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There's No Place like Home....

  • By girly-d
  • On 06/11/2017
  • 0 comments

I've travelled 350 miles to see my family.

All two of them.

It's not going great.

I should be sat in my mums house keeping her company but my buttons have been pressed enough for one day and I can't handle that right now. So I'm sat, by myself in Wetherspoons, nursing my pretend beer and killing time until I can't put the rest of the evening off any longer.

My mum has dementia.

I came back to suprise her.   She had no idea that I'd made the journey down from Cornwall. She was ecstatic for about a millisecond but then she remembered a job that she needed my brother to do and the whole "happy to see me" thing kind of went out of the window; not the shiniest of starts....

We have a roast dinner for 3 in our usual haunt. A pub chain somewhere that we've been to before.  Our food was lukewarm..... A bit like the atmosphere. Like pulling teeth but not so much fun.

My brother and I make stilted, painful attempts at conversation. Trying to make the most of the fact that the three of us are together as a family again....secretly we are both wishing that we were somewhere else. It must be painful to watch. It's excrutiating to participate.

I'm counting the hours till my train journey home. At which point I know that I will wish I could have more time with my family....magically turning the clock back, making it full of memories tinted with sparkling unicorns and rainbows instead of the stilted, walking on eggshells affair that it has been so far. 

Every single one of my emotions is jangled. There's old stuff coming to the surface. I feel like I'm twelve year old me. It's horrendous.

I'm twitchy and on edge. Fight or flight. The only emotions I know when it comes to spending any length of time with my mum. 

My coping mechanisms are out of reach. I no longer drink, although right now I would love to get shitfaced, and I'm unable to write as there's no wi-fi at my mums house, and I need to save my data for the train journey back. 

To be fair I wouldn't be able to concentrate here anyway. The Tv in the living room is permanantly set to deafening.

I go for a walk - aka I go to Wetherspoons. 

My brother phones to check on me. He's concerned when I tell him where I am. Insists on picking me up and dropping me back to her house. I don't have it in me to argue.

 I stare at my pretend beer and will it to have some kind of numbing effect on me. It doesn't. I knock it back and walk out of the bar to wait for my brother.  It's going to be a long night. 

It's only 5pm....

I sit with my mum and we watch "Lewis" on the Tv that she still can't hear but is making my ears bleed. I drink coffee. Lots of.

The carer comes to give her her meds and asks how she's been and then shortly after my mum goes to bed.

I hear her start to pray....

 A long, lengthy affair to Jesus that includes pretty much everyone in the world. Her whispers come through the bedroom door. She has a speech impediment - it came with the disease that is slowly suffocating her head.

It's breaking my heart to see and hear her this way.

Predictably enough I don't sleep. I'm wired. And massively over-emotional.

I wake at Midnight, 1.30, 3.00am. My attempts to save data go out of the window and I begin to write....

In 31 hours I will be back on the train. Questioning why I made the journey back here in the first place. It always seems to cause more harm than good. To me anyway.

And that sounds selfish. But right now I have to be. I don't have the mental strength to deal with all of this emotion.  I feel lost and out of place. I haven't lived here for 16 years.  I miss my little caravan and my little man and my photographs on the wall in my bedroom. My little Sanctuary out in the middle of a field. Where I can be anyone I want. Far away from the headfuck that this place brings me.

Where in my head, my relationship with my mum and my brother can be strong and happy, because I haven't just had to spend 100 odd hours facing the truth that it was fractured and broken beyond repair....long before I ever got on the train to come here. 

I just want to go home....

mental health not the slide anxiety decisions

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