Coping

This is something I wrote ages ago and although its less relevant today, now that I'm happier (although it may not seem it after reading the previous vents!), I thought I'd include it anyway as its nice to look back sometimes.

There's no getting away from the fact that life is complicated and getting ever more so as time goes on.  Not only does it feel like there's a never ending supply of bureaucracy to satisfy, the expectations of society on me, and probably all of us, as individuals seem to be increasing daily.  I can juggle the paperwork, I can fill out the forms, I can find my way through the jungle of officialdom, but what I can't do is keep up the appearance of coping, that I feel I have to without something else in my life suffering and the ramifications of that are proving a rather large problem.

Life for our grandparents and even our parents had its own complexities, but it seems that everyone has so much more to deal with these days.  Nothing is simple, everything has a rule, a procedure and a form to fill.  Most of the time different sections in the same organisation don't seem to communicate, never mind different organisations, leaving the individual to do the linking and the tieing in and often the individual will be so fed up by doing the organisation's work for it, they'll just give in.  Better that and do without the wanted product, the compensation, the explanation; than shorten one's life expectancy any more!

A result of all this juggling is often a feeling of being out of control.  I can't speak for anyone else, but I find that my life is becoming increasingly difficult to manage as each movement within it seems governed by its own set of rules, sometimes imposed by society, sometimes imposed by myself and as a result of this, at times I am grasping for control.  Sometimes this manifests in the ugliest of ways - having an expectation of other people and trying to control them and their actions as a result.  I know this is counter intuitive, but nevertheless its one of the first things that I instinctually try for when feeling that my life isn't my own and is being unfairly imposed upon by other people.

Having expectations of others can of course, be very healthy thing.  The right expectations can demonstrate that one is worthy of respect, that ones has boundaries and what they may be.  It encourages mutually beneficial circumstances.  However, unreasonable hopes and especially the way they are presented, are undoubtedly harmful both to the people those expectations are imposed on and, in this specific case, me the 'expector'.

I can't control other people, their actions, their beliefs, their values, no matter how hard I may try and I certainly will lose all hope of anyone understanding my conflicting values if I *demand* they are respected.  People will be themselves, no matter what and all I can do is express my own sometimes conflicting values in a calm and considerate way.

And there is another side to all this effort to control one's own life, to cope with the stresses and strains that comes from society and other people; not being seen to cope is almost worse than not coping itself.  The stigma attached to 'losing control' is an addition pressure that is maybe more harmful than anything to do with not being in charge of one's life.  God forbid I am seen as anything but confident, in charge of my life and having everything in order, and maybe this is one the reasons why people turn to drink and drugs, anything to help with the pressure of life and the expectations of other people.

I have no doubt that I am considered a 'loser' by many people - yet another thing to find a way to cope with........

Pass the bottle.......

Confidence tricks

I've never been massively confident, always questioning myself after much of what I say or do, but at least I've been sure enough of my worth to believe that I'm ok really and despite everything, not a bad person to have around.  This is also inspite of being disabled, which does more damage to one's confidence than anything else.  Not surprisingly, the interactions with the vile women on the compound helped to knock the belief I had in myself and left me not just questioning myself, but not daring to say or do anything in the first place, however it wasn't those women that shook my confidence the most, but the relationships I had with women I had counted as at least acquaintances if not actually friends, that did the most damage.

I found myself with loads of women to socialise with and counted myself very, very lucky that there seemed to be so many good people that outweighed the bad ones by far.  But then gradually I realised I was being socially gazumped.  These women would make plans to meet up with me and then cancel, many times with what I felt was a spurious reason.  And it wasn't a rare occasion, it would happen four times out of every five.  I had a 'friend' that talked about doing a fitness class with me and promised to see if a shop that she was about to go to, had the piece of fitness equipment  she had recommended to me. When I asked her about it 'oh, I forgot'.  Really? 10 minutes after telling me all about it and advising me to get it?  She also 'forgot' all about inviting me to the fitness class.  Again, I'd just think 'oh well, she didn't like me that much as a friend after all', if it weren't for the fact she still tried to use my friendship for her own gain when her husband got himself into trouble and my husband had to investigate it.  That's just manipulative.

I have another acquaintance that decided quite early on that it was perfectly fine to make fun of the fact I use a wheelchair.  Again, I blame myself for giving the impression that that was ok and for making fun of myself, but this is something that I can do with people that know me and weirdly I have no problem with my good friends taking the mickey because it feels like its done affectionately. I suppose I just have a problem with those that haven't known me long.  She actually told me I must stop her if she goes too far, but I'm not her mother to teach her what is acceptable and if she goes far enough for me to need to tell her to stop, surely she must realise the damage is already done?  But, all that aside, what I can't forgive is her doing it infront of my husband.  How does she think it makes him feel to have the woman he loves, the woman he married, being made fun of for being disabled?

Apart from all that, the thing that really, really annoys me about the people out here is the glib way they do the WMD (We Must Do..... fill in the blank as appropriate) when it becomes patently clear that they had zero intention of carrying it through. One guy, a friend of my husband's, has been promising to 'get us out on the boat' every time he's seen us for the last two years.  We haven't even seen a picture of the damn boat, never mind had actual plans made to go out on it.  And he's not rare, countless times I've had the 'we must get you round for supper', 'lets go to the new exhibition', 'give me your number, we'll do coffee'.  And its left me wondering what it is about me that makes people feel they have to offer to socialise with me when they have absolutely no intention of doing so.  I have friends, I have a life, and I'm not desperate for you to complete it.

Rank is no indication of class

One of the most surprising things of living in this compound is the inappropriate behaviour allowed and even carried out by the senior officers and their wives.  I've already mentioned how their children are allowed to use communal areas without the required supervision of an adult and how there was no apology for the children's attacks on my husband and I; well, the bad behaviour goes beyond that.

Before I go on, I should explain the structure of the housing here for the British armed forces.  First off, there are three compounds; one, where I live, with the most senior officers - Lt Colonels and full Colonels and their equivalents; another two with mixed ranks of Major and below.

For a short time one of the Major equivalents and his wife were living on our compound.  It saved them moving more than they needed to, having been subject to a ridiculous amount of moves in the last few years, which they'd done with no complaint and in all good humour.  A senior officer's wife was overheard telling one of her friends that it 'lowered the tone' having a Major equivalent living on our compound.

I took this story with a pinch of salt, wondering if she had been misunderstood somehow.  After all, I hadn't witnessed her being directly nasty, only indirectly, and ever willing to believe the best in people and the worst of myself, I wondered if she could have been joking or something, but then I heard another story that made me exchange that salt for a whole heap of belief.

Chatting to one of the officers one day, he relayed to me how he had overheard this woman discussing one of the other wives on the compound. 'Oh, she never goes out anywhere, I don't know what she does all day'.  Regardless of the fact she saw fit to gossip about anyone in any context, the officer who had overheard this little exchange didn't hesitate to correct her.  The wife she was discussing does indeed 'go out' and is a significant contributor in the Anglo Oman society as well as having an active social life.  But really, even if a wife never left their house, what business is it of hers to judge?

Classy?  Not so much.

Good things come to those who wait

So, depression figured largely in my life for quite a while but I was pulled out of my ever narrowing world by two factors.  First and foremost my friends, both the ones in the UK, who are a constant source of support, and two women in Oman who consistently demonstrate their gentle integrity and strength. But more interestingly, I was also able to shed my anxiety by the increasing awareness it wasn't just me and my loved ones that were the focus for hateful behaviour, and therefore, the poor treatment we'd received wasn't my fault but infact down to those delivering it.

Chatting to a friend one day, who incidently has nothing to do with the military or the compounds we live on, I was told that one of the women who had been so unfriendly to me had asked my friend about the riding for the disabled group that my friend was involved with.  'Do they give free rides to the volunteers?' she had asked.  My friend explained that the horses were there for the benefit of the disabled people, not the volunteers and this woman responded 'well, I won't bother with it then.' and sure enough she didn't get involved.  A few weeks later, my friend expanded on this ever illuminating story about this woman.  Walking her dogs on the beach one day, she had met someone else my friend knows. Unbeknown to this woman, the person she met was actually the chief riding instructor for the riding for the disabled group.  In a surreal scenario, this woman who had been so patronising and offhand with me, delighted in telling her that infact she was the instructor.

This was hugely reassuring to me, if very strange behaviour.  Each time I had tried to talk to this woman, I had either been brushed aside with the rather weird excuse that she was 'spaced out', or challenged in some way. Fortunately I'd always managed to meet her attempts to show me up or put me down.  However, as this woman had made no effort at any interaction with me, I didn't continue to push for any friendliness for very long, and with the knowledge that she was actually not only incredibly selfish, but also a liar and very, very odd to boot, it made it far easier to stop being bothered by her disregard for me.

Despite realising that one of the wives who had been so nasty had problems, I was still very hurt about the woman who had reminded me that I 'was nothing special' treatment of myself and my husband.  She had clearly taken a dislike to me right from the start for whatever reasons that I still have no idea about, but my husband is such a likeable, straight and kind man, she and her family had no reason to behave so badly towards him, and it was very distressing.  Two of the other wives were also continuing to be unkind, gossiping about me and trying to cause bad feeling against us with our friends.  However my distress didn't last as I found out that we were not the only family to be targeted with vindictive behaviour.  It transpired that another wife on the same compound had been subject to utter nastiness and as a direct result had decided to leave the country with her husband still serving here, to return to the UK on her own; only seeing her husband when he went back to the UK on leave or she came out for short holidays.  Although I was and still am disgusted that anyone could get away with causing this scale of misery, it did reassure me, at least, that I didn't need to take the bad behaviour personally, the problems lay firmly elsewhere.  However, it didn't stop them resurfacing....

And then first impressions can be right

So, knowing that I had been the subject of rumour and gossip, which was mainly about my age, about me being a second wife and about the fact I am disabled; I felt rather defensive and apprehensive when I first met the other wives.  However I am sensible and intelligent enough to not voice or show my concerns at times like that, it pays to play the long game and who knows how true the accusation of them gossiping about me was?  Nevertheless, despite trying to keep an open mind, those worries were proved largely correct.  There was no welcome from these women and very little friendliness proffered. One wife thought it appropriate to stare at me for the duration of our meeting, not smiling back, not even looking away when I caught her gaping for no apparent reason; and another told me 'no, thank you', as you might correct a small child, after I'd only said 'no' when refusing her too-late offer of help with getting my wheelchair up three steps.   Yes, I probably should have said 'thank you', but having struggled and knowing she'd watched me struggle, was rather less inclined to be as polite as I normally am. Nevertheless, when she confronted me over the 'awful look' I'd given her when she'd patronised me, I ended up apologising.  How on earth did that happen?  Well, it was because at that time I would subjugate myself for an easy life and I wanted to be friends with people that I would see regularly.  I learnt quickly that this, along with any other overtures of friendliness, seemed to be seen as a weakness and I would be attacked accordingly.

On that note, the first attack came from yet another wife on the compound.  This woman would prove to be as vindictive and nasty a person as I have ever met. At first friendship seemed in the offing, so I invited her for coffee at the house that I was still in the process of making a home having arrived in country only a couple of weeks before.  She asked how I was finding Oman and I told her I loved it, but was finding the stares difficult to get used to.  As I’ve mentioned, I’m disabled and so I use a wheelchair most of the time, otherwise crutches. Oman isn’t known for its wheelchair access and consequently there are very few wheelchair users seen out and about, hence the stares.  This wife took it upon herself to think I was boasting about my looks and told me ‘Oh we’re all stared at, you’re nothing special’. She didn’t even have the courtesy to apologise after I pointed out her mistake.  It also goes to show how little sensitivity she must have thinking I'm going to think I'm attractive when I'm severely disabled.

But that wasn’t the end of this woman's attempts to put me down.  My husband and I had invited the whole compound to a fancy dress party we were going to hold and she told me I was brave for doing so because I didn’t know anyone. Surely that was the point?  A little later, when I expressed my concern about another wife, an ex-personal fitness instructor who had offered to help me with my physio, ‘working me hard’, as I am physically very vulnerable, she became angry with me to the point of raising her voice, telling me I was ridiculous to find it worrying, and so it went on.  And I still went to her house for coffee at a later date in an attempt to smooth our path.

But she wasn't the only person on the compound with a problem. A major bone of contention here are the shared areas, or rather the people using them.  These areas consist of a swimming pool, a gym and a club house, all in one place behind a gated wall.  Because these areas are not staffed, there is a rule, put in place by the Senior British Loan Service Officer, a General, that no one under the age of 16 can use these areas without being accompanied by an adult. 

Many of the families on the compound, including two of the most senior officers, had decided that rule shouldn’t apply to their children coming home from boarding school, and were happy for them to use the areas unaccompanied.  This is not only in complete disregard for an order given by a senior officer, but also with complete disregard for any other adult being forced into a position of responsibility for other people’s underage children when using the pool at the same time as them.  

This situation blew up when my husband and I witnessed some very underage children, friends of one of the boarding school boys, climbing on the gate to open the deliberately high latch, which resulted in the gate becoming loose and impossible to open and close properly, and having to be repaired, which took time and money.  At the time we saw this happening, we asked the children to leave the swimming pool as we were doing some diving training and couldn’t supervise them, and when they decided to play in the gym instead, another officer who was using it at the time, asked them to leave (despite being happy for his own underage children to use that facility unsupervised).  This apparently offended the mother of the boy who was hosting the children and she wasted no time in talking about my husband and I in the worst of terms.  Not once did she come and talk to us to get an explanation.  


In an attempt to prevent the gate being broken again and avoid a similar situation, my husband put a sign on it asking people not to climb on it.  We thought that was it, until we found the sign ripped down and stuck to the bonnet of one of our cars, our doorbell rang late at night with nobody there when the door was answered, and balls repeatedly kicked into our garden, damaging the plants and frightening our cats.  We did find out who had rung the doorbell, but neither the children responsible, nor their parents apologised.


I had been harangued by a wife over the sign and was told, when reminding her that there was a supervision requirement, 'well it was never enforced until you two came along', and then later, when reassuring her that I was fully aware her children hadn't broken the gate in the first place, 'I know my children, I'm a mother, you're not'.  Which was not only completely irrelevant, but made me lose all motivation to be understanding and conciliatory and at this point I asked her to stop being such a fucking cow.  I didn't bother apologising.

Despite my surge of courage when last talking to this woman, I felt targeted, shunned and very, very sad, I was too frightened to use the pool on my own, too intimidated to leave the house for more than essential shopping and my marriage suffered far too much.  It was a horrible, horrible time.

First impressions can be wrong

When we first arrived in Oman, I was unable to drive for a while as we didn't have an automatic car, which I need as I have incomplete paraplegia that means my left leg doesn't work properly.   So one of the wives, very kindly offered to show me around.  We went shopping, to various clubs and she took me to lovely places to sunbathe.  Wonderful, what a very kind lady, I thought.  However, as time went on it increasingly became apparent that she wasn't quite as generous as it would first seem, there was a price to be paid for her generosity and this cost turned out to be my unwavering respect and admiration of her, and a permanently open ear to all her problems and concerns, mainly with regards to her maid.*  


Anyway, to begin with I was happy with the exchange of being driven around for my agreeableness, it cost me nothing and if I could support someone, then it was my pleasure.  But things quite rapidly started going downhill.  After thanking her for driving me around and helping out with getting my wheelchair in and out of her car, she told me, jokingly, that it was ok and she would tip me out of my wheelchair if I was a problem.  Well, joking or not, I felt completely disrespected.  However, I know I can be over-sensitive, so I bit my lip and laughed along.  A little while later, she informed me that the other wives on the compound had been gossiping about me before I had even arrived, and this made me suddenly wary of her motivations in befriending me.  No matter how honest she was being, what was her purpose in making me defensive towards the other wives that shared my immediate surrounds before I'd even met them?  Before long I didn't want to continue in such a manipulative relationship when, extremely worried and upset about my step-son serving in Afghanistan, I told her in the hope she would at least empathise, but instead had my concerns dismissed with a 'that's why I'm glad my son didn't join the armed forces' and a quick change of subject.  Marvellous.

* We are all allocated at least one maid, largely to do with status which is a very important aspect for the Omanis. The full Colonels and their equivalents can have three members of staff; a house maid, an outdoor person and a driver.  It was rather telling who took full advantage of this and who didn't.

Gazumping

'Gazumping', what a wonderful, evocative, happy word this should be.  It sounds like a frolic through a meadow of flowers or a billowing dress made of silk and net and underskirts; not the unnecessarily hurtful thing it actually is. And if it wasn't bad enough being gazumped when one’s found the dream home, social gazumping takes it to a whole new level; because it's personal.  I'll get to this later.......


But first!

Moving to Oman in 2009, as the new wife of an RAF officer, I was excited and scared in equal measure. But I was sure I would be making new friends left, right and centre as there is no shortage of other women in the same position as me, and there would be a support network to take part in, both as supporter and supportee.  But as it has turned out, this couldn’t be further from the truth.


Names have been changed to protect those that really don't deserve it.