Therapy writing? 

Is that a thing? And if it is, is that what I’m doing? 

I’ve seen the term a few times,  particularly among other blogs and I do find that writing about all the frustration of the day helps my brain settled down. I don’t feel the same need do write in detail the good days and moments though, why is that?  I think because the good I can share openly with the people around me,  and I don’t have suppressed feelings the way I do when I’m feeling negative. And I do suppress them well until they  bubble to the surface as soon as I’m alone when things are nice and quiet and I’m trying to sleep. 

My mother might’ve stolen tonight,  not from me but I have no doubt the shit storm that comes from this will cover me.  You know the woman who doesn’t live here anymore, since a few days ago when I had to tell her she couldn’t and left her basically no choice but to live in the Ymca because her behaviour was ruining by life? That mother.  

Today was alright….. .  Better than alright,  it was good.   I hadn’t been able to go to my allotment like I had wanted because we had drizzle rain all day. Can’t paint a shed in that, but I watched TV shows and chatted with my girlfriend. Husband and daughter had gone to church and in the evening we all just chilled in the house. Nice,  boring (for you to read about) day! 

In comes mum. She called me at half eight,  I had spoken to her earlier and she said  that she “might pop round later”   which was fine, however when I had heard no more by six o’clock or so I assumed she changed her mind. She called at half eight. She was at her friends house round the corner from me. I’ve mentioned this friend before,  I call her J and she used to be a friend of mine and to a degree she is but we’re not close good friends whereas the two of them are,  J is the only friend mum had/has in this town really. 

Mum wanted to come round and pick up a coat if hers which was okay…. Annoying given the time but I was never going to say no.  I expected that she would even stay to have a brew, things didn’t get that far though. She came into the house  in the most irritable mood and every time I spoke to her she snapped a sarcastic,  snide,  twatty  response. She wasn’t here long in total and I had a word with her within about tree minutes about how she was speaking to me. She didn’t apologies, she never does.  In fact I think she just got a little  more shitty but then she was heading off again saying she had to pop back to see J before going back “home” 

The inflection of that was crystal clear. 

After she had gone I tried to go back to the game I was playing previously, star wars online… Finish the mission we were doing. The whole time I was trying to play though I felt like utter shit. Genuinely. I feel like such a cunt for throwing her out to live there,  she hates it I know she does. The whole time I was having an internal debate with myself. I didn’t dare voice that I felt that way and u wanted to honestly cry but I  just tried to carry on as everything was fine. 

I know why I did it and I know I had no choice… Read my blog for the past two weeks… You’ll see too,  But that logic doesn’t change the fact. I turned my mum away,  I made her homeless. 

My phone rang,  I’ve just checked the clock on my call logs. .. It was  22:38, J. I answered and without any preamble she told me she’s furious, that my mums stolen from her. I asked the sensible questions… How,  what and when? 

Weed,  a little tobacco. J had it in one  place,  went out to get her kids ball back from some bigger kids, came home and after mum left,  J realised it was gone. I told her to check around and  be sure but she was pretty certain. I also told her that there was rally nothing I could do,  I would ask my mum but that was the limit of my ability. And I did,  I called mum,  mum was adamant she had no idea what I was talking about, she had seen,  done, touched NOTHING. 

They are both holding those positions. J’s insisting my mother’s stolen from her. Mother is saying that when J finds these things,  by looking properly she demands an apology. 

I don’t think I believe  my own mother.  I know her well,  so very well.  I know how convincingly she can lie too. I am going to try not to get dragged into this,  but I will.  I just know I fucking will. 

There was good news after all of this.  Of course right after the call from J I  quit trying to play games, came out of  voice coms. My girlfriend came too to try and calm me down, after a chat,  rant,  vent she told me that she wants to come up at the  weekend. 
Yay.

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