03/12/2010

You know those statements that people make wishing for somebody to die? I presume 99.999 of people don’t ever mean anything, literally, but  today I  want my landlord to die. Really. I wish he would have a heart attack in the toilet or fall down the stairs, and his wife to follow suit,  from a heart attack too or shock.

Or maybe a big snow boulder. I want a big snow boulder to fall on their house at night and kill them all.

Or something. I don’t know, armed robbers, car accident in the snowy roads.

I am so angry I don’t feel anything, even the cold :-‘( . Aaaaargh…

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24/11/2010

What is it they say about mixing business and pleasure?

My mum is almost done sorting  the paperwork  but last week she called to ask me to get some documents from her and my dad’s house and give it to her friend from work – who had the remaining half of these documents – who would then send them to her. I did as instructed. Found the documents, put them in an envelope and labelled them, then since I didn’t know where her friend lived – I also didn’t have any money to go anywhere that day – I called her to ask if she would come to where I live and pick them up. She said she was at work, but that I should send them by post, she would get them the next day anyway. Right, I hanged up and as I was preparing to leave for the post office my mum called. She said since I’m giving the documents to her friend I might as well also give her some money to send the documents with because she didn’t want to give the impression that we were just using her when really I could go and get the rest of the documents myself and send them. Fair enough, but I told her the only money left in my account was the money I was saving for food. She assured me that it’s OK to use it because she would send me some to spend anyway. Great. And off I went.

I sent the documents, deposited the money in mum’s friend account (FedEx rates are disgusting) and sent her a text to say it was all done. She didn’t reply for a week. In fact, since we started communicating and essentially since I was introduced to her on the phone by my mum she sent me only three texts. One to say yes it was OK for her to have the documents, two to ask me which documents were they exactly because her house was in a mess so she needed to know which ones to find them quickly, three to give me her account details. Now I do understand that she was doing us a favour, but my mum says she’s her best friend from work. Meaning, favour or not she would go out of her way to do this for her good friend, no? So why was she acting like I needed to do everything and she needed to be spoon fed every little detail about the favour? She came off to me as the kind of person who says they’re your very good friend but uses it to manipulate you, since after all you can’t do anything because she’s your very good friend. Am I making sense?

A week later my mum sends me email to thank me and say the documents have arrived, and that I should also thank her  friend. But why didn’t the friend send me a text to say she’s sent them? Attached with the email was a copy of the FedEx receipt. I looked at it and saw that the she spent less money than I had calculated. Seeing that at exactly that time I had £0.37 in my account and was not feeling well after catching a cold I decided to give her a text to ask if she could put the remaining amount in my account. I was desperate, there was no food in the house, I was ill and my mum’s transactions to my account would take a day or two at best – that is if she got the time to get off her busy schedule at all. So I sent mum’s friend a text, said thanks and asked very nicely about the rest of the money. She didn’t reply. Three days later I sent another text. No reply. Another two days, text from me, nothing from her. At this point I’m feeling awfully ill. I wait a further three days. Nothing. A week, I’m literally starving and livid, I decided to send her a text every single day until she does something about the money. I do this for four days. No reply, then on the fifth day she sends a very short text saying not to worry, she’ll put the money in my account when she goes ‘there’. This was a very incoherent text, it took me ages to decipher what exactly she typed – mainly because I don’t use text speak and she does. When she goes there? Where? To the bank? Home? Where the fuck?

So I thought, woman, not to worry? It’s been almost two weeks! And you didn’t even bother replying! I mean had she replied and told me of any difficulties she was having then I would have understood, but she went silent on me. Again, as above, acting along the lines of since I’m a very good friend then it’s alright. No it’s not alright. It’s not alright because it’s not your money and you don’t communicate. You are also just assuming that everything is well on the other side. I mean I don’t expect her to know that I didn’t have any money but in these financial times  why take for granted what people are going through? I was really angry especially because I wasn’t eating at all and was ill at the same time. Fever, headaches, period, the lot.  So I was just walking around feeling like every bit of energy being drained out of me.

On the same day that she sent me this text, she sent my mum email. I knew about this because I was the first to read it – I have my mother’s password, she gave it to me for when she is very busy, yeah I don’t know, my mum just likes things done for her sometimes but these are the perks. Anyway in the email this woman went to town with the ranting. She kept on reminding my mum of  all the things she’d ever done for her, how good friends they were and then kept reminding her wether she had ever asked for money from her? I don’t like your daughter’s messages she went on. Why would I steal your money? I don’t want your money. Have I ever taken money from you and never given it back? She continues and then goes on to say how she didn’t like the situation at all, that she was not happy with the way I was going about things.

Now I knew I was dealing with something else. My texts did not mention anywhere the words steal, stealing, keep or even took and want. My texts were basic polite requests along the lines of ‘could you please,’  ‘it would be great if you could,’  ‘is it possible’, ‘just wondering,’…I was essentially begging this woman, so where did she get this thought that I wa accusing her of stealing money? She also reminds my mum about their good friendship and how she’s never taken any money from her. Yes, that’s her, my mum. Now you are dealing with me, her daughter, two different people and I’m not your good friend. So don’t apply the same rules because you’ve never met me and we have never had to deal with money or other issues between us, we don’t have that history. That alone should make you deal with me differently. You are not happy, so am I, in fact my blood is boiling because you are taking things for granted.

With the powers bestowed upon me by my mum to be in receipt of her email password, I sent a generic ‘I’m sorry about my daughter’s behaviour’ email. I know my mum, this is exactly what she would have done. I then went to my phone and sent another generic text saying my mum just called me and I’m sorry if I caused any offence. I backtracked on my initial stance of asking for the money every single day until she gave in because a.) I was very poorly and didn’t want any more stress b.) I figured this is how she wanted to play the game, with her very good friend syndrome, maybe she wanted to be begged and cajoled?

Five days now, still no money or a text from her. I’ve heard it’s going to snow later in the week, I hope it won’t in these parts because if it gets too cold and I don’t have any food? Argh…I want to smash some windows or cut my hair or something. These are the so-called friends people have. I boggle at her behaviour. Why do people do this? So they can have a hold on their friends? I’ve never held on to my friends’ money even though we were good friends. Money is money, I treat it like it is. I’m of the opinion that you never know what people need to do with money, so if you owe a friend some money, give it back as soon as you can and if you can’t tell them early on why you can’t, chances are even though they need it very much, they’ll understand. What’s so difficult about that? But when someone goes about testing a friendship with these cheap money tactics it becomes irritating.

19/11/2010

Number of job applications this week: 12

Rejections by email: 3

Spirit level: -1

Cold and fever caught: 1

Number of headaches: Infinite

Here’s hoping you have a lovely weekend.

03/11/2010

It’s 3:40 pm, I turn over in my duvet-heavy bed and sluggishly glance towards the door of my room. BB is standing there. Am I dreaming? I ask myself and try to sit up. No I’m not. Oh dear God. Panic. That is BB standing at the door.

Then it hits me. What???? No, no, no, no!  This man did not just ambush me in my place? I did not remember any talk of  meeting him today. He’s appeared unannounced, to find me at my most undignified. A stinking room, dirty bowl and spoon with dried weetabix bits on them,  on the bed beside my head, a packet of sainsbury’s basics sultanas next to it,  bits of used tissue and dirty clothes all over the floor and my menses stained knickers hanging at the corner of my bed. I’m ashamed. I want to die. Oh the humiliation! It’s unbearable. I want to get up but I’m incapacitated with self loathing.

“Hello, I wasn’t expecting you, how did you get in?”

“The woman opened the  door for me”

“Oh, eerrm…I was reading then I fell asleep”

“I can see that, is it warm in there? I’ll join you”

No, please no. You wouldn’t like the smell in here. At this point I’m thinking…hide the dirty stuff on display…hide that bit of the second duvet that’s worn out…do something…save yourself from this shame. But I can’t. He’s already removed his clothes and has jumped next to me. Feelings of rage start to creep up within me. He has no right! He can’t just turn up. He has no right to turn up like this and make me feel less of a human being due to the conditions I live in. In times like these I want to be alone. I don’t want anyone to see the crazy state I’m in. When I’m alone, I don’t have to pretend. I can wallow in my depression and continue fighting a loosing battle with my insomnia whilst indulging and entertaining my glorious disturbed sleep patterns. Then he comes in like this. This is not a part of me I want him to see. Then I calm down – it’s not my fault after all, I didn’t ask him to turn up impromptu.

Up until now he had only been to my place once – after I had done a massive clear out and cleaned the place up and now. And of course after apologising profusely for the state of it – most of which wasn’t my poor self’s fault – the stained and discoloured roof for starters. Ugh. On that occasion it went well though. He didn’t seem to mind and even helped me take out some rubbish that The Witch thought convenient to tell me off about in front of him. But this was different.

One hour after he got naked, I put my hand over his torso  and a few minutes later I hear:

“We should stop doing this”

“What?”

“Having sex”

Oh dear me. This is it.

“I don’t spend quality time with you”

So why the hell did you fucking come over today? How about you should have told me this via earlier and not turned up. Or how about you should have turned up and NOT got naked, but just you know…tell me this and then go?

I remain silent. I play with his hair a little, he tells me to stop then gets up to dress. He notices the sultanas and makes a comment about how good sultanas are. All I can think of is that they are just sainsbury’s basics. Cheap. I’m a total and massive contrast to his comfortable middle class existence. No wonder he wants out? He also mentions something about how warm my bed is. Do I like to keep warm he asks? I pull a duvet over me as he says:

“We should stop because it’s not fair to you. I don’t make enough time for you”

He leans over to kiss me. Tears start forming. God please no, I can’t start crying now. Not for this man. Please.

“But you are funny, you don’t care”

I do. I fucking care. I fucking care so much. I fucking care so much that I’ve had to suppress my tears. He said I didn’t care because two weeks ago, while apologising for yet another flying visit I told him it doesn’t matter when he sees me. It was his life I said and I will not force him to see him. It’s not like I was married to him or was his girlfriend, I continued, matter of factly. I didn’t mean that. I was hurting and angry…and needy so I just said this to appear ‘cool with it’. He remembered it.

“It’s not that I don’t care”, I smiled faintly and swallowed a huge lump in my throat. He stood up to put on his jumper and said that it wasn’t fair that he couldn’t see me enough but would make sure to find sometime for us to do something ‘more’. So what is it? Is that it or do I have to wait and see if he has found the time to do ‘more’ things together?

He blew me a kiss and left. I lay in bed  thinking of that scene in Bille August’s The House of the Spirits, where Esteban visits a prostitute and asks her  to be tender with him and pretend to care for him, just for that day. Substitute  the prostitute with BB.

I wish I’d never met him.

**An hour letter I check my emails and see one from him, sent at 2:32 pm, without a body, titled ‘Hello are yyou home at 3.30pm?’ I wasn’t online so I couldn’t reply, but why would he just turn up? If you don’t get a reply you wait for one!

23/07/2010

From this post: Yes, I think my dad is depressed.  I’ve been depressed too so it’s clear for me to see. My mum thinks this too but she has this absurd way of walking around  issues without really dealing with them. My mother has also gone through periods of extreme stress but being busy and being responsible for keeping the family together coupled with a very resilient character has made her stay on top of things.

When I was 18 and everything was starting to fall apart,  my mother took out her stress and frustrations on me. Being the eldest child, she would tell me off about anything that happened at home that she did not like. She would even refer to my brother’s mistakes as mine. If my brother did something she would start with ‘you children always do this…e.t.c”. Being a teenager and going through that roller coaster phase that every teenager goes through I always made sure to let her know that I was not happy with that. I would argue with her, we would talk about things as a result of these arguments and I would get it out of my chest and then we would make up, but of course she never stopped. She  minimised it, but she didn’t stop. I understood somehow that her treating me differently from my brother was because  she was looking to me as the eldest of the two to set an example which is fair enough. However, it was very tiring  to have this kind of responsibility weighed upon me when it was that it could be shared, and sometimes none of it was my fault.

So she called me selfish. All the time. I was selfish because I told her her to be  specific about the mistakes I made and the mistakes my brother made. I was selfish for pointing out that responsibility was not mine alone. I became very frustrated that I didn’t communicate exactly what I felt because I have a introvert-extrovert kind of personality.  Sometimes I got really angry and complained and shouted and then cried. Sometimes I just stared at her blankly as she ranted away because I couldn’t take it anymore. I could feel my spirit dying away very slowly. She called this selfish.

So, I went around doubting myself. I’m I being selfish now? Is this right. What should I do here? Would my mother think this is selfish? I went around not thinking about myself and my needs because I was scared of being selfish.

Then I grew up. No longer a teenager and starting to understand the serious issues in life I decided to back away from unnecessary arguments with my mum. Our relationship changed to the point that I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want any arguments, so I usually told her calmly if I didn’t agree with her and just generally avoided unpleasant situations. If she was having a random rant I would just let her let it all out and then just nod or offer my very brief opinion and that would be the end of that. Part of me wanted a good relationship with her while the other part of me just wanted some peace and calm. I was tired and weary of arguments and resentment. I changed. I grew up. This has been good for me because we can now communicate as adults without any one of us going away huffing and puffing with resentment, disappointment or even anger. This change in attitude  also helped me learn that I can think about my needs and not be selfish. In fact these days I don’t listen to my mum when she starts with that selfish tirade, which thankfully she hasn’t done in about two years. I know better now and I think she finally realised that I saw through her manipulation because let’s be honest she was manipulating me by calling me selfish.

My dad is different. My dad is difficult. He’s an extreme introvert. I mean really introverted. He’s not flexible too. He has this type of personality where it’s very easy for him to develop a low self-esteem. With him, when things are going well, money flowing in, kids getting good grades, affluence…influence..you know the lot, he’s happy. When things are difficult he gets stuck in this negative and self deprecating rut that is almost impossible to get him out of.  Sadly, life isn’t that one-dimensional. I remember once last year he refused to talk to my brother because he was not getting good grades. My relationship with him hasn’t been bad at all, although being the way he is and with all the problems around us, most of the times he hasn’t made the effort to communicate with me. And when someone doesn’t communicate with you and you have so many issues to deal with it gets really difficult to  get talking properly about things. It’s also extremely hard when this person is very negative.

I don’t want to be around negative people. I don’t want to deal with negativity.  Is that so bad?

When I was away at uni my dad never really called me or sent me emails a lot, just the odd one. I used to send him  e-cards on occasions like his birthday or father’s day when I couldn’t afford the postal ones but he didn’t respond  most of the times. Our communication was mostly along the lines of:

‘Hi dad, are you alright, how’s everything bla bla bla. My uni work is this and that bla bla bla…’ and he would reply with the same kind of thing , ‘I’m fine…bla bla bla. This is what is happening at home bla bla bla…’

It was just like that. It worked most of the times because I understood that my dad isn’t that big on words and opening up, so I left it like that because I knew my dad loved me and I love him very much. I was aware it was due to my dad’s depression and the stressful situation were in so I just worked at making myself feel better first and making sure my family was OK.  Things got bad and they are now worse after he quit his  job. When I talk to my dad I feel as if I’m being judged for something. He used to call me the last few days when I was at uni and it always felt like I was under watch. We didn’t communicate. He was just frustrated.

‘What are you doing? Where are young going? I called and you were not at home, where were you? How are your studies?’

That is not a phone conversation. I hated that, so all I did was just answer his questions, offer brief explanations and that was that. My parents in general haven’t been the let’s-be-open-and-talk-about-everything kind of people. I don’t know, I guess it could it could be because of my parents need to protect us and in a way treat us as precious little children or it could just be tradition, but that’s the way it is and I can’t change that now.

Still, my mum is very hands on. She calls us, emails, talks to us. She is generally the one who’ll tell me to get out there and live life. She makes an effort to make everyone happy. Now my dad has started saying that we are excluding him in stuff and my mum is blaming me. He says that we are talking to each other and doing things together and leaving him out. I don’t understand this. It’s his doing. He doesn’t want to do things, he is always worried about how much money we spend. He’s constantly stressing over things and when my mother tries to make him do things to make him feel positive, he refuses to do them. He sometimes even refuses to go for walks or treat himself to something that will make him feel better. He just wants to stay at home and be depressed. I don’t want to live like that. I want to be happy. I want to meet people. So I make an effort not to be in the company of my dad because he is so negative and I don’t want his kind of mindset. It’s not that I don’t like him. I love my father but I don’t want to live like him. Is it so wrong that I don’t want this kind of life? Does loving your parents mean putting up with a negative attitude? I’m also a grown up now and I’m a woman, surely my relationship with my father is going to be different from my mother. At this point in my life, I’m going to be close to my mother than my father but that doesn’t mean I don’t love him or care for him. So  why is my mum blaming me?

She went to work yesterday and called me for about half an hour to tell me off. She says I should make an effort even if my dad does not make any effort at least I’ll have done my part. But why is this? It’s not fair. He’s the one who isn’t making any effort, so why shouldn’t he be told to make an effort? I’ve been extremely patient with the situation at home. I’ve respected him. I’ve never shouted at him and or been rude to him when things were getting extremely hard and when he was not being very nice to my mum. I’ve never demanded anything of him, so why I’m I being told that it’s my fault? It’s not my fault that he’s depressed. It’s not my fault that he’s not working towards feeling good and being happy. I’m angry at my mum for making me feel guilty. Deep down I know it’s my dad making my mum feel guilty. It’s his low self-esteem and depression that is making him think  he’s being neglected. I just feel as if every time I try to stay on top of things, my dad puts me down again.

Tell me what’s wrong with wanting to run away from all this negativity?

Whenever my mum starts going on about this, I always think of that moment when I found a note from my dad to my mum in the kitchen table with my mum’s bank statement.

‘We don’t have money. She’ll never finish university’

Or that day when my mum sent me a message asking me to come up with a surprise present to give to my dad after graduation. For his efforts. I’m sorry but as much as I’m supposed to thank my parents for financing my education but I’m the one who is graduating. And my mum is the one who has struggled a lot more than my dad. A lot more.  If I was goin to buy a present it would be for her.  But, I didn’t say anything. Didn’t complain, just focused on completing my  degree, and now I’m the one who isn’t making an effort.