Low and behold things are killing me.


My family is on the verge of fracture, it’s a sad state of affairs, this Blog will more than likely be depressing, so if you’re in a good mood and want to keep it that way I would suggest you come back when you’re already in a lousy dark mood, or just don’t read it at all, that way I won’t be responsible for bringing you down. See how fucking considerate I am?

Anyway, They’re divorcing apparently, I say apparently because they’ve been attempting to figure out just how to go about it for some time now, still living under the same roof, quite a bizarre living arrangement… An acrid taste of bitterness surrounds the pair of them the closer their proximity to each other, you can feel it, like waves of unspoken, unheard of anger and disappointment, they co-exist peacefully while everyday life is smooth, but as soon as a bump comes along the tensions resurface and my mother is telling my father and us (My brothers and I) that she’s on the phone to a lawyer to start the process, this invariably comes to nothing after a few days of heightened tension between them..my mother lacks the strength to leave my father I think, too afraid… years of dependence on him has cemented a sort of warped symbiotic relationship in which she needs and resents him in equal measure.

The problem I have with the whole thing is that they just can’t seem to make a break, even though it’s painfully obvious that they’re both suffocating in the coffin that their marriage has become, I have to contend with the pair of them approaching me and in very subtle and deceptive ways, seeking my support against the other. Oh how I wish I wish upon a star they would leave me out of the whole tangled mess, being around this constant state of despairing flux without getting sucked into it requires a tremendous amount of energy. I can’t possibly take a side, either of which leaves me hurting and alienating the other… The only choice I have is to stay out of it, even if it means both of them resenting me for it short term. It would be easy to hate them both, but I found in the past that to hold onto anger is to ferment bitterness and that rots you from the inside out, they both made plenty of mistakes down the years, failing to look at themselves and their actions honestly, they only reserve those particular goggles of truth for the other in the marriage, but I can hardly turn around and say that to the pair of them, both unwilling to leave their drowning embrace of blame, I don’t know every facet of their ruinous marriage story they would say, and they would be right. Nothing to be done it seems, I must endure.

My oldest brother is another story, during his late teens he developed Schizophrenia, it completely devastated his life, gone was the brother I knew of old, outgoing… Happy…  At ease with himself, all replaced by irrational and terrifying fears that rule his life. Who… Without medication that makes him feel emotionally numb, becomes so anxious and convinced of an unseen pending doom that he literally just shuts down, all because some wiring in the brain is slightly off. I’m not sure we ever really recovered fully from that, that was the knockout punch that finished my staggering family off and we’ve been falling to the canvas ever since. I think for a long time I was convinced what happened to my brother would happen to me, that I would go crazy or was going crazy, I distanced myself from him in many ways because of it, he reminded me of one of my deepest fears. Many years ago when I used to visit him at the time he was first diagnosed in hospital it used to fill me with dread, not the going to see him part, but the hospital itself, it was so run down and monochrome and all the patients, from the young to the very old, all just seemed to stand and stare or stagger down lonely echoed halls in those flip floppy slippers in silence. I used to wonder why no one said anything, I didn’t know at the time they were all ultra heavily medicated or trapped inside their skulls unable to escape back to the world around them. The Atmosphere in psych hospitals is uniquely morbid, more so than a morgue, which I’ve also had the displeasure of being in, people in the morgue may be dead… yes, but there is a finality to it, an end, with madness there is no such luxury, only a life and a world that offers constant confusion, a horrible isolation of mind that no one should have to go through, people joke and laugh about being insane… But if you saw it take someone you loved, it starts to lose its appeal.

For all that my brother has to endure, he is the kindest soul I’ve ever known, there is no badness in him… None whatsoever, a purity of character reserved for those who must live life with the awful affliction of mental dispair, it breeds a remarkably unique empathy, at least it has in my brother, I really must try harder to be a better brother to him, at least I know the fear that kept me distant before, I have the luxury my brother does not have of choosing not to give in to despair. My father is planning on building a house and wants to put it in my name to comply with Meath planning permission, I told him to put it in my brothers name, that way he will always have a roof over his head, always have a home, the torch of responsibility for taking care of him will one day pass to me, but like that fabulously catchy song goes, he ain’t heavy, he’s my brother.

So yes, the sea of life is rough and I’m the night watchman on the Titanic, but you can’t let the dark times get to you, not as long as you can dream, Cheshire cat grin as you stare down the iceberg. It won’t always be like this. I must travel, I’ve put it off in one form or another for a few years now, my own impulsiveness the lead suspect in that particular case, but my feet are itchy and only the horizon can scratch them, so loose plans shall be made! (Yet again..)

Life really is a roller coaster, you wait in line for what seems like an eternity only to ripped off for a ride on rails that has you laughing at the ups, screaming at the downs and by the time you reach the end there’s a good chance you’re covered in vomit…

Shit… Ruined my ending.

Fuck it.

PS: To the Architects of the Lisbon treaty, go away, shoo, fuck off, you failed.

  1. No trackbacks yet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s