Don't rain today, sky.
My lovely aunt and uncle are over from Texas at the moment. We saw them yesterday and today, and then they're off to see other family up North. I've only seen them twice in the last twenty years, but it's all very comfortable and nice with them. I'm hoping to take them up to Clifton to see the gorge and the suspension bridge and the observatory, then to cabot tower to see the squirrels and then to walk along the harbour side. Except it's meant to rain today. Nooo!!!! I don't know what to do that's indoors. Bollocks.
It's strange having then here, my parents and brother an I revert to 'happy families'. Even dad has been talkative, hard for him as (I'm convinced) he's autistic. We are all so good at denial, honestly we could bottle it and sell it.
It makes it hard though. Cuz it's summer (just about still) and muggy right now I'm wearing short sleeve tops cuz I just forget about my arm most of the time now. Three years ago I 'revealed' my arm to mum for the first time since I was 12 (sat in the train station I took off my cardigan, saw her look and double take, then carried on the conversation as though nothing was there. Denial is a great thing. Thank god. I did not and do not want to have that conversation with her.). But my aunty Lin is so loving and caring that I'm sure she'll say something if she notices.
And so it's the old dilemma. Do I make myself uncomfortable and keep them hidden? Do I pretend like they're not there and ignore it when people look? Or do I take on my old subconscious posturing (which I do to some extent naturally anyway) and keep my forearm angled in, my hair covering my shoulder; if I'm too close to someone who I don't want to notice cross my arms and cover my shoulder with a hand...)
Bugger it. A tiny tiny part of me wants them to see. Only tiny. An even tinier part of me wants to blow the whole charade up. Say 'you have no fucking idea what this family is all about.' Have a hand laid on mine and say 'yes, I know your mother was shit, but she does love you and can't help it.'
But the biggest part of me wants to (and always does) preserve this odd little dynamic we have going on between the three of us. I realised years ago the only way I was going to have a relationship with my parents was is I forgot about all the shit that happened, forgot that they should have protected me and didn't, forgot that when everything came out they blamed me to save themselves the guilt, denied me the right to get any kind of justice, put other people at risk by allowing him to go free, and now deny the whole thing. They're my parents and I love them, and they love me. So I have to forget it. But it festers sometimes, especially now that it's all going on. I still haven't told dad, he would go mental. Mum doesn't want to know. I tried to talk to her about the police. She changed the subject pretty quick.
Just heard dad's car pull up outside. Gotta go.
It's strange having then here, my parents and brother an I revert to 'happy families'. Even dad has been talkative, hard for him as (I'm convinced) he's autistic. We are all so good at denial, honestly we could bottle it and sell it.
It makes it hard though. Cuz it's summer (just about still) and muggy right now I'm wearing short sleeve tops cuz I just forget about my arm most of the time now. Three years ago I 'revealed' my arm to mum for the first time since I was 12 (sat in the train station I took off my cardigan, saw her look and double take, then carried on the conversation as though nothing was there. Denial is a great thing. Thank god. I did not and do not want to have that conversation with her.). But my aunty Lin is so loving and caring that I'm sure she'll say something if she notices.
And so it's the old dilemma. Do I make myself uncomfortable and keep them hidden? Do I pretend like they're not there and ignore it when people look? Or do I take on my old subconscious posturing (which I do to some extent naturally anyway) and keep my forearm angled in, my hair covering my shoulder; if I'm too close to someone who I don't want to notice cross my arms and cover my shoulder with a hand...)
Bugger it. A tiny tiny part of me wants them to see. Only tiny. An even tinier part of me wants to blow the whole charade up. Say 'you have no fucking idea what this family is all about.' Have a hand laid on mine and say 'yes, I know your mother was shit, but she does love you and can't help it.'
But the biggest part of me wants to (and always does) preserve this odd little dynamic we have going on between the three of us. I realised years ago the only way I was going to have a relationship with my parents was is I forgot about all the shit that happened, forgot that they should have protected me and didn't, forgot that when everything came out they blamed me to save themselves the guilt, denied me the right to get any kind of justice, put other people at risk by allowing him to go free, and now deny the whole thing. They're my parents and I love them, and they love me. So I have to forget it. But it festers sometimes, especially now that it's all going on. I still haven't told dad, he would go mental. Mum doesn't want to know. I tried to talk to her about the police. She changed the subject pretty quick.
Just heard dad's car pull up outside. Gotta go.