I should have guessed new years eve would be hell. I hate coming home and nights like this solidify my reluctance.
It started with a simple invite. My aunt invited me up for drinks and nibbles to see in the new year. She did not invite my sister who was sat with us at the time. My mum was not quick enough to ask my sister to stay up with her and BANG!!!!
She grabbed her kids, stormed home and 2 minutes later I got the call; fuck you loopy!! FUCK YOU for ruining my new years eve!!
She rang her partner to dump him, locked all the doors in her house, screamed at her kids to come away from the windows and threatened to drink herself into a coma.
Her partner arrived a little later and we eventually got in, but I’ve never seen such rage and venum spit as she listed all the ways that we have wronged her, listed all the reasons that she hates us and we left as she began to throw keys and glass at her partner.
The saddest thing was seeing her young daughter in floods of tears trying to make sense of everything and us not being allowed to comfort her.
My sister has a mental illness that she refuses to accept or own.
I want to flee here now, never to come back. I can’t watch my mum and dad in floods of tears as my sister threatens to take her kids away forever. I can’t cope with the instability and the chaos.
I don’t want to be here anymore.
Today I got a glimpse into my childhood. I bought my little niece lego classic for Christmas.
This afternoon as she was building happily, when my Dad noticed she was going slightly rogue with the instructions. He actually argued with a 7 year old little girl, insisting she was doing it wrong and raising his voice as he became more irritated and quite frankly irrational. It reduced my niece to tears and my mum was also weepy eyed.
My Dads character is difficult to explain. He is never deliberately mean, and is often the more affectionate of my parents, but he lacks sense.
He’s loud and boisterous with little man and becomes worse when little man cries despite me asking him to tone things down.
He would feed children sweets morning, noon and night, and I’ve caught him giving fizzy drinks that I don’t yet allow.
He always has to be right even if that means arguing with a child.
I consoled my niece and ordered my father to apologise. He did and myself and my niece completed the build with every colour of brick except the right ones.
Being at home has reignited my fears for little man. It’s hard to watch him getting stressed whilst my niece and nephews fuss and flock around him.
He is only 2, but everyone agrees that he cries more than an average toddler. He cries for no apparent reason. He cries when there’s noise and when he transitions from one activity to another. He’s still walking on his toes, although not all the time.
He has come on a lot this past few months in many ways. He shows me affection and plays with me and OH but there is just something about him that niggles at me, and makes me fear for his future.
My family are ncredibly loud though and actually they stress me out too.
I’ve had enough of being at home now, but I’ve got a week to go yet. I need to burn.
Tonight I saw old friends and we laughed and joked like old times. I was nervous, but thankfully they had sickened themselves with a few nights binge drinking before I got home, so there was much less pressure to drink. I nursed a Bud and stopped at 1.
We had fun playing board games and generally ripping the piss out of each other. One off my closest allies growing up will be off to Australia again in a few days, and it will likely be a few years before he’s home again.
I’m glad I came home. I’m glad I could enjoy the company off my friends and right now lying in bed, I’m glad that gale force winds and lashing rain are battering my bedroom window.
This is what home is meant to be like.
I’ve never felt so flat at Christmas. I’ve never felt so isolated and alone. I’ve just come back from a 17.5 km bike ride to clear my head. It hasn’t worked.
We’re not doing Christmas tomorrow as OH is working all day. I’m going to be alone with little man. I know I’m not the only one who will find tomorrow tough so I’m sending hugs to all off you.
I’m going home on the 27th and I don’t want to. I don’t want to be here in 2019. I’m on 3 different meds, I’m exercising and I’m trying. But it’s not working and I’m tired.
I’ve been struggling with food lately. I’ve been binging, feeling disgusting and vomiting. I was waking up in the morning with sore throats and let’s be honest, it will destroy my teeth.
My meds have helped a little I think, in that I’m binging a little less (when I do eat though it’s junk) and I’ve tried to replace vomiting with exercise.
I’ve just done a 16 km bike ride. When I’m out on my bike I’m not eating and I’m burning calories. I feel the need though to go further and further each night. I feel fat and disgusting if I don’t go. It’s becoming a bit of an addiction, but then I guess it’s better than vomuting?
I really really REALLY wish I could kick my ball again.
I need them, (to see me through the Christmas period) but now I find myself with too many pills. I’m googling OD effects, LD50’s and suicide successes. I’m thinking, now’s the time to consume them all!!!!
My thoughts are swaying to and fro; life or death. A shit life, or decades of decay in cold moist soil. A shit life, or broken families and a damaged child.
But then I’m damaging him. If I stay I’ll break him. If I go I’ll break him.
Can someone please fix me.