Life on the High Street

I want to talk to Tess, see if she wants one, and figure out how to do it with the help of my amazingly artistic friend. I’m going to do a portrait myself as well.

I’m feeling so emotional, and there are so many unresolved conflicts within me. I just don’t feel right at all.

How come the two people I’ve lost have been people I feel guilty for mourning?

Why do I have such a guilt problem?

I don’t know how to start this post, so I’ll just get straight to it. My grandmother died today, aged 85, having struggled with Alzheimer’s for over 15 years.

I don’t really know how to feel, but I have finally felt an outpouring of regret that has built up over a lifetime, and only evolved as I grew older. We moved to Wales 15 years ago, and I have very few memories from before, so most of my memories of my grandmother are from Wales, when she had already started having problems with Alzheimer’s. Nanna spent the last portion of her life in hospitals and a home, over half of but less than a decade. The last couple of years in the house was tough, but I never expected her to last this long and get so ill once she moved out.

Because she was ill, she would get confused and say childish things sometimes. That coupled with the fact that I was a child that had discipline issues and just didn’t give a fuck about anyone really. (I really fucking hate myself, pre-stepdad, aka pre-secondary school.) Anyway, our arguments used to escalate to stupid points and therefore we didn’t get on. There was also an incident when my grandad was chasing me, tripped and cracked his head open and when Nanna saw all the blood she wailed and said some really hurtful things about it being my fault and more.

But this is what kills me, is that as a child, I thought she was horrible. As I’ve grown older, I’ve realised how petulant I truly was. I’m 21, and have struggled my whole life with general mental health issues, and over the last few years struggled with a few severe. I’ve also had a rather turbulent relationship and problems with my family and just generally grown older... which is what makes me see Nanna in a different light.

She was ill, she wasn’t really herself. She loved me too. Maybe people were right and I did look like her sister, maybe that’s why she would be snappy with me and so childish. But she would always ask us if we wanted a crust, or milkshake... and when she was getting really ill she started bobbing along to Slipknot with me!!! And sometimes, because she was ill, she would fuck up. Like start thinking the conversation was one that we had had previously, or making the milkshake wrong, and I would silently get really angry at her. She was fucking ill, and I hated her for it! How disgusting was that?

My family used to argue with me about my accusations she and I didn’t get on. They all said it was me and to this day I still don’t believe that’s true. That just fueled arguments that cemented my views, but now she’s gone, I realise how exaggerated and clouded they had become.

I’m going to the funeral, and I feel like I deserve to with this new found realisation. I want to do something nice for her.

I saw three mallards flying over the river when I watched the eclipse this morning. Due to unforeseen circumstances, I ended up smoking alone in a graveyard for two hours watching the sun, but the view was serene. The mallard turned my stomach, because Nanna and Grandpa had three ceramic ones on the wall above where she and Grandpa always used to sit.

Last year I posted that 2014 would be the year I could feel again. Well, be careful what you wish for.

I have succumbed to the black hole of never feeling good enough, and whilst I'm not new to this, I didn't expect it to last so ferociously for such a long time. I've had to seek help, and my studies were disrupted.

I want to get back on the horse though, I really do. I've been in denial a long time, but I need to start owning it. I keep trying to return to blogging, but this time is different.

When I write, I feel more rational. I can see the words I'm using, and I can fix that. It really helped me as a teen.

But where do you write when you have no one to write to? And of course, I do have friend et cetra, but you don't want to be constanly bumming them out. That's why I'm going to write here, to chronicle all my ups and downs, and be able to see in a somewhat logical way, how it's all impacting my weeks down the line.

20 year old Anthropology student. I rarely post pictures of myself but instead post about the things that make my life worthwhile - mwynhau! ♥

I just wish I didn't have to think of something to make to eat, but I suppose once I have then I can go back to watching videos.