Flashing By

Oh hey, I blinked and now it's September.... bloody hell, 3 months til the C word, the first one I will have to spend enforced time with my mother, and my ex, oh great, kill me now. The first one without father and that will be weird but I fully intend to cook dinner for my mum this year and she'll do absolutely nothing, I have decided, she deserves to be spoilt for once, it's up to me to make it happen, and I will, I'm a determined pro in the Christmas lunch stakes.

The guns didn't get valued and I'm a bit suspicious why, the guy that was supposed to do it just gave mum his 'expert' opinion, hmmmmm. I know dad trusted him to be the car mechanic and because of him the car passed the MOT today but a gut feeling doubt is niggling at me that something doesn't smell entirely right with this whole scenario. He reckons dad's best gun is only worth about £250, that doesn't sound right.... I may be wrong as I am no expert but I will research it. If it's indeed a low value item then I may as well keep it for the memories, I have a watch, a hammer and a potential gun as my inheritance and that'll do me, don't want a stake in the house thanks very much, that's mum's.

Had quite a bad hypo tonight, that's 2 severe ones in about 3 weeks, maybe I should consult the diabetic nurse?

Standing Our Ground

My first visit to a solicitor today, lucky me, I've not been arrested or anything... yet, this is all probate related, ah we love that word, it's my mother and myself's fave word right now... not! It looks like we'll be going through it whatever happens as the 'estate' (I use that term loosely) is too large, er, it's just a house, which belongs to my mother, when it's all sorted. I'm going to keep quiet and say nothing about my supposed share of it, I don't want anything from my mother, I'm not sucking at life so I'm perfectly happy to plod on as I am, leaving her to decide her own destiny, for the first time in her life. Apparently it needs adding to the land registry or something, more money, they know how to extract it well it seems.

It's all gobbledygook to me, I'm sure they understand it all, well at least I hope they do! It all needs to be done before any changes so we have to get mum's house valued so we know exactly the prices for fees and suchlike, fun. The guns are being valued tomorrow, so another loose end tied up as we find out the worth of that lot. I'd still like to keep it but I'm resigning myself to the fact I may not be able to, in fact my interest is waning when I think about the £150 and how that could take me on a relaxing holiday to Yorkshire instead.... I'm torn. I'm not money driven at all, the value of the Aya gun wouldn't sway me unless it could cure all our money woes in one hit, then it might, purely as a consequence of father's inability to think things through his only offspring could lose out on keeping it as an important memory, a legacy gone because he thought he was cleverer than he actually was, sad thought really but what can I do? Rock and hard place. Meh, it'll sort itself out in time, I can't drive myself nuts any more over it, I'd be joining the father in the hole if I carried on the way I was, not healthy.

Battle Lines

Blimey, mega intense afternoon/evening trying to sort out 'LS' and her daughter. I thought I grew up in a shouty house, holy shit, mine was a picnic in the park compared to what we had this afternoon. Very emotional, very fraught, very last chance saloon... I don't know if we got anywhere, that remains to be seen but her and the boyfriend are moving out anyway, it can't go on any longer, I fear for 'LS's mental health if this continues, she's going to crack. So, I did my best to referee, and boy it was hard work but I had to do something to resolve the issues, I felt I had to, gut instinct again, I'm learning to trust it more and more as I wander through life.

I remember the life I had 6 weeks ago, when all I was worried about was what graphics card was going in the new computer I was building... it seems like another reality ago that is a distant memory these days, now I have a serious responsibility to care for my mother when before I had only myself to keep in check, I just hope I have the strength reserves to carry the both of us forward. Somehow I found an incredible strength to get through my father's funeral and shock the hell out of everyone who wrote me off with my well written and heartfelt eulogy, where the hell did that come from? I have no freakin' idea!!! I surprised myself too, how I did it I don't know. Whether the grief will sneak up and hit me hard later on, I don't know, but right now it's there but it's not overwhelming, I know I will survive this because I've fought all my life to survive, the main cause of my self loathing has now gone, I'll never be called stupid by my dad again, there's a tremendous amount of relief that comes with that.... and enormous guilt because despite it all I loved him sooooo much.

Is this it, what I'm feeling? I feel ok, I can still laugh and joke with my mates, is that it, can it really be this easy to lose your father? I feel like I should be crying more and feeling sadder, it seems like I'm numb, is it these antidepressants I'm on making me so emotionless? So many damn questions going around in my head. Jesus, what a total f*ck up, back on the phones tomorrow to sort shit out to do with the mess dad left us in, many calls to make so I guess I should go to bed but my head still spins away merrily.... ugh. I want a time machine right now, pop back to a more carefree time, not gonna happen though eh?

Money Or Memories

I'm in a quandary, sort of, well.... I know what I want but it may not be feasible. I want to keep my dad's Aya shotgun, for sentimental reasons, not sell it like my mother is suggesting for monetary gain. I just did a quick Google and saw one for sale for £19,000, is that a price worth selling my good memories for? Mum wants me to sell them. The fond times I had with my dad when he let me come shooting with him and I sat in the hide quiet as a mouse with Sally our dog, excited so much my dad - my hero, my superman - had let me come along. I want the gun but I have a money problem, I don't have much, and I've just found out that probate could cost me £600 to give my own mother her own house.... I'm confused and upset by it.

If only my dad had left a will, why didn't he? Was this his final act of 'f*ck you' to my mother and myself? Was he really that intent on destroying us both? I stood up in church and told happy stories of what my dad meant to me, which was everything, but they were all before the age of 15 when he suddenly turned on me and the years of torment began. No, it wasn't just him that shot me down, but he was the main perpetrator, I was suicidal at 17, such a young age to be so tormented, he made me think that part of me was so repulsive that I spent years soul searching trying to find it and get rid of it. I asked a few weeks back when my penance would end and then it did, on 25th July, I guess I got the answer to my question eh?

I just love the fact I made all their mouths fall open as I eloquently read my witty and well prepared speech at the funeral, the stupid one came good, in a big way. They all wrote me off and I surprised them all, I feel pretty good about that and I think I should, pride is a pretty unfamiliar emotion to me, it would have meant so much to me to hear my dad say the words "I'm proud of you", nothing would have made me happier in the world in fact, nothing.

I'm a bit worried about these antidepressants and what they're doing to me, I've almost turned into an emotionless robot, it worries me, life has pain and we all have to feel it to be real, I don't want to be numb to everything, scary. I didn't once cry or even think of crying at my own father's funeral, that's wrong isn't it? That I looked at the coffin and it meant nothing to me, he went 4 weeks ago as far as I'm concerned, not Tuesday in that crappy little wooden box, which he probably creosoted as he did everything else.

Otherwise busy still, having a house meeting with 'LS' and her daughter Sunday, try and sort some stuff out. Got a working toilet again - yay! About bloody time I say, it's only been 4 weeks. Been up since 6.45am, need some sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep, big time.

The Sense Of Duty

Another day, another set of phone calls... obviously. I actually feel lost if I'm not phoning anyone now, how sad is that? Blimey, I need to get a life, or get my old life back.... not sure that's ever going to happen because now too much has changed to ever go back to what it was, I have new responsibilities now that I can't shirk with good conscience, sigh, life really did change for me on the 25th July 2018. It was the day I really became a true card holding, fee paying adult..... bound to happen sooner or later I suppose but it came so quickly I didn't even get to blink, that sucks.

I'm not feeling sorry for myself or anything really, been too damn busy!!! I've rung the bank and found out how to close dad's account, I've sorted out her car insurance so that's valid from the 31st, I've been and sorted out the difficult subject of charity grants and suchlike with the undertaker, like a big girl, because mother couldn't face it. Actually that was tough, not the bit about 'we're not paying you til the grant comes' through stuff but another thing. I was sat in the car outside, with the clothes that they are dressing him in to be buried, feeling the material of the jeans and the shirt, and that was damn hard knowing where they were going, to clothe him for his final journey. That felt worse than agreeing to parts of his body being used for medical science.... holy shit, I have done some stuff in this process that has been SO hard, to shield my mother from it mostly, to shield a woman who has treated me with contempt many times and thought - along with my father - that I was stupid and worthless, who said to her friend she wished she'd never had me.... that was nice to hear at 17, let me tell you. Yet now, here I am trying to take the incredible weight of all this on my shoulders and getting minimal gratitude, if any.... boy, I'm either a saint or a complete mug, you choose. Well, looks like old dumb f*ck here isn't doing too bad is she, eh?

What am I going to do if she starts crying in front of me on Tuesday? I haven't got a clue, I can't even touch her with compassion I feel so detached from her in the sense of a normal mother and daughter relationship, we've never really had one. I'm afraid I'm going to have to sit away from her and pretend it's because of the eulogy and getting up to speak and such like, so I can look the other way, that sounds awful but this woman has never shown me one single emotion in my life, or compassion to me, and I have not one idea how to comfort her.... I just can't, period.

Oh well, such is life eh? I'll soldier on. Might go see 'LS' tomorrow, might go fill that bloody dip in the drive dad made just to be awkward to the neighbours, such fun my life is!

Drowning

Not only does my life suck balls right now but now my £75 quid keyboard has stopped glowing so I can bloody see it in the dark.... which I the main reason I effin' bought it!!! I dunno if I've pressed something and turned it off or what the hell is happening here. Maybe if I do a PC restart it may come back on but I have shitloads of bloody tabs open dealing with the hilarity of finding a company to empty my mother's septic tank!

Yes, my life really has turned to shit, or trying to find a company to get rid of it at a price that won't make us all die of shock. Oh man, the house insurance won't deal with me without mum being there to give consent but Scottish Power were very good and now that's sorted, thank the lord, one success today at least, one to tick off the list at least. No call from car insurance though and the undertakers are still dodging the question about whether they're digging a double or single grave.... FFS!! I have asked the woman twice now by email and nothing, she can expect a visit if I don't hear anything by Wednesday, had enough. Why my mother can't just phone and ask her is a source of mystery to me, since it's her grave and all that, Jesus, throw me a frikkin' bone here!

She just seems to be content to take a back seat whilst I run myself ragged over every little detail, apparently I learn we've had about 30 sympathy cards for our loss, and I think I have seen 1 out of all of them... it's just doing my head in, at some point she needs to get a grip and realise she needs to learn how to do this stuff for herself, is this going to be my life now? I'm being my dad to her, sorting everything, I may look like him but I'm not HIM and she needs to stand on her own two feet in this world like I do, like I bloody HAD to when I moved out and took on the big bad world.... well, I say moved but it was more like made a run for it from father's put downs and temper.

Talking with his neighbour's daughter today had me so ashamed I nearly got emotional, about how his tyranny stopped this poor woman of 90'ish going into her garden if he was about, just scaring her and making her upset for no reason except he didn't like her fir tree and started threats of solicitors and all sorts. I was genuinely upset for her and my gut is telling me I need to go see her and say sorry, I trust my gut now, it's the right thing to do, I know it is.

So many emotions going on right now, being in his garage with the chair he used to sit in, with the packets of seed potatoes we got together not long ago, looking at his vegetable garden..... the child in me wants her daddy back, as bad as he was to me. I want to be carried up the stairs like 'a sack of spuds' as he used to say, to go out to his friends house on a Saturday morning and sit under the table being quiet as a mouse as they talked. Yet I remember what he used to say to me, destroy me with words and because of that I'm in the mental health system. It's not all his fault, mother is a master of insensitivity and subtle put downs, I learnt early on in my life never to show emotions, keep how you feel secret, because of her.....

I guess I'm just rambling now but it needs an outlet, I'm angry at the moment, angry this whole thing has happened, maybe angry at dad for leaving me, leaving me to deal with all this shit. God, I'm going to need some counselling after this, I was struggling before this, before the weight of the world fell on my crumbling shoulders. And I'm a bit upset that someone I thought was there for me seems to backed off, death isn't pleasant and I get people don't want to be around it but...... just feeling a bit let down, I'm still the same old me, it may have changed me in subtle ways but still I stay the same don't I?

Weight Of The World

I truly feel like I have a million bricks on my shoulders right now. I have done everything required of a dutiful daughter today, taking the mother into the bank, the photo shop, the supermarket, the chemist... yet still when she phones me I just get yelled at for trying to explain how I'm working through the pile of people who need telling the father went and dropped f*cking dead on us 2 weeks ago. I'm doing my best here, she's blind to it, she was blind to her own domestic abuse and blind to the fact her husband systematically emotionally beat down her child until there was not much left at all, just a pile of goo and bones.

I feel a bit like going into the middle of the woods and screaming.

I will get to the end of the things to do eventually though one hopes. We went and finalised the funeral service this afternoon, so that's all done. Of course I let mum have her way about which pic to have on the front of the service booklet, she can have what she wants, my pic can go on the back, does it even matter? Apparently we're getting a mock up so we can see which we like best, but it's a done deal as far as she's concerned, I'm left with no stomach for a fight over any of it any more, do what you like and charge over £4000 for it people, knock yourselves out.......

Oh and a quote from mum's mate to end.....

"Hope you are coping ok, your mum tells me she couldn't have managed without you. xx"

Huh... who knew.