Life, And Other Natural Disasters...

I know my sister and my father mean well, and their advice not to bring Russ (rock_bear ) along to my cousin's wedding is based on the premise that being as very few members of my mother's family know that I am gay.  And that my quite dramatic outing could cast a shadow over what is, in truth, the special day of the Bride and Groom.  My friend Jean confirmed as much last night - I rang her as an independent counsel, if you like.

I feel a very emotional little koala right now.

Briefly : Xmas Eve - Dear Beloved Aged Parent picks me up around lunchtime and we drive to Southampton Airport for the flight to Guernsey; lunch was pepperoni pizza - how festive. 35 minute flight uneventful; arrived at the hotel and my gaydar pinged off the scale on being introduced to the co-owner of the hotel - camp is not the word. Alas, somewhat in the Old Queen league, and therefore dismissed as being of no intrinsic value...! The hotel was mainly filled with retired gentlefolk, with which much polite conversation was made, while my teeth ground. Food was excellent; plenty of it too. Alas, sleep was a precious commodity; Dear Beloved Aged Parent snores if not worse than me, certainly on a par.

Xmas Day - Went for a walk, and then a drive around the island. Christmas lunch; pretty traditional. Snoozed most of the afternoon then watched some movie or other - I forget what. Light buffet supper. Bog all sleep again.

Boxing Day - Walk. Drive round Island. Eat. Drive into town. Eat. Try to sleep. Trying not to commit patricide.

Got up early on the Saturday to catch the flight back to Southampton, then Dear Beloved Aged Parent drove me to Karen and Keith's in Crawley. As he drove off, gave huge sigh of relief. Nothing against the old bugger, but he was trying to be too jolly to one of the waitresses, which started to wear a bit thin. Much as the hotel was nice; food was excellent... if I do anything like that again, I think I will try and stick out for separate rooms.

And onto today. Woke up around 7am, and looked on CEEFAX for Douglas's flight.

"0950 Dallas Fort W AA 78 Expected 1254"

Groan. Roll over. Hung around at Karen and Keith's until around 12-ish then struck out for the airport. As I arrived around 1240, the plane landed, so I hung around until the flight status changed to In Customs Hall. Pottered up to an internet kiosk to get rid of spurious e-mail, and had just finished as a somewhat dis-shevelled Douglas staggered towards me muttering things about nicotine, caffeine and his general loathing of Texas and American Airlines. So, replete with the above, we got on a grotty conveyance and ended up back home.

Thus endeth the festive season...

Got hold of a copy of "The Very Best Of Cat Stevens" today; a particular track seems to strike a chord with me regarding my relationship with my father. Guess I'm not the only one...

It's not time to make a change
Just relax, take it easy
You're still young, that's your fault
There's so much you have to know
Find a girl, settle down
If you want, you can marry
Look at me, I am old
But I'm happy

I was once like you are now
And I know that it's not easy
To be calm when you've found
Something going on
But take your time, think a lot
I think of everything you've got
For you will still be here tomorrow
But your dreams may not

How can I try to explain
When I do he turns away again
And it's always been the same
Same old story
From the moment I could talk
I was ordered to listen
Now there's a way and I know
That I have to go away
I know I have to go

It's not time to make a change
Just sit down and take it slowly
You're still young that's your fault
There's so much you have to go through
Find a girl, settle down
If you want, you can marry
Look at me, I am old
But I'm happy

All the times that I've cried
Keeping all the things I knew inside
And it's hard, but it's harder
To ignore it
If they were right I'd agree
But it's them they know, not me
Now there's a way and I know
That I have to go away
I know I have to go

- Steven Demetre Giorgiou

The last two nights dreams have involved death. Sunday night involved my Mom; we knew precisely when she was going to die, and I tried to do my damndest to stop it from happening. Monday night, my father died in front of me and there was nothing I could do to stop it. But I kept blaming myself for it.

Strange.

Visiting aged parent over the weekend... wish me luck!!

I don't know where I'm going. This fact has started to bug me of late - I keep having this horrible vision of being sat at the same desk in 10 years time in the same house in the same town in the same mess...
( Read more... )

I think I'm in a bit of a maelstrom this evening. My therapist suggested that I write down what's going on for me after thie evening's session - so, here I am in a pub near the Guildhall in Portsmouth, with a double vodka and orange (no, I don't intend getting blitzed), and a pen and paper, trying not to be distracted by a particulary woofy member of the bar staff...!!
Where to begin - It seemed we focussed on a particularly hurtful period of my life about twenty years ago, while I was attempting further/higher education, from 1982 to 1986. I was persuaded to take A levels in Chemistry, Mathematics and Biology - despite my O levels in these subjects being average (about 45-55% marking). I hadn't chosen these subjects because I enjoyed these subjects, but because my dear father had told me "Take sciences - you'll get a job with sciences..."!!! And of course, I did everything that daddy told me to do. Big mistake. The next 3 years at school and college proved to be quite a depressing exercise in futility; it becoming piercing clear that I WAS NO DAMN GOOD IN THESE SUBJECTS AT ADVANCED LEVEL!!! This became clear after the first set of examinations, and I was told by my father that I would have to spend a minimum of 3 hours an evening and all day Sunday studying. After 2 years, I took the examinations and failed all three subjects. Did this make anything clear? Nope. My father signed me up for another resit year at the local technical college. Did I think I was living my life here? Nope. I was an attempt at re-running my father's life, and had failed to live up to his expectations. And I must be punished. Or that's how it felt. My therapist proposed that somehow I had become invisible to my father.
After another year, I managed to scrape a grade 'E' pass in Biology, out of the three subjects taken, and then went on to polytechnic in London to take a diploma in Applied Biology. Which after a year, I had to leave, having failed in 50% of the subjects taken. Punished for not being the perfect son?
And then, when defeat was finally admitted and I slunk back into the parental home to find gainful employment, he still has to find an area of my life to take control of. "Your mother is worried..." would be the stock phrase. Privately, I felt my mother was more than able to express her own opinions. Slowly, I planned my escape. Information Technology would be that escape out of the house.
Don't get me wrong; I love the old bugger - I'd be a wreck if I had a phone call tomorrow saying he'd died. But I can't deny the hurt.