I went back to the doctor today. I'm still depressed but at least I'm sleeping. The doc said I could either carry on with the sleeping tablets (that was his prefference) or increase my anti depressants. I decided to do both. I'm not coping well at all. The deadline the bank has set is looming. Friday is the last day we have to wrap this up or things will just get a lot worse. I know that on Friday the paperwork will not be signed; I'm tearful, anxious and very irritable. So it makes sense to cover all the bases.
For the first time in a long time I cried in front of the doctor today. I was quite distressed talking about my problems. Upsetting for my husband as well as for me. I realised how low I was feeling when I talked about the awful orphan to the doc. It all just poured out, all my emotions and hurt and tears. I wasn't expecting to be so emotional - it was like a wave, it just came over me; I couldn't stop myself.
I left the doctor in tears; I even spoke to the receptionist in tears. OMG. On the way home my husband tried to comfort me; he really wasn't expecting me to be so upset and be feeling so depressed. I've done quite a good job of putting on a brave front for the family.
After a couple of minutes of being in the car, I called my brother. I asked him to ask the awful orphan to sign the paperwork for the bank by Friday - I felt as if I was begging him but I didn't really care. I was desperate. I was in tears the whole time I was talking to him. I know it was upsetting for him too. I was off the phone in a minute or two. I haven't asked him for anything for over a year. I just said- please just ask him to sign. My brother said he would talk to the awful orphan and call me back. I told my brother he didn't need to call me back. Just ask for me, that's all.
Monday, 24 May 2010
Wednesday, 19 May 2010
Nightmares!
Can't get away from the awful orphan. He's there morning noon and night. I dream about him and various other members of my family. I talk/fight in my sleep! My poor husband gets a scare every time I shout/swear in my sleep. Then he has the job of waking me to stop the fight. There's no escape!!!
Monday, 17 May 2010
Final deadline.
31st May 2010 the final deadline we have been given by the bank!! They want us to sign on the dotted line or pay a penalty of £10,000. The penalty applies to both parties; not just my husband but the awful orpahn too. So the bank wins. Kerching - £20,000 for not a lot of work. Well that's my opinion anyway. We were ready, signed, sealed and delivered to do the bank's bidding many months ago. However, the awful orphan is not. Do I think he will sign by friday 28th may? NO. That's the short answer.
So how do I feel? The short answer - crap! It's just gone on and on and on and on. It's been a pain in the backside. It's been exhausting. It's been hard work. It's been a big fat bastard of a time! Yes I know - too much bad language. But it's a big fat understatement compared to how I feel.
The awful orphan will not sign on the dotted line by Friday 28th May because for him £10,000 is no big deal; £20,000 is no big deal to him either. Why? Because the awful orphan wants to sell his house. He wants a buyer in place. He doesn't want to take out a mortgage that will bind him to the house for any period of time. He doesn't want to pay a large penalty for early redemption of the mortgage for no reason. Why? Because he doesn't want to live there. He's got a ready made house, (that my husband and my son buitl), hasn't and won't pay for it and wants rid of it. He wants to walk away with a cool half a million pounds in profit; yes that's right, PROFIT. he's not silly - just a bastard. Oops there I go again.
I wish he would sign. I wish he was out of my life. But that's not how life goes. He's going to be a big part of my life, he's going to continue making my life a misery. Making my life hell. He enjoys it and has been fot the past 18 months. EIGTEEN BLOODY MONTHS. It's a hobby for him, helps pass the time of day, as he doesn't have a life. Small pleasures for small minded people.
He should go out more. See people. Get a normal hobby - horse riding, sheep shearing, pig farming. Anything. The world is his oyster. He could paint, draw, write - possibly. There's so much to do. He could read, do voluntary work, visit people in hospital. So many ideas in just a tick.
But no. He would rather make his Massi's (maternal aunt)life miserable.
The same Massi who looked after him when he came home from hospital at 10 days old because his Mum was suffering from post natal depression. Her 2nd episode ever. The first was when she was 18 years old doing her A levels. So I stayed with my sister, his mum, to lookafter her first born child. I was 4 and a half months pregnant myself with my 3rd child. I left my daughters at home with their Dad and their Dadi Ma (Paternal Grandmother). I fed him his milk, I changed his nappies, I bathed him, all while being sick all day long from my pregnancy. I had all day sickness, not just morning sickness. Wonderful.
I stayed for a week. We slept on a couch - the awful orphan and me. It was a tight squeeze, the baby (awful orphan), me and my tummy. But there was no bedroom for us. My sister had lodgers at the time, so we had to have the couch. I put him on the inside so he couldn't fall off the couch and I didn't sleep all night, incase I squashed him and suffocated him. Lovely - for him. My daughters were 3 and 5 years old at the time I left them to look after the baby. The baby's father was working and didn't take time off work. There was an elderly aunt on hand for a day or so but she was no help. I had to do things for her too. Although I saw my daughters every day, I did make a huge sacrifice for my sister. I didn't think twice about it. When I went home I carried on helping almost every day for many weeks. Fortunalely my sister got better quite quickly; within about 8 weeks. She returned to teaching 3 months after the awful orphan was born. Wonder why?
The same Massi who looked after his Father, his brother and him when his Mum died for 20 months. That's right 20 MONTHS. Not 20 days or 20 weeks but 20 months, which is about 600 days. That's the best part of 2 years. OMG! Cooked for him, washed his dishes, paid for all their food and liquid sustenance - alcholic and non alcholic. How stupid was I?
The same Massi who looked after him and his baby brother for 3 months when his Father died. It would have been years but the awful orphan decided he was going to throw his dummy out of the pram at the ripe old age of 26. He started gently in November 2008, a mere 5 or 6 weeks after his Father's death. We let it go. Then at the end of December there was no trying to kid ourselves any more - he was being seriously abusive, disrespectful and downright rude. Even then me and my husband went over a couple of days after the first big fight with an olive branch - the same as I would have done if I had fallen out with one of my own children and we put it down to grief; he was an orphan after all. We offered our olive branch on 1st January 2009 but after that everything went from bad to worse to absolute hell.
The same Massi whose pocket he lived in since he was a baby. The same Massi who celebrated his birthday when his Mum wasn't around to do it. The same Massi who bought his baby brother's birthday cakes too because he couldn't be asked from the age of 21 to do it himself. The same Massi that gave him hot roti (chappatti) off the gridle just the way his own Mum used to. And they say blood is thicker than water. What a load of rot that is.
So how do I feel? The short answer - crap! It's just gone on and on and on and on. It's been a pain in the backside. It's been exhausting. It's been hard work. It's been a big fat bastard of a time! Yes I know - too much bad language. But it's a big fat understatement compared to how I feel.
The awful orphan will not sign on the dotted line by Friday 28th May because for him £10,000 is no big deal; £20,000 is no big deal to him either. Why? Because the awful orphan wants to sell his house. He wants a buyer in place. He doesn't want to take out a mortgage that will bind him to the house for any period of time. He doesn't want to pay a large penalty for early redemption of the mortgage for no reason. Why? Because he doesn't want to live there. He's got a ready made house, (that my husband and my son buitl), hasn't and won't pay for it and wants rid of it. He wants to walk away with a cool half a million pounds in profit; yes that's right, PROFIT. he's not silly - just a bastard. Oops there I go again.
I wish he would sign. I wish he was out of my life. But that's not how life goes. He's going to be a big part of my life, he's going to continue making my life a misery. Making my life hell. He enjoys it and has been fot the past 18 months. EIGTEEN BLOODY MONTHS. It's a hobby for him, helps pass the time of day, as he doesn't have a life. Small pleasures for small minded people.
He should go out more. See people. Get a normal hobby - horse riding, sheep shearing, pig farming. Anything. The world is his oyster. He could paint, draw, write - possibly. There's so much to do. He could read, do voluntary work, visit people in hospital. So many ideas in just a tick.
But no. He would rather make his Massi's (maternal aunt)life miserable.
The same Massi who looked after him when he came home from hospital at 10 days old because his Mum was suffering from post natal depression. Her 2nd episode ever. The first was when she was 18 years old doing her A levels. So I stayed with my sister, his mum, to lookafter her first born child. I was 4 and a half months pregnant myself with my 3rd child. I left my daughters at home with their Dad and their Dadi Ma (Paternal Grandmother). I fed him his milk, I changed his nappies, I bathed him, all while being sick all day long from my pregnancy. I had all day sickness, not just morning sickness. Wonderful.
I stayed for a week. We slept on a couch - the awful orphan and me. It was a tight squeeze, the baby (awful orphan), me and my tummy. But there was no bedroom for us. My sister had lodgers at the time, so we had to have the couch. I put him on the inside so he couldn't fall off the couch and I didn't sleep all night, incase I squashed him and suffocated him. Lovely - for him. My daughters were 3 and 5 years old at the time I left them to look after the baby. The baby's father was working and didn't take time off work. There was an elderly aunt on hand for a day or so but she was no help. I had to do things for her too. Although I saw my daughters every day, I did make a huge sacrifice for my sister. I didn't think twice about it. When I went home I carried on helping almost every day for many weeks. Fortunalely my sister got better quite quickly; within about 8 weeks. She returned to teaching 3 months after the awful orphan was born. Wonder why?
The same Massi who looked after his Father, his brother and him when his Mum died for 20 months. That's right 20 MONTHS. Not 20 days or 20 weeks but 20 months, which is about 600 days. That's the best part of 2 years. OMG! Cooked for him, washed his dishes, paid for all their food and liquid sustenance - alcholic and non alcholic. How stupid was I?
The same Massi who looked after him and his baby brother for 3 months when his Father died. It would have been years but the awful orphan decided he was going to throw his dummy out of the pram at the ripe old age of 26. He started gently in November 2008, a mere 5 or 6 weeks after his Father's death. We let it go. Then at the end of December there was no trying to kid ourselves any more - he was being seriously abusive, disrespectful and downright rude. Even then me and my husband went over a couple of days after the first big fight with an olive branch - the same as I would have done if I had fallen out with one of my own children and we put it down to grief; he was an orphan after all. We offered our olive branch on 1st January 2009 but after that everything went from bad to worse to absolute hell.
The same Massi whose pocket he lived in since he was a baby. The same Massi who celebrated his birthday when his Mum wasn't around to do it. The same Massi who bought his baby brother's birthday cakes too because he couldn't be asked from the age of 21 to do it himself. The same Massi that gave him hot roti (chappatti) off the gridle just the way his own Mum used to. And they say blood is thicker than water. What a load of rot that is.
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