How the heck do I get some help?
??? Here’s what I’ve been trying to find answers to:
Hi
I’m here to ask for financial help and I know I’ve got a bit of a hide asking for it but I’m getting desperate. I won’t tell you my life history – unless you ask for it – but I will tell you that I’m struggling to hang on to the things I have.
In 2007 I started losing control of things. After dinner one night, my partner of 20 years asked me if I would be willing for him to find a partner for sex on the internet and we live as platonic friends. He said I didn’t want sex any more and it was still very important to him. It’s not that I didn’t want sex, just not with him. You see, we had fallen out of love and were starting to live very different lives. I really loved the gym and mixing with young people; he started listening to talk back radio and playing games on the computer. Every time we made love, I knew exactly what he would do, how long it would take, etc.
I agreed, thinking of my house, my pets, my life… It was hard watching him pack his ‘weekend’ bag to go off to his girlfriend’s place every week, feeling like I was such a failure. In fact, when my mother died, I was in the US on a business/holiday trip (I worked for a travel company). He emailed me to tell me mum had died. I arranged to fly back into Auckland (where I lived at the time), and then fly out to Brisbane Australia, where my eldest sister would pick me up from the airport and we drove to Kempsey where my mum and step father (Pops) lived, to make it to her funeral. They even delayed the funeral for a day so I could make it.
When I got back to Auckland, I found that my ex had emailed a friend of his to ask if they could meet up for sex before he had to meet me at the airport with summer clothes etc, as he had a couple of hours to fill in. I’ve always found this very upsetting that he tried to organize a ‘sex appointment’ on the day I was leaving to go to my mother’s funeral. I arrived at Auckland airport at 6am and flew out to Brisbane at 9am, then had an eight hour drive to Kempsey.
I had started looking after homeless cats in my area and had 18 cats as well as my own two that I cared for. Most of them weren’t tame but I caught all of them, had them de-sexed and let them go to lead a fairly normal life until they died of natural courses. Well, when it came time to put the house on the market, I had to catch most of them and have them put down, as I couldn’t let them live a terrible life with no one looking after them and no food. It was heart wrenching.
After 12 months, the house didn’t sell – it went on the market just at the downfall for property investment. My ex asked me if I wanted to buy him out – to which I agreed and got a really good price! I might say that I did all the upkeep, open homes, maintenance etc. He wouldn‘t come on to the property once he moved out, ironically after someone showed interest in me…. Anyway, I finally decided to move back to Australia. I was always going to, it was just a matter of when.
My idea was that I’d come back home, look after Pops until he passed and then move back down to the Sydney area to be closer to my family. Pops died before I could do that. As I had already set things in motion, I decided to continue with my plans. This also meant that I had to deal with the other cats that had found their way to my place – they just arrive! It was again heart breaking to trap them and have them put down. Killing animals that I had looked after since many of there were kittens, isn‘t what I do. My middle sister gave me a lot of grief over that and said that I should just leave them and they’d find other places that would look after them – I couldn’t risk that given that I’ve see what happens to animals that have to fend for survival.
This brings me to where I am now. It hasn’t turned out the way I envisioned it.
My middle sister, took me in. I was going to stay with her until I found a job and got a place of my own. Things were great for about four months and we congratulated each other, as we are so ‘caulk and cheese’. Then it all went down hill. I won’t bore you with the details, I’ll just say that it was mostly my fault. My drinking. And it’s getting worse.
I can’t stop.
I’ve got my perfect home – a two story apartment, looking out onto leafy trees, sulphur crested cockatoos, a pool and gym – I love this place. I don’t want to lose it. That’s why I’ve contacted you and am asking you to help me.
I would go to rehab but then, I wonder how I’ll explain that when I next go for an interview. If I’m honest, how will they react? If I’m not, how will they react? What do I do? And in the mean time, how do I keep the place I love so much?
I’m skipping some things. I’m really proud that I’ve been able to give my nephew the best holiday that he’s had to date. I love him and want to have many more holidays with him.
Thank you for listening to me. Feel free to email me at this address (email removed). I know much of the contact I get won’t be good. But until you’ve been in this situation, you don’t know what it’s like.
Jude xxx
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