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.
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.
