Over the past few days, Ive been in a mood. No one can say or do something to cheer me up. I feel really bad about it. Cause I do want to be cheered up and be my content self, but nothing helps and I should really not speak to anyone I like untill this is over.
I feel like my skin is really thight and I cant do anything. Like an elastic is wrapped all around me and its pulling me back when I try to do something about my feelings. When I move too much, when I think too much, when I try to smile too much. Its keeping my intire self passive. But underneath theres this chaos shaking me nervously. Like Im not having any rest. It makes me unable to focus on anything or anyone. I compare it with someone shaking you just a tiny bit. You can still see everything, but its like theres a part missing, that you should be experiencing. Youre not picking the stimulations and you cant get the sensation you should be getting.
As a result I cant fully get into a conversation. Even if Im not thinking about whats upsetting me. I cant enjoy chatting. I cant get away from whats going on inside me.. And this makes me irritatable. I snap, I whine, I lack interest but I cant think of anything to talk about myself.
I think Im panicing. I start doubting myself. Im convinced Ill fail, but I know I cant give up the goal Ive set up for myself . I need to get to where I want to be or I'll beat myself up about it for the rest of my life. And so I do whatever it is I have to do, half hearted. I need to get out of this and I need to get out of this soon, or Ill mess up another oppurtunity to get as close to my goal as I can.
Im a bit happier now, being able to capture the feeling. Makes me a bit proud.
Mum has the tendency to go over the top with her cleaning. Instead of doing to most necesarry tasks first, like sweeping and mopping the floor, taking the dust off, cleaning the windows, starting with the most visible rooms. Mum does it the other way around. Like washing off the stairs ceiling and walls. This was the week before my sister got married. She started off with those tasks and ended up panicing the day before the marriage because she hadnt finished cleaning everything. She still had to do the kitchen, livingroom and toilet around 7 pm. The three places the guests would be seeing. She was then getting very nervous about minor things, snapping at everything and everyone for no good reason. Its not that much work to clean those rooms, not unless youre R.H. She didnt see the wood for the trees! She had to take some sedative that night.
Occasionally she drops her cloth to try and fix something. Taking the specific object all apart to later leave it when shes gotten to the point she has to admit she cant do it. Thats when shes done more harm than good or when she doesnt have all the tools to do it. Only today she tried to fix a table. Its still not fixed. A while back she had a go at my sink. I had tried it before actually. It turned a bit into a messy disaster when I dismantled the thing without putting a bucket underneath it first. All the water splashed onto the floor. Later when I tried putting it all back together I saw a plastic ring was missing. I put it back together anyway. The first couple of weeks it was leaking a bit, but advantually it stopped. Later I had a bit of trouble again with my sink but I left it, figuring I would really need the ring this time and I didnt want to dismantle it twice. So one day I asked mum for help when I had to get my computer upstairs. When I got into my room with part of the computer she was about to dismantle my sink. She did think of a bucket though. When she had to put the whole thing together again she noticed the plastic ring missing. She left off leaving my sink like it was When Im in my room now, its like Im in some disgusting pipe. I cant put cleaning stuff in it, because its all in pieces at the moment.
Mum also has this habbit of ignoring all youre saying when youre telling her somethings not working. She has to see for herself. The other day our cooker had the electricity falling out every time we turned one on. I tried every button and dad turned the electricity on each time. We figured some water got into it. When mum got back I told her she had to wait for tea a bit because of the cooker that wasnt working, presuming water got in. She went into the kitchen as I said to dad Shell see for herself . FLASH. Electricy fell out.
Is it just the little one?
No, its all of them.
FLASH
Mum puts electricity back on and returns to the kitchen.
You sure its not just the one?
Yes
FLASH
Mum puts electricity back on and returns to the kitchen.
But that red lights still on and none of the burners are on?
My relationship with my dad is two-sided. We share our interests and we can talk about all sorts of subjects. Dad sometimes tell's me to read a book or to listen to a song. We talk about our views on things or things we've heared. We talk about the way we are and how that influences our behavior and even the other side of our relationship. Talking with and seeing him too often (he works at home) has it's downside. We often get aggitated by eachother. Dad sometimes feels like I've got some nerve not doing what I'm told straight away. And I often think my dad's like a spoiled child. He always wants to have things his way. And when we frustrate eachother it can last for days, weeks, months. It's got a big influence on the both of us. Sometimes it's very subtle and not seen by outsiders, but I always know when we're in conflict and I always know where it came from. My relationship with my mum is different. It's one I don't understand as well as I understand the one I have with dad. Years I spend trying to figure out what ticks me off and what ticks him off. And by now I've got a good picture of the dynamics between us. Me and my mum, however, have a whole different interaction. I might dedicate a few blogs about it to try and figure it out. It might be because of the way we approach eachother. I can't remember a single conversation about our interests. As I've said in a previous blog, everything between us is practical. I don't actually think of them as conversations. They're mostly all just single questions bound together. And the questions she asks me, annoy me a big deal. They annoy me, cause they are often asking something else. "What is "chatting" ?", would mean: "Is this costing me anything?". "Where have you been?" , often means "Did you go to class?"."When do your exams start?" equals " When do I have to start keeping an eye on you?" . And if she sees me reading around the time exams are coming up and she wonders if I'm studying, she asks "What are you reading?". Often the second question is closer to what she really wants to know. I always find it annoying.
She means well and it shows good parenting. But we'd know a lot more about eachother if we really talked. My mum's side of the family don't have a lot of social skills. I'm afraid I sometimes take after them. Or I fear I do and doubt my sincerety when I talk to people and I lose all spontaneity and end up doing what I feared I'd do.
Dad had an epilepsy ceisure again last night. Last one he had was almost a year ago. His eyesight that got affected by the cerebral hemorrhage that started it all, was just improved enough that he could start driving again somewhere in december. Dad was excited for a whole week. And now he can't drive for another whole year. It's going to be a major slap in the face for him.
It's stress, definitely stress this time. It's quite busy for accountants and he's doing all that work by himself. He's been working so much for the past month to get everything done. And then there's the baby. Dad just became a granddaddy. It's something he's been waiting for for years now and it finally happened. I think all the emotions, the good and the bad, have gotten to him again. I saw it coming last wednessday when the baby was born. Dad was awefully quiet in the hospital. No one really noticed cause of all the joy and happiness around, but I made sure I kept an eye on him. The few days after that he was still a bit blown away, but he seemed to be recovering from it all. Yesterday I wasn't really worrying anymore. But it did strike me that wednessday though, how easily he get's affected by things these days and how hard it is for us to detect any possible stressfactor. When even good events can be a trigger. Those never ring an alarmbell. Of course the mainfactor was a stressfull workingperiod.
When mum got home she did the usual. Running around cleaning up, trying to get back in control of things. But she isn't and she's dead scared. Another side of mum I'm slowly beginning to know. It makes me want to be able to talk to her. I only talk to mum in a practical way. We seem to be unable to chitchat, to chew the fat. I've tried before. When we're shopping alone, I try to pay attention to her and to talk, but it never seems to work. I'm not sure if she feels the need to talk to me. And I usually don't feel the need to talk to her. But it's on occasions like these that I wished I could say something to her that went through, that meant something. Not because I want to be the important person that saves the day. I'm scared that she needs someone when no one's there. She's got a good friend and she's got my sister, but I'm around when mum has the hardest time. That's when she's at home unable to find something to do. During the day she goes to see dad, she arranges things with the hospital, with his clients and so on. That's when she can pop in and talk to her friend or my sister. When she has to go home at the end of the day she's on her own. And there's only that much cleaning you can do. I know she hates being on her own. She's said it once. Last year she was alone with dad when I was on holiday and my brother stayed at his girlfriends. It made her feel a bit sad, she said. And she's said she couldn't sleep on her own in her bed, last time dad was in the hospital. So mum was very alone yesterday. I asked about dad when she got back (I couldn't get there last night), and after that I thought it was better if I didn't try to talk to her. I think she prefers that. But I kept her company. We watched telly together and I tried staying up, but I was dead tired from the night before, so I dozed off quite a few times. I think I did the best I could do. But I wish I could do more for her. She's my mum.
A Spot Of Bother, Mark Haddon's latest book, is about George, Jean, Katie and Jamie. Each have their own problems to face, but none of them can go around everyone else's. George suffers from cancer. At least he thinks he suffers from cancer. What he mistakesd for cancer appears to be eczema, which can be cured by simply putting some creme on. However, knowing that doesn't stop George from having panicattacks and a depression. He fears the end is near. Jean is George's wife. Her marriage is not what she wished it was and so one day she finds herself in bed with another man. She cares for George, but it just doesn't do anymore. She wants more and maybe it's time she took it. But what about George? Katie is the feisty daughter, about to marry a man who will take care of her and her kid. Whether she really loves Ray, she isn't really sure. Next to love, there might be other explanations for why she is marrying Ray. Is it because he get's along with Jacob and he can fix anything on the planet or is it because her parents tell her not to? Jamie is Katie's gay brother. He get's dumped by his boyfriend when he is tired of Jamie remaining single in their relationship. That puts Jamie at the start of a struggle. Where will he end up if he doesn't change?
So those are their own problems. On top of that are everyone else's. Both of the children will have to coope when the roles are turned around... a father that is expected to deal with his own problems cries out on their shoulder and they need to tell mum off for having an affair. Both the parents, especially Jean, have to deal with a daughter who is about to marry someone they don't like and probably no one - including Katie- loves and a son that has a "collegue" he's very close with. And all of them have a past together, like every family has.
Mark Haddon is a very gifted author. All the problems in the relationships in and out the family are made so clear in subtles ways. It takes a while before you really get into it, you have to get to know the characters at first, but it's worthwhile. Check the website out for extracts. It might lead to an exciting new read. http://www.randomhouse.co.uk/minisites/aspotofbother/
Only 12 months ago my dad had a cerebral hemorrhage. It was very big and he was very, very lucky that it was on a spot where it didn't do much harm. Normally a hemorrhage of that size would lead to paralysis of a big part of the body or death. My dad only suffered minimal damage. He lost a quarter of his eyesight of each eye. Other than that he has a bit more problems with oriëntation and concentration. But nothing you'd really notice if you didn't know him before. After that they said he'd probably never be able to drive again. This because of his eyes. Very frustrating for him. He loved the freedom it gave him. He also wasn't allowed to work for a certain amount of time. In september (when I was on holiday even) he suddenly had to be brought to the hospital. When my dad started to act weird at home, my mum got worried and called the ambulance. She left to the hospital just before the ambulance drove away. When she got to the hospital the ambulance hadn't arrived yet, but she saw the "MUG" drive away. This was for my dad. Eventhough it's only 5 kilometers from our house to the hospital. At one point the ambulance had to stop and call them to come and take over. I got a phonecall from mum saying that my dad was in the hospital and that this time he wouldn't be so lucky. Later I heared that he showed all the signs of a cerebral hemorrhage at the core of the brain. There would be no chance of him getting out of this without a paralysis of most of the body, if he would survive at all. We were very relieved to hear that this was not the case. My dad had his first epilepsy attack. This was a status epilepticus though. He would've died if there wasn't anyone around to call in for help. He was again lucky. All the doctors were surprised by the luck my dad has had so far. He could've died twice. When he had the cerebral hemorrhage no one was around and dad himself couldn't do much. He had lost his coördination of his eyes and couldn't see any telephonenumber completely. He, to his own surprise, could remember his mum's number and phoned her to tell her to warn someone. And when he had his first epilepsy attack my mum was around. Only the next day he would get permission to work again from the doctor. He obviously didn't get it after that.
Yesterday my dad had his second epilepsyattack. They went to taste the menu for my sister's wedding and he had a little bit of wine. They had said last time that the attack had to be caused by stress. He was feeling quite alright these days, he says himself. We think the wine escalated everything. I phoned my mum to tell her what time I had to be in Sint Niklaas the next day. Dad was being very weird when he picked that phone up. He said that it started earlier, but he hadn't said anything about it yet. He was getting scared though. My mum luckily noticed and called my sister. We both were in our pyjama's. We dressed ourself and actually got ready very calm and in control. I wasn't too worried. I knew it was an epileptic attack, it had to be. I also knew we read the signs a lot earlier and we would be in the hospital on time where they can help him. I was very sure that he'd be alright. We got him in the car and into the hospital. He just stared in front of him and looked absent the whole time. In the hospital they did some tests. He still hadn't had an attack. When my mum and the doctor were talking, my sister and I kept looking at dad. And suddenly he got his first attack that evening. I had to walk away from there. I couldn't handle seeing it. I didn't cry, I left before I could get to that. I just focused on calling my brothers and just thought about what I knew about epilepsy. That wasn't a lot really. But the things I knew were enough. I knew a lot of people have epilepsy. I even saw a dog helping a person with epilepsy. If a dog can help, surely doctors can. When I went back inside, it was over. He had a second attack and then a third one after me and my sister left. Between the attacks my dad was just starring in front of him or he was looking at us. It was horrible to see. I didn't know wheter he was listening to the things I said or not. I didn't know if all that got through. Today my dad said that he heard everything. He was mostly focussing on trying to reply. But he just couldn't. I think he only reacted twice to the things I said to him. Just something that came close to a smile when I was joking around a bit. I didn't want to look too scared, so I made little jokes. I thought that if I looked too worried, he'd feel bad. Cause parents do, right? When their kids feel desperate and horrible, they want to do something about it. They can't stand the look on their face. Well I know my dad will feel that horrible. I know my mum couldn't pull of a smile, my sister couldn't either and my brother... he just kept quiet the whole time. He didn't say a single thing. So I did. I kept strong and possitive. Took over my mum's thing.What happened to dad really broke her. It looks like she has a harder time being strong. Cause with this she is on her own.
I saw dad today. He can laugh with my little jokes now. Feels good to have someone laughing with my jokes.
