The Forestry Of My Mind

Ok, I appear to be suffering from a bizarre form of 'Post-Traumatic Blog Syndrome'.

It's taken me eight months to finally break the cold, thick layer of ice that had formed over my pool of creativity, and now I find myself consumed with guilt because of my neglectful behaviour to this particular scribbling nook. So, the time has come for a very late New Years Resolution...let's call it the April Endeavour, because that sounds a hell of a lot snappier.

I, Kathy, shall hereby vow to write my poorly constructed and ill informed rants against the evils and idiocies of society, as well as any completely nonsensical ramblings about whatever fell out of my head on the day of writing, as often as is humanly possible given the sudden increase in my social life.

If any of you read this you'll just have to imagine some inspiring music playing over the above segment, because technology isn't yet that genius.
Really, I didn't stop because I didn't have anything to say. The day I don't ever have anything to say is the die and even then I'm not so sure. I like the think that whenever I do snuff it I'll come back to explicitly haunt the people who've really pissed me off over the years. Or, more realistically, the people who piss me off from beyond the grave.
For example, if I were to pass someone littering in the street, I would appear to them in all my ghostly regalia, and whisper in my spookiest of voices, "I suggest that, if you don't want to see my face every time you're on the John or about to get lucky, you pick that up."

By cracky, pretty sure that'd do it. But I digress, what I mean is that I've had plenty of things to say about plenty of things, but I haven't really had the means to express them properly. I'd go to the keyboard, and no words would come. It wasn't so much writer's block as writers barrier. Things wanted to get through but there was something stopping it. I think it's gone now. Hopefully it won't come back for a while. Hopefully.

So I apologise again, and with luck there won't be be any more unfeasibly long absences.

Wow, it's been a while.

A lot of things have happened in the last few months, finally getting to University probably being one of the most significant. But there are other things. Things I don't really care to think about too much for a lot of reasons...

But this is it.

December 27th: My grandad passed away after a long period of heart problems and dementia. He died on my parents wedding anniversary, in hospital, alone. I didn't get to see him before he died, but I could've done a week before. Instead I decided to stay at home. Why? Because my boyfriend was visiting. I lost the opportunity to see me beloved grandfather for the last time because I wanted the day with my boyfriend. Even now I still feel ashamed at my selfishness. It kills me to think that the last contact I ever had with him was a five minute phone conversation, where he could barely talk because he was so exhausted from getting to the phone in the first place.

What's worst of all is that he had to die in hospital, the place he hated so much. For months leading up to his death he'd been in and out of hospitals and the care home, because my poor nana was too ill to take care of herself let alone her husband. And through all that time he kept saying, 'If I could have just one thing it would be to go back home again, but I know I can't. I know your nana can't cope.' He kept forgetting that he could hardly walk anymore, that he could hardly breathe. He was certain he was getting better, when every day he was getting worse.
The night before he died, nana had a dream when he came to her and said 'I'm sorry, Joan, I can't go on anymore.' She was in hospital too, with pnuemonia on the heart, but she was in a different place. My grandparents were miles away from each other, and they didn't even get to say goodbye.
It's been so hard seeing him go. There was a little part of me inside that believed he was never going to die; that he'd be here forever. I still miss him, and I think about him every day. We were very close, and it really does break my heart I didn't get the chance to tell him how much I loved him in person.

So I suppose that was really one of the main reasons I haven't written here in such a long time. For a while I lost my words. I think I may have found them again finally.

Recently however, my father has been made unemployed, and he's struggling now to find work. What a terrible time to find yourself in that position, in the middle of a recession where jos are being cut left right and centre. Now someone like my dad, who is immensely clever and very experienced in his field of work, can't find a job. What on earth does this say about our situation? What's it going to be like in a few years time when I leave university? All I can say is I really feel for anyone entering the job market now. It'sa very confusing time for all concerned.
So basically, the atmosphere in the house is very changeable. Since I came home for Easter there's a part of me that's been wishing I was somewhere else, just because there's this underlyin gloominess that just won't lift. My mother doesn't work, and she's been consistently flitting between depressed or panicky. She keeps talking about selling the house or me leaving University, which has truly worried me. I don't know what to say to her, though, other than, 'It'll be alright. He always gets a job one way or another.'
This sentiment simply isn't ringing true anymore because he's never been unemployed during a financial crisis of this scale. I've been doing my very best to maintain a certain level of positivity but my own moods can be very dependent on those of others. I'm like a sponge, soaking up the surrounding feeling until I'm swollen and dull with it. So my cheeriness has dwindled and I'm back to my usual depressive self, compulsively writing my worries in a black book late at night and praying to whatever's up there that it'll come right in the end. But my hope is rapidly running dry and wearing thin.

Very soon, it's going to break.