Why are we doing...

God dammit, what is it that you want? Realistically?


Me and mum walked along a beach we once knew, once loved in silence. The wind blew a cool breeze that made it difficult to hear the sounds of the seagulls and the waves crashing along the pebbled shores. I looked at her tread quickly but carefully over the plooms of seaweed and grasses, I just couldn't think of what to say to her. Once upon a time, I would have been eager to tell her all things on my mind, however daft, silly or boring. I was so conscious of every word, I was scared to upset her or annoy her, as recently that's all my words seem to do. A drunk man calls at me, I smile it off and we continue. Later she calls me an embarrassment.


When I'm home I sit uncomfortably, trying to take in what they're both saying to me, but as guilty as I feel and as interested as I try to look, I find it so boring. I know that if they were to know that, they'd be so upset. But it seems every time I venture home I upset the dynamic of the home environment, so much so that everyone is on edge and everyone doesn't know what to do with themselves. It's tough because I'm not asking for anything more than what they do naturally on a typical Saturday. I know it's because they care, but it's hard.

They ask about me but it's fleeting and most of the time it gets the reaction of scorn. I try and keep the mood light but then I realise I've nothing to say. The words fall from my mouth, mostly lies about silly things. I realise I shouldn't have come back and it was probably better to be alone in the big city.

'how many others are you stringing along? If you're not careful you're in danger of becoming seriously unstuck. What are you even doing in London? Do you have any idea how this makes me feel? Probably not' mum told me as we walked passed our old house. I looked in through the windows and saw my teenage self looking back at me, we shared a moment of 'it's always like this' and I decided to look away. I couldn't find the words, like usual, in moments of adrenalin pumping worry and frustration. I kept telling myself she didn't mean it, but it didn't stop it from hurting.


It's difficult having a mother who's in constant battle of mental illness, who's struggling with the weight of her families web of mental illnesses. She took a couple of months off her antidepressants but has since decided to go back on them again. I guess it's for the best, but I liked that before she thought she was strong enough to face life on her own without them. She didn't look at me when she told me, she also explained that she didn't know why she told me. But it was a good thing she did. I worry about her. I realise she's at a loss without someone to care for, and the guilt doesn't leave my shoulders at all when I think of how me and Ed flew the nest as soon as we could. She doesn't mean it, we love her unconditionally. But how can one explain to someone so unstable how hard it is to communicate how one would like? The way she's engineered her life and their habits are set in such a way that if anything attempts to reshuffle things, it's simply an ordeal. I want to help her but I don't know how. I want to share my life with her but I don't know how.


And then, it all falls on my dad. When he asks me how I am and how things are, I can't help but tell him the truth about mum and how things seem to be emotional and up in the air. He feels bad telling me his thoughts on the matter, which are fair and justified, he could be cruel but he never is. He's just honest, shares his experiences. He tells me it's not my fault but I do somewhat feel a little to blame. Maybe she would be happier if I lived closer to home, lived a more settled life. The thing is, I didn't plan things this way. Sometimes I do things and think to myself 'this will probably bite me in the arse later' but when it comes to big, life altering decisions I do my best and things haven't gone to plan. I don't feel 100% myself, I get these strong pangs of anxiety and fear in the pit of my belly every day but I battle on through as I keep telling myself that I am strong. Really, I wish I could share these doubts for just the listening alone but without the 'advise' and 'life lessons' that come with it. It's just pressure all the while.

Maybe this is why people travel. Go off and see the world, its all starting to become tempting me now, where I didn't see it before. Maybe this is why I can't seem to settle, can't seem to make up my mind, can't find the right guy, right job, right house. I float, inbetween it all and try and hold onto anything or anyone that looks as though they'll help propel me into a brighter future. But I just end on gripping too tightly.

I've distance again in a place where I don't want distance. I don't think we cope well with it. I never thought I was one to be bothered by it but it turns out I am, very much. I commit so much trust and wouldn't expect it to be discarded, but I do feel so lonely when things have gone quiet. I hate this because, it's not his fault, he's allowed to do his own thing. I just hate how happy it makes me when I see a little flash come up on my screen, how my day can be great or shite purely from the amount of effort he puts in his end. Because I will ALWAYS give 110% but I don't think he does too. It always seems to be like this. And the times where I didn't so much, I was with another guy or with the family, he seemed to be trying harder. Typical.


So, what now? It's Monday and I already feel lost.


This week should hopefully be good though, I just hope I can power through. The lady who drives me crazy in the office is away the rest of this week thank fuck so it should be calm here. My brother is staying at mine until Friday and then Friday evening I'm going to Canterbury again. I am excited about this already and also really nervous, I just hate the lead up because I worry so much something will step in the way and ruin it all. Some reason will crop up to try and stop me from going or him as available to see me, but I hate that suddenly in just over a month, my happiness is now dependant on the reactions of someone else. When did this happen? Do I really like him as much as I even think I do? Is it the attention? Am I just disappointed things didn't work out with me and Joe? With anyone?