Humpty Dumpty Had A Great Fall

I don't know how to let things go. I've never been one that's known how to live with the past. Forgive or forget. Every unpleasant incident haunts me to this day. I won't go searching it out but it always find me. Reaches up out of the ether like Jason Voorhees and drags me down to the murky depths. My reaction is visceral. You'll see me physically shaking my head like a demented puppy when a thought takes hold. As if it's possible to exorcise it that way. I can't think about high school and a lot of other things without flinching. It's not just things that were done to me. It's things that I have done. It's all there. Just lurking. waiting for a moment when my guard is down. Usually when something good has happened. I'll make the mistake of feeling happy or any other positive emotion and that's when the empire strikes back. So much so, you'll feel sick. My stomach will churn. I'll feel the acid rising to my throat. Every inch of me will tense like rigamortis. My breathing will become shallow and quick. The dread just washes over you in waves. It's all ridiculously excruciating. And I wonder, did it even feel this bad at the time?

A chain reaction gets set off and I'm never sure how long the captivity will be. I'm hostage to what's going on and I can't stop the influx. Thick and fast more memories to prove my unworthiness. My despicable life on trial. The shame, guilt, humiliation, hurt, anger and confusion. Swirling around all at once. A beautifully wretched concoction. It's heady grasp teasing every last drop of anguish out of my soul. So of course these demonic hosts rubbed their hands with glee when fresh fodder was provided for their amusement in the last week. I'm not going to write down specifics but it was a truly surreal experience. Especially for someone like me who's life has been extremely commonplace. I'm not used to trouble finding me. Or drama. For the most part I always know what's going to happen from one day to the next. So this threw me for a loop. And the part that stings the most. Is my own. I didn't get the ball rolling but because of who I am I didn't stop it either.

With most people I am about as compliant as you can get. Especially aquaintances or my support team. They ask me to do something. And no matter how daunting I shall attempt it. And it doesn't matter whether I am amenable to the demands. I'll still try anyway. Because I'm always wrong. Everyone else is right. What I think, feel and need doesn't matter, not ever. Everyone else is worthy. Deserves this from me. It's my constant act of contrition for my sins. I cause so much trouble. Am such a burden to all and sundry that I cannot say No. I don't have the right to say no. I need to be grateful for the attention that anyone is willing to give me. And try my hardest to make them happy because they've decided to take me on. And I don't deserve such selfless consideration. Because I'll let them down consistently. I let everyone down. It's never intentional but it happens.

And this week I have done it in spectacular fashion. Not to be melodramatic but it did feel like my whole world had blown apart. It has been so tumultuous. It led me to losing someone from my life. I never wanted this but because of the mis-steps and my inability to come to terms with things, it has happened. I know they're mad and will never forgive me. And they have every right to feel that way. I am consumed by self-reproach. It follows me everywhere. Constantly present in my mind and surging through every fibre of my being. I haven't been able to sleep but in small, feverish pockets. And when i do I'm submerged in nightmares about it. It just keeps playing over and over. A toxic little ear worm that's burying itself deeper under my skin.

I feel like I'm breaking apart. I feel like I'm going mad. I'm not sure what I'm going to think about it from one moment to the next. Never mind how I'm gong to feel. Every now and then I'll be shown mercy and hit the eye of the storm. And for a moment there's peace, there's order. It doesn't last long though & I'll run the full gamut of  human emotion in just a matter of seconds. Everything from tears to laughter. The past two days I've just felt deplorable. And my mind keeps adding fuel to the fire. Making me feel like a joke. Questioning people around me. Wondering what damage this has done to their perception of me. It can't help but be deleterious. They must think I'm a total cow. The lowest of the low. Completely bat shit crazy. I just know I feel pathetic. I want to go to ground. Give people a get out of jail free card and let them wash their hands of me.

I just hope that for the first time in my life I can make peace with something. I need to get over this. I can't let it force me to spiral down any further. And I can't let it get in the way of the people left in my life. I don't want to have to push anyone away or cut them out due to shame. At worst I can see me not being able to bear being in the same room as someone I like because the imaginary recriminations will be exploding in my head & tightening my chest. I'm trying to limit the fallout. But I worry that I'll fall back on bad habits. Do something daft and cause more pain.

Gale Force Frustration

For the last two days, the weather all over Scotland has been less than pleasant. And because we live atop a high hill, we get it slightly worse still than those in the town centre. Everything has been rattling and booming and banging. Which led Dad into panicking that the living room window would shatter. You see, some ever so helpful teen yobs, thought it was a cracking laugh to batter it senseless with snowballs when winter was upon us. The poor old thing couldn't take it and a semi circular sheet of glass was cracked out of it. It's just one of the many things that need fixing in the house and probably the lowest on the urgency list. I tried and failed to secure us grants, loans or any sort of help to put things right and make it easier on Mum who is disabled. There's one final option that any rational sort would think would be the first go to. And that is housing insurance. There are many things wrong in the house, some structural and dangerous. But for whatever reason I cannot persuade my father to contact them.

And I cannot tell you how much this bemuses me and frustrates me. Lately I've been oversleeping with the depression and didn't get up until 5pm yesterday. So I stagger downstairs, bleary eyed and limbs like lead weights. Still yawning, despite sleeping over 12hrs and achy all over. I'm not sat down two minutes before Dad starts badgering Mum (who's disabled remember) to get a bin bag taped over the broken window. he then starts in about how he'd do it but she's never got gear ready for him. She fires back that he has the flu & shouldn't go out because it could get into his chest. So when I see Mum putting on her parka, I bark at her to sit down. I told her I'd go out with my brother to do it. So I slip my feet into my trainers and I button up my parka over my PJ's. Put a dishcloth in my pocket along with the tape and we take the bag two handed out doors.

Obviously, it was a  fools errand from the get go. Whilst the wind is tipping over bins and what remained of the garden fence, our struggle with the bin bag was irritating to say the least. No matter what we did, no matter how we tried, this black plastic bag was not going anywhere near this window. So my brother started ranting about how stupid it all was and I agreed. And I told him, I've tried to get Dad to see sense and look into the housing insurance. When I do though, I get no back up from anyone else. Which is the part that confuses me the most. I know I'm not the only one unhappy and ashamed about the living conditions in here but I seem to be the only one who seems motivated to do anything about it.

I know that Dad feels guilty about the past and his part in the house's current condition. He's not the only one to blame though. And he shouldn't let embarrassment or pride keep him from having the essentials that every human being should have access to. I just can't stop worrying that if we don't do something soon, something awful will happen to one of us. The bathroom floor is unstable and the porch is falling down. Someone could get hurt. And I know he doesn't want to have people in here judging us and looking down on us but we have to grin and bear it. For the future and safety of every member of this household.

If I am to be moving out. Which is a great possibility now the Community Mental Health Team have secured me a flat. I want to be able to sleep soundly at night knowing my loved one's are safe and warm. Right now they're neither. I want them to have access to warm water, a shower and to not to have to worry about how cold it gets in winter because they'll have central heating. I love them all dearly but this refusal to face up to the situation and actually try to make a difference boggles me sometimes. If we try and fail at least we did something. And that's all I'm asking is that they try. They deserve to have nice things and not feel ashamed of how they live. They should be able to have friends over and not worry that someone will show up at the door unexpectedly, revealing their shameful secret.

I can only hope that the Social Worker that I arranged for the family can help them once I'm gone. They should have more money coming in without me here and be entitled to benefits such as Housing and Council Tax, which my and my brothers presence exempts them from. I'm taking a leap of faith in moving out. My psychologist wouldn't be happy to know that I'm doing it more for them than me. I don't care though, if I can do one good thing for them no matter what I have to do I'll do it. Of course getting a job just yet is impossible but I hope living with my brother will be a stepping stone, so that I can care for them as well as they have cared for me.