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Jun. 4th, 2013 10:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
promenyI have dinner with my father every Monday. Since I'm the only family member in town now, it is just me that visits him.
Last night was surprisingly pleasant, even though before I saw him I felt like screaming at him. I'm more understanding of him now, but I'm still more sympathetic to my dead mother. My sister is, too, which is odd because she had a relatively poor relationship with her.
I've still gotten pretty fucked up, though. I honestly believe that my mind is slowly dissolving; it is sort of hard for me to talk and I'm becoming a lot more socially anxious and awkward. But fortunately I haven't done anything seriously shit-headed yet; I'm just an oddball.
I really don't think that it was due to the "drugs", even though obviously they probably didn't help. I simply wasn't taking them that often, and they were relatively low-grade. Still, I've realized that there are doors in my mind that I would rather have closed, and there are things about me that I would rather not know about. Not to mention that in the past two weeks, my eyes felt like they were going to explode when I did them.
So as such, I'm scared now.
Despite all of this, I am not very depressed. I chalk up my issues right now to the fact that it will be a year since my mother died soon, and I can't really deal with how I coped with it and how the other members in my family are coping with it. What is left of the immediate family is quite fragmented right now.
I still have things to live for, and I have hope that things will get better. I started my book yesterday and it surprisingly shows some promise; I'm going to work on it every day, I hope.
Last night was surprisingly pleasant, even though before I saw him I felt like screaming at him. I'm more understanding of him now, but I'm still more sympathetic to my dead mother. My sister is, too, which is odd because she had a relatively poor relationship with her.
I've still gotten pretty fucked up, though. I honestly believe that my mind is slowly dissolving; it is sort of hard for me to talk and I'm becoming a lot more socially anxious and awkward. But fortunately I haven't done anything seriously shit-headed yet; I'm just an oddball.
I really don't think that it was due to the "drugs", even though obviously they probably didn't help. I simply wasn't taking them that often, and they were relatively low-grade. Still, I've realized that there are doors in my mind that I would rather have closed, and there are things about me that I would rather not know about. Not to mention that in the past two weeks, my eyes felt like they were going to explode when I did them.
So as such, I'm scared now.
Despite all of this, I am not very depressed. I chalk up my issues right now to the fact that it will be a year since my mother died soon, and I can't really deal with how I coped with it and how the other members in my family are coping with it. What is left of the immediate family is quite fragmented right now.
I still have things to live for, and I have hope that things will get better. I started my book yesterday and it surprisingly shows some promise; I'm going to work on it every day, I hope.
