Monthly Archives: August 2006

Apologies

The promised (threatened?) stream of posts about the past few weeks have been postponed. I hope to do them tomorrow as I fully intend to be a bit more upbeat about life, the universe and everything tomorrow and it will put me in the right frame of mind for blogging.

The last few days have been a bit busy for internet life and also I am in a bit of a slough of despond which I am battling. Probably best if you stop reading here while I bemoan my miserable state and sound thoroughly depressed, which I’m not. Indeed it feels as though I am stood at the top of a rollercoaster heading downwards, yet still at the point where I can get off… and I am determined to get off and walk away before that downward spiral begins. I might break out the St Johns Wort, though – although having said that, prayer is a sight stronger and more effective.

It seems to be cyclic (don’t mention hormones, I guess they’re partly to blame) but the arrangements for Dad’s care seem to hit the periodic (no pun intended, two out of three are way beyond that!) glitch which ends up with people feeling resentful and hurt. Somehow we all have to hold onto the fact that we are all struggling and all under similar and yet different stresses and all actually trying our best in a no-win situation.

This coming month one sister basically wants a month or so off. She feels torn between her adult children and grandchildren and Dad. The journey for her from there to here is not easy and she does not feel able to do two weeks in a row, travelling home simply to go to work for two days… with the result that it works out that she would need six weeks off. I don’t blame her at all, the other demands on her are real and I would want to be there for them too if it were me. Trouble is, who covers those weeks? My other sister has two long weekends which she really wants to take, and as she has had no holiday at all this year I really want her to be able to go. But who’s left holding the baby.. in fact, all three babies? And I am having visitors during that month too. It’d be alright if we could discuss it without getting emotionally involved or saying things that the others find hurtful, but I’ve obviously said something to hurt my sister about her wanting the six weeks off because she’s finding it difficult to speak to me at all. And I don’t know what to do about it.

Here I am stuck in soul-searching. I want to do what’s best for everyone but seem to be doing what’s best for noone. Am I manipulative, as I’ve been accused? I am fairly confident I don’t do it deliberately and certainly never maliciously. My other sister gave as an example the time that I’d said that I was having visitors overnight and that, while I’d explained to them that I would probably be over at Dad’s and could only offer them bed and board but not my company, I just wondered if she might be able to come a day early and let me spend the evening with them. Apparently she felt manipulated into saying yes. I can see how she might feel that, but I’m blowed if I know what I should have done or said instead. And how is it different from her saying that she’d really like to go away for the weekend but will cancel it if she really has to? I have been going round in circles all day. Stuck between a rock and a hard place. And the only way out of it is to say I’ll do it all, and yet then feeling resentful myself.

I end up doing the rotas because the others don’t want to do it and yet then I am villain of the piece because I’m manipulating them into doing things they don’t want, even though I have tried to take on board all their other commitments and my own and then just put together a proposal which, as I see it, is just a starting point for discussion. AAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!! You see, it’s happening. I’m feeling resentful and I so don’t want to! And my self esteem feels as though it’s taking a battering because it seems my best aint good enough. Where’s that brick wall? I want to bash my head against it.

Add to this the frustration of finding out my longed-for extension, the one that’s a necessity rather than a luxury, will cost twice the amount I’ve budgeted for it and thus is way beyond my means. My brother, God bless him, is determined I should go ahead regardless and has offered to provide the money as a permanent loan. I am going to have to say yes, I think, but I so don’t want to be so greatly in his debt, I really don’t. And it feels as though I’ve manipulated him into that position too. I’ve looked at every option, but the only properties within my price range are grotty little terraces and how can I give up my beautiful bungalow for those, simply to get another bedroom, especially as the location is ideal for me and for the boys? It’s as though a rug has been pulled from under my feet. My only hope is that social services will come up trumps, but I seriously doubt they’re planning to throw £40,000 into the pot.

Good news is that my hospital test results show that there is nothing seriously wrong to be causing the symptoms I have been experiencing. I am mainly delighted to hear this. The only downside to this news is that this means there is nothing they’re planning to do to relieve the symptoms as the cause is simply put down to stress. Ho hum.

But my sense of humour is still intact, lots of good things are happening, and tomorrow I shall blog you all to death either before or after a trip to the garden centre in search of a modern-day Bit and Bot.

(And my beloved sister, I can’t say this out loud because I don’t want to upset us both but I do so wish you could step back a moment and read my mind and realise how much it hurts every time you tell me that it’s much easier for me because I don’t have a husband to consider. I know you’d be devastated to think you’d hurt me and that’s why I can’t tell you – but one thing that makes this particularly hard is not having a husband who will put his arms round me and comfort me and tell me he loves me and make it all better again).

I’m back!

OK, so it seemed a bit of a long holiday Deeleea.. but I’m here and planning a load of blogginess to make up for lost time. It’s your own fault. You asked for it! And I shall expect you to read every last boring minute of it ;o)

Actually, it will probably be only a short entry and extremely interrupted as my supervisory role is greatly in demand right now. This is due to the impending arrival of two new members of the family. No, you can breathe again, Tiddles hasn’t made anyone pregnant (as far as I know). No, Smudgelet has been saving his pennies and is planning to exercise his new-found sense of responsibility by branching out into pet-keeping – so not the patter of tiny feet but the splosh and bloop of tiny fins in the form of two goldfish. So the gravel is currently being distributed over the bottom of the tank .. and the lounge floor…. and in a moment it will be joined with water. Woo hoo!

Tiddles is suffering from goldfish envy. He’s frustrated that he has no money to spend as he’s longing for goldfish too. His choice – his choice. In fact this holiday is proving a real financial learning experience… or would be if he could but learn from it. His holiday spending money was confiscated after he was a little bit too free with a quantity of money of mine (silly boy!). Smudgelet’s always had a real problem with generosity and sharing, but seems to be overcoming that and was unable to stand seeing his brother in pecuniary difficulty during the holidays and kept bailing him out, which wasn’t quite the point. So I instigated the Holiday Diary Earning Scheme. Each evening they were given twenty minutes to do a diary then the quality of the diary was judged and given marks out of ten, each mark being rewarded with 5p. Needless to say, Smudgelet seized the challenge and earned himself another £4 spending money over the week. Tiddles? Well, he continued to bemoan the fact that he couldn’t afford to spend any money at all all week and has continued to do so since returning home. Silly boy.

People keep asking how Dad is. It’s hard to say. Mentally he’s far far more with it and he’s drawing and painting, going for little walks, and yesterday even came with us for a ride in the car to the local garden centre (even though he sufffered for it afterwards). But painwise he’s really suffering and has been shaken by the oncologist’s latest comment that his arm is in severe risk of breaking. He’s going for more radiotherapy to see if it will ease the pain at all. His nights are more broken now (guess who’s doing nights!). It was quite tempting to take it personally when he deteriorated again the day I returned from holiday after being really quite well for my sisters! I think it’s more a case that he feels less that he has to make an effort for me than for them.

Right, off to supervise the washing of my lounge floor! Will return shortly with holiday tales.