August 12, 2012

Nothing wrong with the Markies' vodka by the way..

...mixed with water and some of the kids apple and blackcurrant in fact its delicious.  Can't be very fine if you down it neat in bathrooms though.  Anyway.  Tia has been on my mind a lot.  I'm sure I'm far from being the only one who finds themselves watching girls and cute boys trying to memorise what there wearing, the time and anyone they may talk to.

On a much happier note.  There is pollen in my possession and in mother's to probably by now.  It's a massive trigger seeing my sister drunk with or without her kids.  Seeing my mum seriously stressed out and not copying is as well.  The kids are all fine though except for mine who has picked up the cold and is sprawled on the sofa with a hot water bottle and Ben 10. He's excepting calpol, he must be feeling really crappy.  Ate a good bit of macaroni pie with extra cheese, peas, sweetcorn, prawn crackers and fruit though.  I decided to see how the other two's dad does before I start filling out housing forms though.  Mike has been speaking more sense, a bit and doing alright with the kids.  I keep thinking of that film where Richard E Grant has a kid with a woman who dies.  His mother and the dead woman's mother break into his house and leave the baby on his bed as he his sleeping after he said he wanted nothing to do with it.  Just left the kid on the bed.  No clothes, no nappies, no food, nothing.  Brilliant.  But then he takes the baby into a cafe and the young beautiful waitress who works there looks after the bloke and baby for ever after.  Didn't like that bit so much.  

As for me I have stopped eating so much at even at all sometimes.  Except for last night when Mike (who had a different sort of cheese) paid for a Chinese, there was cake too.  It was also from Markies (check us out we are lower middle class dysfunctional oh la la) Irish Cream and chocolate cheese cake.  I eat approximately half of it at around three this morning along with two of the doc prescribed sleepers and sleep well and dreamless after that.  Glad the school is only two sleeps away. We have the rest of today to take it easy and tomorrow to sort the house out and look at him in his uniform for the first time.  There may be a wee weak vodka, water, apple and blackcurrant then too.  Bless 'im.

NuShrink by the way.  Haven't met her yet.  Talked on the phone though.  I'm pretty hopeful. She rattles off a lot of the initials that make my ears prick.  She's done some serious work.  Forthy quid an hour, and two buses away.  Its an area I like.  I'm so up for this.. not to the point of starving myself or the wee man though of course..  Stupid GP.  I'm starting to doubt her bedside manner.  If I was able to except that the misery I experience is 'just part of being me' then I would be under media execs and organised criminals right now, in a lot more pain and with a lot less options, or still on 'Set'.  I'm not.  Dog Days sure enough but its Dog Days post Florence and the Machine.  Natural deaths and the memories that arrive because you are safe and sound.  I've said I will take the kids if needed, anytime and said I would make phone calls but I've been saying that for a long time.  Pretty sure I still have a social workers number. 

I've also said I don't want to see Alkysis for a while.  I think she should go into a hostel. Leave the rest of us to look after the kids for a while before the suits get involved.  We will never let her hit the rock bottom she is so determined hit.  I used to respect her for it sometimes.  It was such an obvious fuck you to all the 'everything is fine, we are all family who love each other, no one has any serious problems' bullshit that my mum has pushed so hard for so long.  I can't let it put me into some sort of post trauma state of shock any more though.   

I've replaced my dead Gran's old gold curtains with lovely purpely ones.  Okay so the new ones are from my dad's pub but strangely familiar small possible blood stains or patterns that make you feel drugged if you stare at for to long are irrelevant, if they are lined and someone paid several hundreds of pounds for them at some point. 

G has sent me txt in which she mentions my breasts and little else.  I have not responded.  


Alcoholism in family members: the really, really, really long goodbye.

'I'm an alcoholic.'  Her wobbly face seemed puffy but its hard to tell because the hell in her eyes makes it difficult to look closely.  'What do you want me to do?'  Her centre of non focus shifted from my direction to the vague direction of Mike the kids' father and then our dad.  Mike asked her if she had any money and if she did to give to dad or her adult son up in Aberdoom.  He's twenty, just left another broken family with two wee ones, he's usually fine but gets aggressive when drunk or angry sometimes.  He is also best friends the last person who assaulted me (just a slap and a push) and boasted about sexually abusing my son.   I wonder how far the aggression from my sister's son towards her drinking is a factor sometimes.  I remember a shared abuser, you see, between me and the nephew.  He was our downstairs neighbour when we first moved to town before my sister got pregnant.  He visited when we moved up the road, sometimes often then it tapered out.  He taught my nephew to call me a whore when he was three and groomed him into having sex with him and raping women.  In particular me and his mum.  I don't know about anyone else.  I had problems figuring out how he fitted into all the hierarchies and groups of ritual and organised crime.  I think I still do.  When things get too close to home I stop seeing it, sometimes literally.

Mike told her she had to start being honest she nods makes noises in agreement.  Before my dad took her back up the road I heard her crying in the kitchen.  When they've left Mike shows me an empty bottle of lucozade that stinks of brandy.  That sickening sweet smell that hangs to her, you can smell it in the room or in the car after she has left.  Later on I speak to my mum she has come of the phone to my sister, they had long chat by the sounds of it.  My sister had told her she hadn't touched a drop that day.  It broke my mum, briefly.  There is a quarter bottle of Marks and Spencer's vodka that was found in her bag that she left here.  I couldn't help thinking that leaving her bag with all her money and drink was her unconscious, something in her try to help herself.  It's in my cupboard and I'm glad about this..