Saturday

Note #160 // Stream Of Consciousness


Blogging always transforms into what I need it to be most. A creative outlet, the push to get out more, a reason to dress up, the opportunity to mark a memory, a success, a failure or a feeling. And right now, I need it to be an escape from real life. 

I sit here and post about life, things I've done, good memories. It's nice to do that as it gives me the chance to focus on being happy. Home life isn't the happiest now. I live with my nan, and she isn't well. While physically, she's not doing too badly, it's her mental health that most worries, and yes, frustrates me. 

She's such a cheery person (or very good at putting on a front, at least). She's so caring to all those around her, but there is this uncomfortable patch of dark in her life. She's determined that someone (who this someone is, I don't know) is up to something untoward where she's concerned. She thinks people come into the house and move things. That someone listens to her phone conversations, and most recently, that she can't go into the kitchen because of her thoughts. I come home to her having half of the kitchen in the living room, including the kettle. It's getting to a point where I have to check if she's eaten because she point blank refuses to go in there if she doesn't have to. Even right now, I've cooked dinner, but I doubt she's gone in there, even to serve herself. 

Now, of course, I don't mind cooking and washing dishes and making tea on tap, but what I struggle with is that it isn't because she can't, but because she won't. You may say, why haven't you taken her to a doctor, or is it the beginnings of dementia? Firstly, you try telling a stubborn Caribbean patriarch that you think she needs medical help relating to her mental health, and see how far you get. Secondly, none of us think it's dementia. It's been like this for years, though the kitchen thing is a recent development. She's a level-headed, faithful woman that has all her faculties about her. She gets about, she does her own banking, she cooks; she travels and she socialises. It's just this one thing that she won't give up on. I live in the house, so how would I not know if anything untoward was going on? We've had the locks changed umpteen times, so how is someone still getting in, if they ever were? Safe to say, life's a struggle right now.

It's awful seeing her like this, going further and further into herself and living in such a negative atmosphere. And what worries me most is that I'm moving out this year. Yes, there are other family members around, but no one is going to be there 24/7 when she gets the TV stuck on the Virgin Media previews channel or a light bulb goes or to put the bins out. Who will be there to make sure she eats? My nan is a martyr. She won't actually pipe up when she needs something, as she thinks she's being a burden. Even if they offer help. 

So when you see my more cheery posts on here or me tweeting crap on twitter, I'm not brushing things under the carpet, I am genuinely happy in the other aspects of life. But this is most certainly my happy place right now. A coping mechanism of sorts. And that's just what I need this blog to be right now.

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