I went to the dentist/ortho for my first checkup. The brown staining I had was superficial and easily cleaned off. She told me some people just get more than others, but it’s not permanent and we’ll keep an eye on it. Back in two weeks time.
I’ve lost two attachments (out of 20 – I miscounted at the start and thought I only had 18), so they need to be put back. Otherwise everything is looking fine and my gums are also okay (phew). I’m more in the swing of it now and they no longer feel so huge in my mouth.
Toddler F has chickenpox.
I haven’t slept more than a two hour stretch in three nights. Today the spots are not as red, so I think (I hope), we are over the worst. She hasn’t had it too bad really. Most of the spots are on her body and most of them are small. We all slept in this morning until 07:50 so getting the boys to school was a rush as Ls bus leaves at 08:27 and we have to drive to the school bus stop. We made it although both boys are tired and C has had a dreadful cough for a week. School holidays start on Thursday, and we all need the break.
So, because of the pox I am housebound and have not run since last Thursday. I’m also exhausted, so need to catch up on sleep (again). I’m feeling really down about it because I was running so well last year and I hate the beginning stages, but here I am all over again. I feel like I can never stick at anything properly and I’m moping around with the feeling of how much work I have to do to get fit again. It’s the winter, I never run through it and it lasts so long here.
Sigh. Moan moan.
My Mum has been readmitted to the psych ward. She’s been in a week now and no indication of when she’s coming out. I was laying awake at 4am stressing about this. Back in 2005, 13 years ago, I was driving a six hour round trip every weekend (and working long hours in the week), to go and clean up the dog shit and mess in my mums house. She had two dogs but was in the psych ward in Peterborough. Her mother and brother lived down the road, but they couldn’t “cope”, so I was doing it. The dogs cried all week and my Nan (her mum) did a bit, but they still asked me to sort it out. I got her out of hosp, helped sell her house, moved her to be near me, got her in the medical system here.
She got a bit better. But she hated the flat we got her, and complained about all of it. I got her moved into a really nice social housing block, run privately and miles above the social housing alternatives. She was okay at first, but now she hates that too. It’s too small, the people spy on her, the warden is a bully.
And she hates being in the hospital. She says the showers don’t work, there’s nothing to do, she wants to go home. Home where she never eats anything and sleeps all day and stays awake all night long and makes herself ill.
I just don’t know what to do with her. I hate exposing the kids to this, but she’s on the phone at the weekend panicking that her rent is due. I have to leave the two youngest with Steve, drive down, pick her up, take her home so we can sort out the rent cheque (she’s allowed out with supervision).
Then she’s on the phone Monday. She needs to feed the fish or they’ll die (she says). So I’ve got to drive down again tomorrow, even though I’m knackered and F has chickenpox and I hate even driving into the car park with any of my children in the car because patients are allowed out (it’s not a secure ward) and I am afraid. Afraid that my sweet two year old girl or my lovely two boys might be a lure or curiosity to someone who might suddenly become aggressive or violent. I know I would kill anyone that tried to harm them, but I am still afraid. Like last time – the man who said he’d buy my daughter for £2 because he wanted a pet. I told him where to go, but then I was scared. I know that you shouldn’t provoke mental patients. They don’t think like we do.
I hate how psych wards smell of boiled food and self-loathing.
And most of all I hate that 13 years on I am still dealing with this.
My mum – it is a miracle that she had me and my brother and didn’t beat us. She was so badly beaten by her mother (with a dog lead, a broken table leg, a hairbrush, whatever was to hand), and I doubt she was ever really shown any affection. Why didn’t she do the same? I don’t know. Apart from a rare smack now and again, she never touched us.
But she never touched us affectionately either, really. My brother carries on the family tragedy, he did terribly at school. My parents couldn’t handle him as a child. They kind of gave up on both of us and left us to our own devices. I finally figured out (after a wobbly period where it could have gone either way), that university was an escape and I worked like mad to get there. My brother turned to hard drugs at 16.
So, the point of this is that I hate that I am still doing this, but at the same time I know that my mother’s childhood was so awful she deserves some kindness. So I have no real choice.
I don’t think she will ever have any peace from her demons. I wish there was something I could do to make it better, but I can’t take away what happened to her.
Somehow, as people get older they seem to get more hung up on the past. I see it in myself also. It’s not healthy and I think we need to stay vigilant, to look forward, to keep learning and exploring and enjoying life. In later life, if you stop and turn around for too long, the past can get a hold of you and never let you go.