Me Time

I love the silence of music.

‘What?’ I hear you ask.

I find nothing more soothing than listening to music very loudly, where it drowns out not only whats going on around me but more importantly whats going on in my head.

When I reach a point when I hear nothing but I feel every beat; like a heart beat, my mums heart beat as she cuddles me to her breast (not that I have a memory of that, but I can imagine can’t I?).

I have bought new headphones, large soft padded ones, they have an extra long lead that I have plugged into the TV. My old ones were small and the lead was too short.

I no longer go to discos (nightclubs for ye young folk) so the only place to get my peace is in my own sitting room.

The room is rectangular in shape, with double doors to the dining rm/kitchen at one end, a door to the hall, a window at the other. You know the room, its in every housing estate in Ireland.

The large navy three piece suite just about fits, along with the TV in one corner and gas fireplace with its wooden surround taking up center position.

But it has enough room for me to plug in those headphones and lose myself to whatever music is on the dance channel on the TV. The louder the better, the more ‘boom, boom’ beats the better. I move slowly and silently to the beat. The privacy giving me total freedom.

And I am not going to disturb the neighbour’s that live both sides of us in our new mid-terraced wooden framed house, with its paper thin walls the only thing separating us from them.

Or my beautiful sleeping baby in his Moses basket in another corner of the room.

I need that silence today.

Inside my head are these loud noises and I need to drown them out.

Not the loud noises associated with an illness, thankfully I’m not sick, no, these are loud screams. Only I can hear them.

They are my screams, I am screaming at myself, fat lot of good that is gonna do.

So I am trying to drown them out, drown the cries, drown the sound of that hairline fracture in my heart getting a little bit bigger. It had been healing, it had healed a lot during those 9 months while I was pregnant.

‘Boom, boom, boom’ is the only noise in my head now, like my heart beat. A feeling rather than a sound.

I have my ‘silence’.

I am feeling better, calmer, renewed.

But I knew if I got just a few minutes peace I would feel a whole lot better, maybe I could drown them for good too.  It has worked before, temporarily  and maybe it might work again.

HE is at work, with a hangover no doubt. Lovely.

He hasn’t phoned or text yet and its already 3 in the afternoon. I pretended to be asleep when he got up for work this morning, thankfully baby slept through it too. Good timing son.

Not that I expected him to ring/text. But I had hoped he would’ve. I wished and wished really hard this time. I prayed that this time it would be different.

That he would have had time to think, think about all the things he said last night, all the things he called me. Time to feel remorse, feel regret for last nights argument. I hate it when he gets drunk; stupid football match and stupid ‘I like a few cans when its on’, but I shouldn’t have commented on it, I should realise by now how important watching his team on the TV is to him and having his stupid few cans. Ha, few me arse, there is 8 empties in the bin this morning.

But I am not a ‘fucking bitch’, I am not a ‘fucking cunt’, and I am a good mother, I just know I am. But he is right, I am not good at keeping the house clean, I am aware of that, but baby comes first, and when he sleeps I’m too tired to do anything. He’ll know all about it when these three months of maternity leave are up.

And here I am dossing again, getting some ME time while my baby sleeps.

Oh not for much longer though; I glance over at him, he’s waking up. I take my headphones off, plug out my ‘me time’, lift the remote control to switch off the dance channel to stick on day time TV instead and my babe is awake.

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9 Responses to Me Time

  1. limmster says:

    I ‘liked’ this but I don’t. I like the writing and the story. I don’t like that you had to go through that. I don’t know what to say to you. You’re a brave woman, I admire that. Hugs x

  2. hi there mk
    another brilliantly insightful piece, laced with angst and pain, loaded with self preservation, i find it hard to comprehend the man you describe, not because i’ve never met them because i have, not because i don’t understand them because i do, but because i don’t accept that ,that is what we should accept as a picture of manhood, that, that is what we should accept as a template of fatherhood, that, that is what we should accept as an example of a loving partner. The man you describe is lost, he is missing out on what makes being a man great, all men need to stand up and teach our fellow men and women how to be, how to act,how to love and how to be vulnerable. Keep writing, we need to hear your words, we need to know what you want to tell us. I will never ever miss an opportunity to talk about the right way with my male and female friends. Love is love. we are born equal, born with differing strengths, born with the ability to choose. I choose to honour,love,respect,support,comfort and share all i have and am with my life partner. I can only hope that you gain some sense of comfort from what you write.
    xx ado

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