The Most Wonderful Time of the Year...?

This Christmas is a very odd one.  It's the first one without Dad.  It has crept up on me because I only went back to work after about four months on sick leave two weeks before, so hadn't been out and about noticing all the Christmas lights, decorations and build-up begin.

On Saturday, Mum, Big Sis, Bro-in-Law and I went to a Christmas sing-a-long concert at the Royal Albert Hall.  I was feeling decidedly unfestive when we arrived.  But it ended up being good fun and made me feel a little bit more Christmassy than I had been.  Mum had a voucher for dinner at the Hilton, so we went there afterwards and had a nice dinner in the Hawaiian-themed restaurant.  The fruit cocktails were lovely, I would  love to go there another time and have some of the rum ones!  After the meal, we went home and I threw some stuff into a bag so I could go back with Mum to hers.  That's when I found out that Big Sis and Bro-in-Law weren't going to Mum's for Christmas.

My family has never made a huge fuss over Christmas, but we've always at least had a gathering and lunch or dinner together.  It's become notably less and less important in recent years, which I think is a shame.  I really dislike how commercial Christmas has become and how irrelevant half of the things people worry about are.  But I like the fact that we have one day where everything stops, shops are closed and people are encouraged to get together, spend time in each other's company, watch old films and fun TV, have a nice meal as a family/group and buy each other gifts if they so wish to.  This year, Mum said that Big Sis and Bro-in-Law weren't obliged to come, partly because Big Sis has been spending time with Mum and they also went away to Lanzarote for a week a couple of weeks ago, and she thought she needed to spend some time with her husband!  That's the benefit of being legally bound to another.  Us singletons don't get a free pass to spend time alone, or with friends.

Basically, today has been a non-day, highlighted by the fact that everyone else is talking about their gatherings and Christmas dinners and presents and so on.  Today I have sat on the sofa since 11am, watching TV.  Mum has been sat in the armchair next to me doing the same.  I've intermittently been on my laptop, her on her iPad.  We haven't spoken all that much.  We don't often want to watch the same things, although I don't mind some of the things she puts on.  I felt like going upstairs to read or watch things online, but it felt a bit rude.  There were no presents, no special meal.  There are no Christmas decorations up.  Everything just feels empty and dead.  Now and then either or both of us would be crying, but not really acknowledging it in the other person.

I have retreated into my shell again, not talking to people because it's easier to hold things in and deal with them on my own than open up and not be understood.  Mum frequently makes comments about losing a spouse being much worse and more intense than losing a parent.  While I agree that is true to a degree, it feels like she has a monopoly on grief.  Every now and then she says the same things about how she feels, her own guilt, her own 'if onlys', etc.  I want to listen and reassure her, but it feels like a broken record.  I don't have enough emotional energy of my own to tell her it's OK.  Going over what we could have done differently doesn't help me in my own grieving process.  It's personal to her, as a wife, as a nurse, as my Dad's full-time carer for 18 months.  I want to remember the positive things about my Dad, the good memories I have.  Mum says she keeps having to remember how he was at the end, almost to reassure her that it was the right time for him to die, that he was unwell, weak and uncomfortable.  I had already accepted that my Dad was going to die.  His existence as a fraction of the human being he was made me feel uncomfortable and upset.  It still hurt so much when he died, but I can't deny the part of me that was relieved that his suffering and also my Mum's non-stop effort with caring had come to an end.  Part of my Mum's grief is occasionally going over what more she could have done, which is very specific to her.  I can't imagine dealing with the loss of someone who was your companion for 31 years.  But I know what it's like to lose my father of 30 years and it's painful.  Hypothetically, my Mum could find another companion.  But I can't find a new father.  I may find a new father figure, I may have a father-in-law some day, but the father who raised me, whose DNA makes up my own, whose character and influence moulded me into who I am today, that can't be replaced.

I feel like now my Dad has gone, I've lost an ally.  The family dynamic has changed.  My Mum and Big Sis have got more and more alike in recent years.  It's only now that Dad has passed away that I feel like a third wheel at times.  I liked similar things to my Dad.  I think I'm probably a bit more cynical, more realistic/negative, less religious, less strong in faith - all things my Dad was in some ways.  I frequently feel like I'm the odd one out in my family now.  It's something I never expected, probably because I never noticed it before, because Dad was always there to balance things out.

Today, I've felt more and more sad as the day has gone on.  It's the first time since immediately after my Dad died that I've really felt like crying and have done so.  I've felt pangs of jealousy at people who are having traditional Christmas family get-togethers.  I've felt resentful of people who are moaning about things they could probably be a little more grateful for.  I've felt isolated, lonely and misunderstood.  I've felt loss twice over - the loss of my Dad, and the loss of Samson, who I could always go to when I felt sad, even if I didn't know the reason.  I've felt lost and even more sad because finding that kind of understanding in a person is relatively uncommon.  Building up that sort of trust, where I'd feel comfortable enough to talk to someone when I feel low, takes time.  I fear I won't find it again.  Or more likely, that I won't trust enough again to open up sufficiently to develop that kind of relationship.  It just feels like no-one understands.  I have hardly any appetite at the moment.  I'm having one meal and a snack a day.  I have no money again and only got paid five days ago.  There just never seems to be an end to this perpetual cycle of sadness at the moment.

It feels like as I get older, birthdays and Christmas just highlight all my sadness even more.  I think this is part of why I want to settle down, find someone who is my partner for life, who is with me against the world, and start my own family.  So I can start my own traditions, have my own celebrations, do things in a way that will make me happy.  I'm fed up of being the reliable, go-to person for my family to rely on to go along with what they want, because I'm too emotionally retarded to be able to say no.  I'm fed up of being someone who people come to for advice, when they are feeling down or in need of reassurance, when they need someone to be there, but not being able to support me in my own times of sadness.  This is what happens when you get used to holding your own feelings back and putting on your 'strong' face for the world.  Even those closest to you can't tell the difference between the mask and your real face anymore.  You can't let the barriers down even when you want to.

No Exchanges

Me: Are you enjoying having Mum home now she's retired, or is she ruining all your fun?

Dad: She bosses me around you know. [Pause.]  But I wouldn't exchange her.

Me: Yeah, 'cause you've lost the receipt!  [Cue raucous laughter by Mum from the kitchen.]

Lady of Leisure

I got a text yesterday from Big Sis saying she had a message from Mum. She has been thinking for a few months about when she should retire, as there were two options for her pension and she had to choose one by July. One of the options was better if she was to retire in the next couple of years; the other was lots better if she retired from 65 onwards. She was trying to weigh up the options and asked Big Sis and I a while ago to both read through the information she had been sent to help her make the decision. When it came down to it, the real decision would be about when she wanted to retire. If she knew that, then the choice of pension would be relatively easy.

Anyway, a week or so ago, Big Sis said that she had called Mum for a chat and it seems she has decided she would retire sooner rather than later. Work has been incredibly stressful for her over the past few years, she has had 4 different (but equally incompetent) managers, hasn’t been paid accordingly for the level she has been working at and has had time off due to stress caused by work. She loves her job, but the system makes her job unbearable. I think if she had still been enjoying it, she probably would have happily worked a few more years to get a better pension deal, but the way things had been recently, I didn’t really see how she would be able to tolerate it for that long. Even day to day it sounded like it was a struggle. I was glad she had made a decision and one that seemed to be the right one for her.

Yesterday, Big Sis hears that Mum is going to collect stuff from the office and will have finished work from today onwards! We knew she had decided to retire, but didn’t know it would have such immediate consequences! I know when Mum makes a decision, that’s usually it, but I had to laugh at the speed of her actions. I am very pleased for her, though. She has worked so hard to get where she is, had a difficult childhood with very little love or support and certainly not much nurturing. She paid her own way through nursing school, taking about 10 years to qualify because she had to work throughout her studies in order to pay her fees. Despite all the setbacks she was faced with, she has extraordinary faith and never wavered in her beliefs. She had no-one else to rely on other than God, so she had to put all her trust in Him and He came through for her. I am really proud of my Mum and am so glad she is now going to enjoy a well-deserved retirement. She will have the time to do all the things she loves most – gardening, maintaining her home, knitting, crocheting, cross-stitching, reading and so on. And it also now means, according to our family joke, that Big Sis can now have some babies as Mum can look after them. That was always my excuse for not being married or settled down yet – I couldn’t have children until Mum retired – dammit, now I’ll have to think of a new reason!

Sadly for her, she can never retire from the job of being a mum, but we’re very thankful for that. Happy retirement, Mum. Your new life as a lady of leisure starts here!

Birthday Breakdown (in more ways than one)

9.30am – wake up, slightly groggy after going to bed a little late (my two-hour nap on Saturday afternoon seemed to mess up my pattern).  Open the cards that had come in the post, etc. and the present I got from Badges – a coaster that says ‘Just because I work here doesn’t mean I actually “work” here.’  :o)  Arrange the cards on the end table at the foot of my bed.  Put on the TV, catch the end of a Sunday politics show and then the start of a discussion show asking young people ‘Is religion on its way out?’

10.15am – Big Sis comes to say hello and greets me a Happy Birthday.  We chat for a bit and then go to get breakfast.  She gives me a card from her and Bro-in-Law.  Has lovely messages that leave me a bit teary.  Methinks Big Sis is feeling rather emotional at the moment herself.  Make toast and marmalade and some tea, then go to the living room.  Thank Bro-in-Law for the card.  Chat over breakfast, lots of giggles.  I only manage half of my toast, then go upstairs to do a bit of tidying in my room (not so much a birthday activity, but a much needed one).

11.00am – start sorting out some of the paperwork on my desk, turn my laptop on, do a few bloggy things while sorting out any paper that can go in the recycling.  Am interrupted now and then with Facebook birthday messages from friends on my phone.  I fill a recycling sack with paper, envelopes, old newspapers and magazines.  Am surprised by how much space that alone frees up. 

11.30am – have a missed call from Dad, wishing me Happy Birthday and saying that they will be stopping by a bit later to drop off some stuff.  Mum says it will be about 1.00pm by the time they arrive.  I expect it will be slightly later, knowing them.  I tell Big Sis and Bro-in-Law they are coming round.  They are about to head out for a walk.  They will be back by about 1pm anyway, as Bro-in-Law wants to watch the Grand Prix.

11.45am - I sort out some of my clothes into piles for washing.  Am reminded just how much I need to have a wardrobe purge.  I vacuum the parts of the floor I can get to, as well as under my bed, where dust creatures have been forming for some time.  My door keeps slamming shut as the window is open and there is quite a strong breeze.  I wedge the door open to get the breeze flowing through to air my room.  The plan is thwarted somewhat by the window now slamming shut instead.  I play some music to keep me motivated and sing along loudly, giving my voice probably the most exercise it has had so far this year.

12.45pm – Big Sis and Bro-in-Law arrive back.  No sign of the ‘rents.  They have picked up some shopping on the way back.  Samson is going to come over, so I text him and ask him to let me know when he is leaving.  We talk and he says he will probably be here by about 2.30pm or so.

1.30pm – Big Sis comes in and gives me a lovely bunch of yellow tulips with a £20 note in the wrapping, from her and Bro-in-Law.  I give her a hug.  I do like tulips.  I get a call from Mum.  She apologises that they are running late.  She got a call from a family friend and got delayed.  She suggests that we could go out to lunch, as she hasn’t eaten and I say I haven’t had lunch yet either.  She hasn’t mentioned it to Dad yet, but tells me to ask Big Sis to book a table at the Thai place that we like nearby.  She asks what time Samson will be arriving and I tell her.  In any case, I estimate they won’t be arriving till 2.00pm at the very earliest, so he shouldn’t be too much later than them.

1.45pm – I tell Big Sis and Bro-in-Law about the lunch plans so they can get ready.  I ask Big Sis if she is going to have a bath because I will need to have one before going out.  She says she will too.  I go back to doing some bits in my room.

2.15pm – Big Sis is cleaning the bathroom, I am a little surprised since Mum and Dad are on their way and we are both going to have a wash before going out. 

2.30pm – The ‘rents arrive.  Big Sis has only just got in the bath.  Mum comes to my room and says “Oh, you’re not ready.”  I explain that Big Sis has just got in the bath so I am waiting to get washed.  She shows me a bag of old photos she has brought with her, as I am planning to scan some at work.  They don’t give me a birthday card.  I am already feeling a little bit grumpy and not in the mood for celebrating.  I get the feeling Mum was expecting us to be ready to leave straight away and feel annoyed that I can’t do anything while waiting, as I look a state and really want to have a quick bath.  Mum says she is starving as she hasn’t eaten anything.  I offer her the toast and marmalade that I could finish at breakfast.

3.00pm – I ask Big Sis if she is nearly finished.  Bro-in-Law is going to get in there after her (to save water, they usually do this).  They seem to be taking ages.

3.15pm – Dad shouts up to ask what’s going on.  I haven’t been downstairs as I can feel the atmosphere getting tense.  I go down to speak to him and he gives me a hug.  It becomes clear that Mum hasn’t mentioned to him her plan to go out for ‘lunch’.  He says he has made me a cake and hands over a chocolate cream-filled sponge.  Mum is sat on an armchair looking a little pissed off.  She says something about the fact that she is really hungry and is going to get a migraine and that maybe they should just go.  I ask what she is going to do, as Bro-in-Law is now in the bathroom and I can’t get ready until he is finished.  I say that if she doesn’t want to wait then they should go, as she needs to eat.  She replies that we were meant to be going out to eat, but ‘no-one seems that interested.’

3.30pm – Big Sis finally appears, dressed and ready.  Dad is confused about what is going on and I explain that Mum had wanted to go out to lunch.  Mum is doing her usual thing of not saying much but giving off rays of negativity when she is annoyed. I go to the kitchen to check the cake and see if it will fit in the fridge.  I come back out and Mum has just gone out of the front door.  Dad tells me they are leaving.  I give him a hug and then go to the door to say goodbye to Mum, but she is already in the car.  I can’t be bothered to try and stop them.  I’m upset that I just wanted a quiet day without drama and didn’t mind not celebrating, but everything seems to have still gone wrong.  I feel a bit hurt that I always seem to be the one who ends up feeling bad and responsible.  I wonder who the lunch was really for, since no-one has asked me how I feel or what I want to do, but allegedly I am the one at the centre of it.  I speak to Samson and tell him we aren’t going out to lunch anymore.  He is still a little way away, there have been no trains to my house and he left his house at 2.00pm.

3.45pm – I finally get to go in the bathroom and lie in the bath feeling generally pretty rubbish.  Samson arrives while I am in the bath after an almost 2-hour long journey.  I have pretty much lost the will to do anything.

4.00pm – I get out of the bath and find Samson in my room, greeting me enthusiastically and giving me a card and present.  He gives me a big hug and I start to cry.  I just want to get back in bed.  The intermittent messages I have been receiving from various people saying “I hope you are having a fabulous day!” and so on are making me feel worse.  I get ready really slowly, not really knowing quite what I am doing and feeling tired as I haven’t eaten since about 10.30am.  There isn’t much food in the house and I don’t feel like cooking.  We decide to go back to Samson’s later.  I don’t have the heart to make him get back on public transport so soon after such a long journey. 

5.00pm – Big Sis and Bro-in-Law decide to go out to eat, seeing as they had both got ready to go out and haven’t had lunch either.  I tell them we will be leaving so might not be home when they get home.

6.30pm – I am finally ready after taking my time pottering around and watching the last results of the football season for the Premier League.  It is a close-run battle to avoid relegation between about 4 teams.  Samson asks if I want to go out to eat.  I am not in the mood to care much,  I am so hungry by now that I just want some food in my belly.  I get my stuff together and we go downstairs, then I remember I need to refrigerate the cake.  I cut and wrap a quarter of it to take with us, then try to rearrange things to make space for the plate on one of the shelves. 

7.00pm – we are finally leaving.  As we open the front door, Big Sis and Bro-in-Law are just arriving.  They had a nice Sunday roast at a local restaurant.  Samson and I go to the station and there are no trains whatsoever.  We walk down the road to get the bus, planning to get off halfway and get the tube.  I suggest we eat at Wagamama in Victoria, as the food is quick but healthy.

7.40pm – we arrive at Wagamama and discover it closes at 8.00pm.  There is no point, I am not in the mood for rushing my meal in 20 minutes.  We decide to get the tube back to Samson’s, although because of engineering works, it will stop a station short and we will have to walk/get a bus from there.  Samson is adamant that I shouldn’t have fast food on my birthday, but I am too hungry by now and don’t care.  I suggest we just go out for a meal on another evening.  I just need to eat and I want to be home at 9pm to watch Orphan.

8.40pm – after a long tube journey, then a longer than necessary bus journey, we arrive at Samson’s, KFC in hand (he still feels bad that we are having KFC for my birthday dinner, but it’s fast and is 2 minutes from his place).  The food tastes good after 10 hours of no eating.  We settle down to watch the film and things feel better again.  “I’m sorry we didn’t do anything special for your birthday,” he says later.  “This is all I wanted to do for my birthday,” I reply, “Just chill with you.”  I had forgotten how relaxed I always feel around him.  He is the only person all day who has asked me what I want to do.

11.00pm – the film is over.  I really enjoyed it, it was just the right amount of scary for me.  We watch some of the football highlights and then go to bed.  I start feeling low again and upset about how rubbish this birthday has been.  I feel a little resentful about being there for people and trying to be a good friend, but feeling like no-one returns the favour to make an effort for me.  Samson tries to comfort me as I cry, but I just want to forget the day even happened.  He suggests we could go away for my birthday next year.  We talk and I feel better and we finally get to sleep a while later.

I am writing this birthday off.  This has been the worst in a while, the worst I can remember before this was when the boyfriend who had broken up with me less than a month before insisted he be invited to my birthday celebration, confused me by kissing me while we were out, and then ruined my evening when I found him talking in a cosy corner to another girl.  Things are definitely better now, but I am still writing this one off.  I think I will go into self-imposed hiding next year.

The Weekend...almost

Tonight will be spent with Samson, most likely chilling out, maybe watching a film or some Quantum Leap (our viewing rate has slowed somewhat, partly of late to me ‘losing’ the disc we were on, only to find it a few weeks later in my actual DVD player). I really look forward to weekends now. I suppose I always did, mostly for the fact that I didn’t have to go to work, but I do even more so now, knowing I can spend time with Samson. I feel at home with him and really enjoy his company.

I have a therapy session tomorrow which I can’t afford to pay for. It’s a good job I brought up the topic of my problems with money management (that apparently signify a deeper-rooted problem that probably stems from a particular situation or experience) in my last session, because maybe this means that Mary will be more sympathetic about my lack of sufficient funds to pay for her services. Samson has been great and has lent me the money on a few occasions, even when I’ve said I would just cancel. He reminds me that it’s important I do go and is happy to help. He will probably be willing to do the same for tomorrow, but I don’t think I’ve even paid him back for the last two I went to as yet, so I don’t feel good borrowing more.

In the afternoon I will be heading home to drop off my stuff (and undoubtedly pick up more stuff), meet Big Sis and then head off with her to see the ‘rents – the first time I will have done so since the a week or so into January. We are going to stay the night on Saturday, then take Mum out for a treat lunch on Sunday (again something which I can’t afford). I’m actually really looking forward to seeing them and spending time with them.

It's nearly hometime now and therefore officially the start of the weekend. We just had a fire alarm and had to evacuate the building. That really kills the little motivation I had left, if any, to come back to the office, especially at 5pm, but at least I will soon be out of here. Annoyingly, I seem to now be in a slightly grumpy mood and that's never a good way to be on a Friday night. I'd like to blame my depression, but to be honest, I think I'm just a moody bitch. Temporal, like the weather. Come on, 5.30!

Girls and Boys: Both Weird

"Can I verify something with you?" asked Gannet, upon entering the kitchen.

"OK," I answered, knowing that it was likely to be something non-work related and possibly something rude or unusual. I was at the sink washing my mugs (Tip: don't leave a mug you've had cup-a-soup in overnight. The soup turns to concrete).

"Is it weird being a girl?"

Hmm, I was right. Wasn't really expecting that one.

"Yes," I replied, "But I have no other frame of reference," I paused, "Never having been a boy - just in case you were wondering. In what sense do you mean?"

"Well," Gannet said, pouring his cold tea into the sink, "I witnessed something earlier. There was a group of girls over there and suddenly one of them started going 'Whoooooooo!'"

[cue rather camp impression of the girl waving her arms close to her chest in strained excitement, while making excited whoop and ooh-ing noises]

"...and then the others around her started going 'Whooooooooo!'"

[cue repeat of impression]

"...and all sort of clucking around her. Then Pix [a lady] came over and asked what was going on, looked over at them and did this," he said, miming having a big pregnant tummy, "And the other girl nodded. I just thought, it must be quite weird being a girl."

I was momentarily stuck for something to say. "It is quite weird being a girl, but I'm not sure quite how to explain that reaction. Maybe that stage hasn't quite hit me yet."

"I think they were your age," he said, even more puzzled. "And one of them was saying, 'Oh, I'm so emotional, I might cry.'"

I had to laugh. "I don't really know what that's about. But maybe I'm doing a disservice to my kind."

"No, I prefer girls like you," said Gannet, which made me feel a bit shy for a second, but later made me wonder why all the guys I know say they want a girl who is girly in the way she dresses and is homely, etc. but also like the girl to not be quite as girly when it comes to sports, video games, action films, drinking, etc. Or maybe that's just my perception. Or maybe I just know the wrong guys.

"Well that's good to know," I finally replied, "But then, I wanted to stay up last night to watch Rocky, so I'm not really doing much to prove myself otherwise, am I?"

He laughed, "What, Rocky, the first one?" and we entered into a discussion about which ones we had seen.

"I saw Rambo for the first time the other night," I said proudly.

"What, First Blood?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"You know, I've never seen that." I felt a little pleased with myself for a second. It's very rare that someone who is into films and books and popular culture (or to be honest pretty much anyone who isn't either anti-film or very religious) hasn't seen a well-known film that I have. This virtually never happens. "I know the later ones get a bit ridiculous, like one man against Afghanistan, but I've heard the first one is meant to be an actual decent film."

"Yeah, it was," I agreed, "I haven't seen any of the others, but I really liked it, thought it was pretty good. So, is it weird being a boy?" I asked, turning the original question back.

"Well yeah, I suppose it's a bit weird. Would you like to be a boy?"

"I would," I answered, perhaps a little too quickly, sadly having thought about this before. "I would like to, just for a bit, to see what it's like. But I'd probably be quite a bad boy."

"What do you mean?" he asked, laughing, "Like wearing make-up and stuff?"

It wasn't quite what I'd had in mind, but I played along. "Yeah," I said, "and wearing dresses and stuff. And being a cage-fighter." He laughed at me. "I'd be a cross-dressing cage-fighter like Alex Reid. I'd take it to extremes."

We were still laughing as we went back to our respective desks, me finding it endearing that he has these random thoughts, but also thinking that my personal conflict between the natural, common instincts of girliness and my dislike of many aspects of it has been something I've struggled with since my teens.

I thought about my Mum and how she is attractive and feminine, but isn't overly girlie in her characteristics. She is a tough cookie. She rarely cries, especially not in front of people outside her immediate family. She doesn't pander. She is fiercely independent, never ever has the attitude that you can't do certain things if you are a woman. She does gardening, DIY - made me a built-in bookcase for my room when I was about 16. She isn't very soppy or sentimental. She was the law in our childhood household.

I suppose I have tried to (or felt like I should) emulate lots of her characteristics, which all seemed to be strengths. I've felt less good when I've felt vulnerable, emotional, sensitive or weak, at times when it seemed like I should be the opposite. But I'm learning to embrace my softer side, realising that it can co-exist alongside any tougher characteristics without being a complete contradiction. Bizarrely, I am also a traditionalist in many ways when it comes to gender, but perhaps only in my own preferences rather than as a prescription for anyone else. In fact, my notion of 'traditional' is probably not traditional in itself. Either way, my conclusion? It is weird to be a girl, but perhaps only marginally more so (if at all) than it is to be a boy. It's weird being human.

Me, Moods, Mental Health, Meds and Mothers

I didn't manage to book an appointment with my doctor in time to review my meds, and was late submitting a prescription request, so ran out of supplies and had a week without them. I managed to speak to my doctor on the phone and discussed the prospect of coming off them, which she advised would need to initiated by a positive decision to do so by me. In any case, it is always advised to do so gradually. I didn't feel completely ready to do this yet, as I hadn't prepared myself mentally to do so, but thought I would continue for another couple of months and then consider lessening the frequency of my dose and then coming off them altogether. In the meantime, I had been without any meds for a week and my body had gone into withdrawal, feeling drained, low and a little unsettled. Thankfully, when I started on them again, things improved quite quickly and mercifully I didn't have the problems with my appetite that I did when I first started, probably because I still had some residual meds in my system, so my body didn't have such an extreme reaction this time.

My planned decision to wean myself off them is a good one for me I think, partly because it gives me an objective to aim towards, is a positive decision in my power to improve my own life and state of mind and also means that it is a definitive course of action, much like deciding to start taking the medication was for me in the first place. However, things still aren't all rosy and perfect, but I knew they wouldn't be. I still have periods of low mood, I still find it draining being in social situations with people for prolonged periods and I still find myself having bouts of insecurity or irrational upset and so forth. But the difference now is that I am aware of this and feel better able to cope when these things happen. I knew the meds weren't a magic wand and I never intended them to be either a quick fix or a long-term crutch. I just needed them to enable me to function normally in my day-to-day activities so that I would be better able to focus my energy on getting better. I definitely feel like I'm getting there. Speaking to Lolly recently about some of her own experiences that I relate to, I was reminded of how I felt at my lowest point and was encouraged when I realised I was looking back because I have made progress since then. I don't usually feel like I have done, but when I remember just how difficult the simplest things were and how low I felt, I am so grateful to know that things have got better since then. Hopefully soon I'll be able to look back at this point and be encouraged by how far I've moved on from here.

When I wrote about the time I went out before Christmas, when things first happened with me and Samson, I didn't actually mention the fact that I neglected to let the 'rents know I would be late home that night. Being a Friday evening, on which I wouldn't normally go out, I would usually head to the rents' house for dinner and stay the night there so that we could go to church together in the morning. It was unusual for me to be out, but I had never intended to stay out so late, so hadn't called to tell them where I was. As the evening wore on, I then felt unable to call, partly because it was so late and partly because I had been drinking and thought they'd probably be able to tell and wouldn't approve. I don't know why I still feel so awkward with being honest with them about certain things and making my own decisions, when I'm an adult. But it's weird, they've always been so protective and at times I feel a tiny bit stifled, both by their protection and my own perception of their expectations of me. Anyway, I completely forgot to check my phone and when I finally did, it was about 11.00pm and I had several missed calls and texts. Bis Sis had texted me to say that Mum and Dad were really worried and where was I, because they were thinking of calling the police because they hadn't heard from me. She had then apparently texted half of my contacts in my old phone to ask if I was with them, so there were texts from Lolly, The Mrs and Miss T. I called Big Sis and told her I was out, asking her to please let Mum and Dad know I was okay and safe and that I would be round the next day. Big Sis unhelpfully told me I had to speak to them myself. In the end, I didn't call them but I think she let them know. The next day, she made a fuss about being unimpressed with me and saying that I had a lot of apologising to do. I felt bad, but at the time I had just wanted to get away and not feel like I had to answer to anyone. It was an odd feeling and I also felt slightly averse to the fact that Big Sis was now trying to act more like my mother than Mum was doing. When I got to the rents' the next day, I felt awful and was going to talk to Mum about how I was feeling, but she simply gave me a hug, told me that all I needed to do was to call them and let them know if I wasn't coming over because Dad worries, and then said that we should just forget about it. It's bizarre, because my parents, particularly my Mum, were very strict and protective when we were growing up, I still have the expectation that she will react in the same way she might have done back then. It's hard trying to adjust to the new dynamic, in which Mum apparently seems to view me as an adult, but I'm not always completely sure that she really does.

Anyway, after this last time of not turning up on a Friday evening and after the low mood I was experiencing, I knew that my parents might be worrying about my seemingly unusual behaviour and wondering if something was wrong. I had texted my Mum to tell her I would be there the next day, but since she only has a mobile for work and she has been off work for while, I wasn't sure if she'd actually get it. When my plan B to go there in the morning didn't work out either, I still didn't call them to explain. I knew that it was probably time to have a talk to my Mum and tell her about my period of depression. Big Sis kept asking me if I'd called the 'rents and telling me that I "really should" each time I told her that I still hadn't. Being constantly reminded didn't help. A few days later, I eventually got enough time and mental energy together to put everything in an email to my Mum, explaining that I have been depressed for over a year and that I have been taking medication for it. I explained that while it had mostly helped, I still have low patches and still find it draining and difficult to be around people for long periods of time. I told her that it has had an impact on me spiritually, in that I have felt discouraged and found it harder than usual to pray regularly and so forth. I ended by saying that things were improving, but that I might need some time and space to deal with things my own way at times. I clicked 'send' and awaited a response. A couple of days later, I got an email from Mum saying that she was pleased that I could be honest with her about how I was feeling and that she was looking forward to seeing me that Friday so that we could talk. I felt reassured and relieved. I don't think I was expecting a negative response at all, but I suppose I subconsciously prepared myself for it, just in case.

That Friday, I left work with Samson and he took me for a quick drink and a cake between the two of us for a quick chat. I like that we spend time together like that, even if it's just for an hour, to talk and enjoy each other's company away from work and observant eyes. I was feeling a bit low and a little apprehensive, but he perked me up and made me feel better about facing things. Afterwards, I went to my parents' for dinner. Mum gave me a big hug and we ate dinner together with Dad, with her just reiterating that if I wasn't going to come over that I should just let them know, it was no big deal, they just didn't want to be left hanging if they were expecting me as usual and I didn't turn up. It was such a silly thing, but I had felt incapable of doing it on those two occasions. I expected that we might talk that evening after eating, but Mum didn't really mention anything and in the end I felt too drained to really talk and ended up getting an early night. The next day, after church, we had lunch together at home, including Big Sis. A discussion arose about depression and various things and Big Sis and Mum were getting quite heated in their respective viewpoints. After a while, I couldn't tolerate it any more, feeling like it was draining me, was giving me a negative vibe and wasn't really helping my frame of mind. I retreated upstairs, feeling the need for some quiet and thinking I might just take a nap. A little later, Mum came up and had a chat to me, explaining her reaction to some of the things Big Sis was saying and asking me how I was. We talked a little, but I felt almost too tired to really string a proper sentence together and express how I felt. She told me that she wanted me to be honest with her and to be able to talk to her about what I was going through. She encouraged me and talked about some of her own experiences, reminding me to just hold on to my faith no matter what. I felt bad that I wasn't particularly vocal, but I felt a lot better for her having spoken to me. I was definitely glad that I had told her, even if I hadn't really gone into detail about the various factors that I think have contributed to my depression. To be honest, just having her know was relief enough.

A Non-Day

It's been a bit of a non-day, to be honest. After Mum, Big Sis and Bro-in-Law left for the graduation, I got up, cleaned my teeth and washed my face. I brushed the very sore gum surrounding my last obstinate wisdom tooth with salt, then rinsed my mouth and gargled with salt water for my sore throat, before I returned to bed for a bit to see what was on TV and to start a blog post. After a bit, I went downstairs to get some breakfast, but took some dirty clothes with me to put in the machine to wash. I wanted to have a soak in the bath at some point, so put the heating on and then I washed up the saucepan and the few bowls, mugs, cups and cutlery that were in the sink, while my bread turned to toast in the toaster and the kettle boiled. I made tea, buttered my toast and spread some marmalade on it, then took it upstairs so I could eat it while watching TV. I did some writing, checked some emails, paid a couple of bills, listened to some music which I could do without worrying about disturbing anyone for a change, then decided I was ready for a bath.

It was already lunchtime, but I wasn't living by a to-do list today for a change and was more concerned with making sure I got enough rest so that I felt well enough for work tomorrow. I ran the bath with some bath oil and foam, then got in for a soak. The water was hot but just enough for me to comfortably have a soak in. I could feel it was getting steamy in there but I didn't feel much like rushing. I used some hot oil treatment on my hair, then shampooed and rinsed. I heard my phone start ringing from my bedroom. It was probably The Mrs. It was unlikely to be anyone else. I slathered conditioner on my freshly-rinsed hair, before getting ready to give my skin a good scrub. It was around this time that I started feeling light-headed. At first I thought it was just a bit too hot in there, so I opened the bathroom door a little (another perk of being home alone). But I started to feel sick and weak and had the horrible feeling that starts to come before you faint (a feeling I am all too familiar with). I ran some cold water into a glass and drank it, remembering the last time that I fainted and drinking cold water took away the nauseous feeling. The coolness of the water felt good, but it didn't rid me of the feeling completely and I still felt really faint. I was scared I would pass out in the bath and I was all alone. I got out of the bath, still dripping wet, and tried to crouch on the bathroom floor to steady myself and get some air. I felt sick and uncomfortable and knew I had to get out of there. I was still covered in soap and still had the conditioner in my hair, so I pulled the plug to get the water drain away, then got back in the bath to rinse with some luke-warm water. I tried to get rid of all the soap as quickly as possible, trying to fight the weak feeling and just wanting to get out of the bath.

Once I was sufficiently soap-free, I carefully got out of the bath, wrapped my towel around me and then rinsed the tub. I went to my room and lay back on my bed, keeping my towel on me so that the bedcovers didn't get wet. I was feeling weak and weird. I checked my phone. It was The Mrs. I called her back and offered a weak "hello."

"Are you OK??" she asked.
"I nearly just fainted in the bath," I explained.
"Have you eaten?"
"Yes."
"Are you taking your iron tablets?"
"No."
"You're anaemic, you need to take them! I'm very worried about you!"
"When I last went to my doctor, she said I didn't need to take them anymore."
"Are you on your own?"
"Yes."
"I'm going to call your Mum and tell her to come round to be with you."
"Don't do that! She wouldn't. And anyway, she's gone to the graduation."
I laughed inwardly at the thought that my Mum would come all the way to our house just because I felt faint. She's a nurse, it takes something much more serious than that to get her sympathy.
"You need to take your iron tablets. And go back to your GP, I don't think you should be feeling so tired and sick all the time."

Maybe it was true, but I didn't want to fuss. I felt a bit rubbish that I was alone and that I don't have someone who would drop everything to come and look after me. I don't even need looking after, but it's nice to have the option, you know? We chatted for a while about some other stuff and how she and her Mr had spent ages decorating her mum's new fibre-optic Christmas tree, only to discover afterwards that her mum decided she didn't like the fibre-optic tree after all. I laughed, imagining a pretty good idea of how her mum would have reacted. I remembered that I was going to put up my own Christmas lights today. After a bit, I said I needed to go and get dressed, as my wet hair was making me feel cold. I was insanely jealous about the Sunday roast that The Mrs and her Mr were going to eat at her mum's. I remember the days of banging Sunday roasts at The Ex's parents' house and how much I always looked forward to them. I remember having a yummy roast at The Mrs' mum's house myself one time. Hmm, perhaps I hadn't eaten enough today. We said our goodbyes and I took my orders.
"Don't faint any more, OK?"
"OK."

It took me a little while to feel OK again, but when I did, I went to get some cereal, some tea, some juice and some snacks to nibble on so that I didn't have to go back downstairs for a while. I replaced the clean clothes in the machine with a new load that needed washing. I retreated upstairs and got dressed, while watching some Miami Ink and surfing the net. I wasn't much looking forward to the others returning home, mainly because all morning the situation had been bothering me. Quite often, I won't have an immediately strong reaction to certain situations, but the upset kicks in a while later, after it has sunk in and I have mulled over it. I was still feeling hurt, defensive and angry about things and didn't really want to see Big Sis, as I knew with how I was feeling I wouldn't be able to act normally. Mid-afternoon, I heard the car in the drive. A bit later, Mum came upstairs and knocked on my door. She presented me with quite a fancy-looking certificate, but after everything that had happened with my verbal assignment, I really couldn't care less, to be honest. She told me quietly that she had called Big Sis this morning to tell her she was coming and that she would pick them up. I didn't ask much more. She was feeling tired and wanted to go home, which was understandable, as she still wasn't 100% well. She asked what I had been doing. "Not much," I replied honestly. I tested my earlier theory and told her "I nearly fainted in the bath." "You haven't eaten anything, have you?" she said. "I have," I told her, "I just felt hot and weak." She didn't say much more. Told you, Mrs, no sympathy from nursing staff. She gave me a kiss goodbye, then went downstairs.

I stayed in my room, watching more Miami Ink and sorting out a few things. I remembered that I was going to put up my Christmas lights, so I got them down from the Christmas box I have above my wardrobe. For one set, I will need to tap some small nails in the wall to hook them onto, but didn't want to go downstairs to get the hammer, so will do those later. The other set, I draped around my window, then set on a slow fade, so that alternate bulbs fade in and out very slowly. I'm feeling a little bit more cheery and Christmassy, but still feel a bit weak and tired.

Late afternoon, The Mrs texted asking what I was up to for NYE and saying I was welcome to join her and her Boy at his mum's house as they were dog-sitting while his mum and step-dad went out. I found the offer very sweet and didn't say no, but wonder if being the add-on with a couple at this time of year will just make me more aware of my own loneliness. I had been looking forward to the holidays, but at the moment, I just want to be alone. We have an early seasonal lunch at Bigger Sis' place this Sunday, which will be lovely if this horrible atmosphere has dissipated. The following weekend we have meeting with our small group and are going to have a Christmas sleepover at Mum and Dad's place. I am actually quite excited. My adopted children, Big C, Little C and The Destroyer are all going to be there with their parents and they are quite excited. They give me non-stop entertainment and it's actually quite nice having children around at this time of year. It stops me feeling so cynical.

I am still annoyed because Big Sis will probably have moved on from her little outburst, but I can't shake the feeling of upset off. I hate being dragged into emotional conflicts unwarranted and then being left there because I get more affected by it, when everyone else has moved on and forgotten about it. Right now, I could do with a cuddle and some comfort KFC.

In The Middle

I hate being in the middle. I don't much like conflict. I am also fed up of trying to be a pacifier. In the US, they use the term 'pacifier' for the things they give to babies to suck on to keep them quiet. Know what they call those here? Dummies. Interesting.

Yesterday, we went to church earlier than usual. Mum had been asked to lead out in one of the Bible study classes and then the three of us were leading the praise and worship singing in the main service. I had gone to sleep at 8.00pm on Friday night and woken up after eleven hours' sleep at 7.00am the next morning, still feeling quite rough and with a sore throat. Mum was still not feeling 100% after having colds and flu all week and Dad stayed at home because he had got sick after looking after Mum. Luckily, my throat held out and we managed to sing everything OK. When we got home, we ate the leftover toast from breakfast because we were all feeling famished. Big Sis went on Mum's laptop, which isn't unusual. She was watching a sermon online while Mum cooked a hot lunch. I helped Mum for a little bit, then told her about the graduation that was taking place on Sunday for the lay-preaching course we had been attending. I had already decided that I didn't want to go, for various reasons, but now I wasn't feeling well, I knew it was the best idea. Mum mentioned that she might go so that she could take photos of Big Sis, but then when she heard Bro-in-Law was going, she said, "Oh, well that's good, he can take some photos then."

We all talked over lunch, but Big Sis continued to watch the program. We were half-watching, but were talking as well, while we ate our food. After the sermon, there was a musical presentation, but I wasn't really feeling it. I made that clear, being slightly obnoxious on purpose because Big Sis sometimes does the same when I am watching things she doesn't like. The difference is that I watch such things in my own room, on my own television or laptop, not in a shared space that means she is forced to watch it. Mum wasn't feeling the music either and asked Big Sis to turn it off, but she didn't. Dad had just gone upstairs, probably for a rest, so Mum followed not long after. I needed the bathroom, so went to the one upstairs. I didn't particularly want to sit there listening to music I wasn't enjoying.

When I went upstairs, Mum and Dad were resting and so I decided to do the same and had a nap in their room. I had a feeling in the back of my mind that Big Sis would take this personally, seeing as we all left the room within about five minutes of each other. But she knew we didn't want to watch what she was watching and since she insisted on continuing to do so, even after Mum asked her to switch it off, you would have thought she would have been pleased to be left alone to watch what she wanted in peace.

Fast forward to two hours later and Mum and I woke up, feeling hot and dehydrated. Dad had already gone downstairs. We weren't even intending to have a long nap, but obviously both needed it because we were both feeling under the weather. I got dressed and got my stuff ready, then went downstairs. Big Sis was still watching stuff on the laptop. We had a hot drink and then Mum went to the hall over the road to say a quick hello to some old church friends who had hired it that evening for a party for our friend's 50th birthday. When she came back, we watched Harry Hill's TV Burp, which Big Sis watched with us. The X-Factor was on afterwards. Sometime during the program, I could feel something change. I could feel a slight bad vibe coming from Big Sis since I had expressed my dislike of the music program she had been watching earlier, but it suddenly got worse. I was sitting on her right and got the feeling out of the corner of my eye that she might be crying.

After a while, Mum was going to give us a lift home, so we got up to leave. Big Sis mentioned something to Dad about having a family meeting about some shared bills we have to sort out. "Not now," said Dad, as we were obviously about to leave. "I know not now," said Big Sis, visibly irritated, "but if we don't set a time then nothing gets sorted out, does it?" Her tone was disapproving and I knew that my instinct had been right. We prayed before we left and said our goodbyes to Dad, then got in the car.

Not long after we had driven off, Big Sis said to Mum, in an upset tone, "Mum, are you coming to my graduation tomorrow?"

Sensing the tone and what was about to happen, Mum was silent for a moment and then said, "No, I wasn't going to especially."

"But if Em was going, then you would," Big Sis replied, unable to hide the anger in her voice.

"No, not necessarily," Mum replied calmly.

"Yeah, you would," said Big Sis. I waited for it to begin.

That's when she kicked off, saying in tears that she was fed up of being ignored in this family and that it was like she had to compete to be heard and that no-one was interested in her or her life or anything she wanted to say. I asked how she had been ignored and what she wanted to talk about. "Anything," she replied, "anything that I want to talk about." I didn't really have anything to say, not really knowing what the point of arguing with her was, and knowing that most of this was probably directed at Mum. "What's the point of me coming here at the weekend?" she said, "I might as well stay at home with my husband." She made several more outbursts on the way home, and I was willing Mum to say something back to her, but Mum kept silent. We stopped on the way to pick up a newspaper for Dad, which I got out to buy as usual. I wondered if Mum might talk to her while I was in the shop. I stopped to get out cash to buy me a bit more time. As I went to pay, the guy at the till was talking to his female colleague. I see both of them virtually every week, as we usually stop at the same place to get the paper. I handed him my cash and my points card. He looked at me in a way I couldn't quite work out and I was conscious that I wasn't as friendly as I might usually be because of what had been happening in the car.

"Don't you think they should put the full name on these cards?" he said to his colleague, holding up my points card, which had my initial and surname on it. "Then you wouldn't need to say to someone, 'I like your smile miss, what is your name?', and give them a cheesy line, you could just see it on their card."

His female colleague gave him an unimpressed look and looked at me, shaking her head.

"I like your smile, miss," he said to me while handing me my change, "Can I ask you your name?"

"No," I said, sort of laughing and looking at his colleague, who I usually have a chat to when I see, and who was still giving me a sympathetic look.

"See," he said to her as I started to turn to walk away, "it's not a good line!"

I was laughing a little, but dreading getting back into the car. Once I did, things were still silent. They pretty much remained so until we got to the petrol station opposite our road and Mum asked me to put some petrol in the car. I was happy to get out of the atmosphere again and put £20 in, laughing when I over-filled by 1p. We got home and I expected Big Sis to get out of the car as soon as she could, in which case I was going to stay behind and talk to Mum. But she didn't. I wondered if they might want to talk, so I started to get my stuff and thanked Mum for the lift and then got out of the car, but Big Sis started to get out too. I waved goodbye to Mum and we went indoors. Bro-in-Law wasn't home and Big Sis asked me about the shared bills we were sorting out and why I hadn't paid what I had said I was going to. I explained that I had tried on more than one occasion this week to do so online like I usually do, but it wasn't letting the payment go through.

"Have you still got enough?" she asked, still with the accusatory tone that she had kept with all evening. I explained that I might not be able to pay quite as much as I had hoped, but definitely most of it. "Have you been helping Mum out with something I don't know about, or something?" she quizzed, "Because I know how I always get left out."

I was stuck between just wanting to either laugh in her face, shout at her in frustration, or tell her to grow up. "No," I answered, "I don't know what you're trying to say, but I don't know anything more than you do." I could hear her starting to say something back, but I dropped the things I had bought in the kitchen and then took my things upstairs.

I am so fed up of these random outbursts she has once a year or every two years, suggesting that everyone is against her or that our parents favouritise me over her. I was especially irritated by the fact that she was suggesting we don't want to talk to her or that we ignore her, when the fact of the matter is, she made no effort to start conversation with any of us, or even join in the existing conversation because she was so determined to watch whatever she wanted to watch on the laptop. Our parents don't take an extra interest in what I do, any more than they do in what she does. The difference is that I go to see them every week and when I do, I talk to them and offer up information about what is going on with me. They don't always ask me about my life. But that's how they are. I don't take that to mean that they don't want to know or don't care. But Big Sis seems to want everyone to chase after her and tease any information out of her, despite the fact that she seems more interested in checking what people are doing on Facebook than talking to the parents whose house she is visiting.

The fact is, I have gone to their house to stay on Friday evening every week for the past three years. Big Sis came some of the time, but obviously leading up to her getting married and after she got married, she didn't bother as much. Sometimes, I didn't always feel like it. But I knew that they liked having us round to visit or to stay. That was my choice. When Big Sis didn't go to see them, that was her choice. Why is it my fault that they know more about what I am up to because I choose to spend more time with them, or make the effort to keep them informed when I do spend time with them? I am really bored of being made to feel bad, just because I act a certain way and Big Sis chooses to act a different way. I can't count the number of times I have tried to act as a go-between in my family, trying to smooth things out between my Mum and my sister.

I was feeling really uncomfortable, knowing that I would now have to live with this horrible atmosphere while Mum returned home and wondering what other things Big Sis would find to have a go at me about. I texted The Mrs and asked if she had time for a chat. She isn't feeling too well either, so we were talking about that and then I told her about my situation. She felt bad that she couldn't offer more advice or say much in return, as she wasn't feeling well, but I think I just needed to get it off my chest. We spoke for quite a while and I was grateful that she just listened and allowed me to let off steam. After we spoke I called my Mum. I asked if she was going to the graduation and suggested that maybe she should, because it would probably help things. She said that Big Sis hadn't even talked to her about it or even asked her to go and she didn't think that her outburst in the car really counted as an invitation. As it was, she still wasn't feeling well. She said that if Big Sis had asked her to go properly, then by all means she would have gone without a second thought. But as it was, she hadn't even been told that guests could come. I hadn't mentioned it to her myself because I had decided not to go and to be honest I wasn't that bothered about it. I wouldn't have bothered asking her even if I was going. I asked if she had said anything to Big Sis in the car, but she said that she had just stayed quiet, not wanting to get into the argument and feeling stressed enough with other things going on as it is. She said that since Friday evening, Big Sis had just been on the laptop the whole time and not bothered to make any conversation with her or Dad, so how on earth could she then accuse them of not wanting to talk to her, when she wasn't being sociable in the first place? I could see Mum's point of view and I didn't want to persuade her to go to the graduation if she wasn't feeling well. She said that she was pleased when she heard Bro-in-Law was going and thought maybe she should leave them to it, as Big Sis is married now and maybe Mum should let her husband support her and shouldn't get involved. "But I think she wants you to be involved, Mum," I suggested, "but she just didn't ask you." "Well exactly," Mum replied, "she didn't ask." She said that she might go but she was still feeling unwell and would have to see how she felt in the morning. She told me to just be patient with my sister. Hmm. I'm trying.

I eventually went to sleep after about 1.30am, probably because of my almost 3-hour nap that afternoon. I woke up a few times and found it hard to get back to sleep properly, but drifted in and out of sleep until my alarm when off at about 9.30. Suddenly I heard a car outside and I sneaked a peak out of the window to see that Mum had arrived. I was really pleased. I was hoping she wasn't feeling too unwell, but I think it was a good thing to do. I stayed in bed till I heard them all leave, then got up, feeling excited to have an empty house as a rare treat. I hope that Big Sis might appreciate Mum's gesture, but I worry that she will see it as vindication of sorts, or proof that the accusations she made are true. I am enjoying the peace and quiet of having the house to myself while I can. I'm not really looking forward to them returning home. No matter what I do, there will be something that I've done that is not right.