates restaurants and night venues. Never seen so many Ferraris and Lambos in my life.
It was like the world was spinning and it was mostly populated by supercars, diaphane hookers, musicians and singers dressed like the 70s were now, dwarves (yes, dwarves), shishas, 30 liters bottles of Dom Perignon. And in the morning at their offices trying to figure the business, while my head experienced troubles addying 2 and 2.

Carrying around 10/15kg more than all the other girls tends to be depressing. I don't care that most of the girls were hookers, that is not the point. And in the end, how different are we?
I don't have sex with clients, but truly I still have to make them feel successful, smart, powerful and brave. I sell them my skills and knowledge in principle, but practically I sell my time. My time away from home, away from what I care.

The saddest part is that I am totally aware that I'll have to work all my life, and I'm also aware this work/life balance is unsustainable even in the short term. I can no longer manage it, blame it on the age, on the responsibilities it doesn't matter. I just can no longer manage it.

And I tried, I tried quitting, I tried working in a corporate and where did it lead me? If fucked up my mind in first place, and the other consequences, the real ones are/were unspeakeable. Vivien is dead and there is no going back, and I'd rather not even considering that kind of adventure again.

too late for revenge

Dear Vivien,
so they fired the asshole CEO who made you miserable.
The same one who wouldn't look me in the eye at your funeral.

But it's too late, ain't it?

It's not even revenge, after all, he's retiring as a millionaire, and I don't care.

Maybe, at least, things will improve for those who stayed in the company.

My friend, it's been 5 months and the worst part is there is noone I can talk to about you.