A Change To Our Regularly Scheduled Programing.

Dear Reader,

I wanted this post to be about my experience with Quetiapine for the last week. But something has come up and I’m too angry to really focus on anything but this event right now.

So since my Nan died, my dad sees his brothers every few weeks, they have a drink on Sunday and then they go home. Today was one of those weeks.

So, let me just explain, something else, during my therapy sessions around a month ago, I talked about how much I hate Sundays. Sunday has never been a day of rest for me, ive always found it stressful. When my grandparents were alive I would spend the morning at my Nan and grandad’s and the afternoon at my grandma and granddads. then we would go home, and my parents would be drunk and they would argue. And it’s a memory that has really stuck with me and has made me feel like the parent quite regularly.

You see my parents drunk are like two children, I think I’ve talked before about how my parents rarely went out when my brother and I were little, they drank at home. But on the odd occasion, we would go to a family party, they would be there until 3-4am, my brother and I were both under 10. And then we would walk home at 4am, and I remember thinking. If anything happened, if someone came and attacked us. I would have to defend my family. I would spend the walk home on edge looking in every direction whilst I herded them out of the road. That was off topic, to round that up. My therapist realised that my hatred of Sunday was because of how I feel I need to look after my parents and so suggested I go out on a Sunday afternoon/evening so I don’t have to spend time with them whilst they are drunk.

So I have, the last few weeks I’ve been going for a walk for a couple of hours to catch Pokemon, on my new favourite game Pokemon Go. Pokemon has been a huge part of my life, I’ve waited like 20 years for this game so I’m happy.

Anyway back to story. So I come home from my two-hour long walk to the biggest atmosphere ever. This instantly pisses me off so I shout “what the hell is wrong now!” and my dad says something about how they want to scatter my Nans ashes. So who knows what happens but my mum said something that pissed my dad off and now they are not talking. I can’t be arsed with bull shit like this. It literally makes me wish I’d just carried on walking until I left the bloody country.

So here I am in my front room angrily typing on my laptop whilst ordering our dinner on just eat because they won’t talk. here is how that exchange went.

Me: Can we decide what we are eating because its 8pm

Dad: I don’t care.
Mum: I don’t mind.

me: FINE. we will have this, What do you want

Dad: whatever I normally have
Mum: I’ll have what I normally have.

So you see, I live in a house with fucking children. now they are both sulking. My mum apologised because my brother text her asking her to!

This has made me so angry, I just want to tell them both they are fucking idiots but I can’t because they are my parents. My god am I angry and stressed right now. I need to get out of here so bad, but I don’t want to. I want to be here. I just don’t want my parents to be here at the same time.

As Always,

The Elephant in the Room


3 thoughts on “A Change To Our Regularly Scheduled Programing.

  1. I can totally relate. When I was in my early teens my Dad had an affair. I came home from babysitting on New Years Eve to hear them fighting and my Mom shut herself in the spare room. She stayed in there for two days only coming out for the bathroom and to grab some food when my dad wasn’t around. They both drank heavily during the next few years while this played out. One would leave for a few weeks, come back and they would try again but it would fall apart and the other would leave. I remember praying that one would leave and stay away forever. I didn’t care which one. I just needed peace. I ran away for over 12 hours and neither one reported me missing. Like you with your walk, I sometimes wished I had kept on going. Sending hugs. It is not an easy thing to keep hearing your parents fight no matter how old you are. Take care of YOURself.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Living with and loving alcoholics is frustrating and painful. My father drank himself to alcohol related dementia. When my mom had a stroke, he hadn’t a clue and didn’t call 911. Now her brain, too, has been destroyed. Tragic and avoidable.


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