Just at the moment, it feels like the fall of the House of Atreus. We all seem to be set against each other. Mark's father Edward died on Thursday - and although this was in a sense good news, we both went into shock. I did some hugging, arm around the shoulder stuff, but M didn't seem very responsive. He says he feels awful how un-upset he is.
For various reasons I have sort of got a large part of the funeral arranging gig... this feels very stressful, I have that same slightly spaced out feeling I had when my mother died, dashing around the place, trying to organise things, and do the things I have committed myself to as well (Festival Club, the shop gig, and an editorial meeting tomorrow). Plus I have foreign students to feed - and no flexibility about times - have to adhere to their timetable! Fortunately, perhaps, my afternoon drink with Tara today was postponed... in its place I had an appalling row with Ned. I gave him the back of my hand, so he leapt up punched and kicked me. I am too shocked, and want to bury the whole thing, but frankly, I feel that things have gone too far. I told him I wanted him out of the house - this was after he'd started throwing glass jars at us. He said a lot of really unpleasant things: "nasty old woman!" was the least of them, basically his beef was that he had nothing to be grateful to us for (I wasn't trying to make him grateful). It's infuriating, he argues so illogically, it is horribly reminiscent of my brother Tom.
The major problem is that most people in this household have no sense of urgency or priorities, this drives me mad, and I am becoming more and more annoyed by it, because it never gets any better, and everything falls apart. Mark has been trained to some of these a bit, and is a lot better since we first met, Ned is, unsurprisingly, all about himself... he has no sense that the rest of us may be under pressure of any kind. Yes, M's lost his father, but I've also lost someone I loved, I was tremendously fond of Ed, and got on very well with him, I remember him quizzing me when I first met about how I'd felt when I first met Mark. I discovered last night that meeting Stella he had had one of those "I'm going to marry her" type coups de foudre, although knowing what I now now about Ed, I don't suppose marriage was the first thing on his mind. His quizzing of me was perhaps to ascertain whether I'd have that same recognition.... no, I hadn't.sadly. Mark said "it took us a while to ...." to what? to know? to understand? to recognise... Yes, but I never noticed all the other things that I should have noticed. Then again, Ed's marriage to Stella was not perhaps as promising as that first fine careless rapture... so who knows which is better?
I understand now that my being laidback (or lazy if you prefer) is hopeless in our relationship, because M just does likewise.... so I have to get unnaturally over organised and bossy to make anything happen. And I hate myself when I behave like that. I was trying to organise Ned into doing the paid work he is contracted to do for Clive this week, because he is just procrastinating at present. I am, like many parents, hoping my children will make good my deficiencies - but they aren't. Surprise, surprise! This really is a hopeless marriage in many ways, since I am always being forced into being who I am not - and the "real" me is not given much scope. Oh, perhaps that's not true.
The weird thing is that I am being given responsibilities by M's family, while he's blithely coasting along like the family idiot - having to be reminded that it might be an idea to speak to his mother (hello! your father's died, she might want to hear from you, rather than me!). He has a bad cold, and he is struggling to finish some work, so it seems as if he has no room to cope with anything else. I suppose that is how one gets - just full up of coping - I didn't have room to cope with Ned's dilatoriness today or his self-centredness. The thing that upsets him most is saying how I long for him to leave home. I don't say it to upset him - but I find having an under-employed, under-productive, critical presence loafing around the house in his dressing gown for large parts of the day, with or without girlf in tow, rather difficult. They hang out in the kitchen a lot - it interferes with my operations in there.
Whether Edward's death and the frosk im pisk for Ned are connected, I leave it to the analysts to decide. Slightly more worryingly, I have to meet Finn's "counsellor" on Tuesday, together with Mark to discuss "family dynamics" i.e. what it is we are doing that is fucking up Finn. I wonder if I have made any steps beyond the sort of parent child relationships that existed in my family with my parents. I am, despite having sacrificed myself financially (no, I never saw it like that) to stay at home with them, apparently a totally useless mother, perceived as loving by Finn (but quite unable to influence him) and as basically horrible by Ned, and as "lazy" by both of them. I cannot imagine what can put this right - short of a large lottery win, domestic staff and some intensive therapy, a new house, a separate establishment and a few other fairy sandcastles in the air....
There is a big part of me that doesn't want to put in the work with Ned and Mark - just to run away and say "A plague on both your houses!" and give up the struggle because we are so temperamentally different it hardly seems worthwhile trying to sort things out any more. Yes, for years I have accepted their behaviour etc, but now I wonder if I should, for my own sake and sanity. Finn is a different kettle of fish - but he's been the great white hope of the House of Samuel for years, and our hope is looking a bit wobbly at present.
Edward's death is a strange echo of Paul C's death last month - he died on a Thursday too. That made me (briefly) appreciate life and freedom. Edward's death somehow amplifies this, because he died the old person's death - which one expects (I do not say "hopes" for) oneself. I do not yet feel like an "old woman" pace Ned, but I am aware that I will be sooner or later. I wish to have a new lease of life before I get to that stage. Losing weight is beginning to do that, making me much much healthier, faster, etc. I have definitely "speeded up" in the last few months, but I still have long days of apathy. I hoped writing would eventually purchase me greater freedom of movement, but it is not doing so yet. In my worse moments, and they are increasingly common, and this is one of them, I fear it will never happen. I "know" something will happen. Perhaps today was it?
I chose the title before I started to write: when I look at the contents it looks as if I am describing the death of the family - but perhaps that is a little melodramatic and we still going to jog along somehow.
For various reasons I have sort of got a large part of the funeral arranging gig... this feels very stressful, I have that same slightly spaced out feeling I had when my mother died, dashing around the place, trying to organise things, and do the things I have committed myself to as well (Festival Club, the shop gig, and an editorial meeting tomorrow). Plus I have foreign students to feed - and no flexibility about times - have to adhere to their timetable! Fortunately, perhaps, my afternoon drink with Tara today was postponed... in its place I had an appalling row with Ned. I gave him the back of my hand, so he leapt up punched and kicked me. I am too shocked, and want to bury the whole thing, but frankly, I feel that things have gone too far. I told him I wanted him out of the house - this was after he'd started throwing glass jars at us. He said a lot of really unpleasant things: "nasty old woman!" was the least of them, basically his beef was that he had nothing to be grateful to us for (I wasn't trying to make him grateful). It's infuriating, he argues so illogically, it is horribly reminiscent of my brother Tom.
The major problem is that most people in this household have no sense of urgency or priorities, this drives me mad, and I am becoming more and more annoyed by it, because it never gets any better, and everything falls apart. Mark has been trained to some of these a bit, and is a lot better since we first met, Ned is, unsurprisingly, all about himself... he has no sense that the rest of us may be under pressure of any kind. Yes, M's lost his father, but I've also lost someone I loved, I was tremendously fond of Ed, and got on very well with him, I remember him quizzing me when I first met about how I'd felt when I first met Mark. I discovered last night that meeting Stella he had had one of those "I'm going to marry her" type coups de foudre, although knowing what I now now about Ed, I don't suppose marriage was the first thing on his mind. His quizzing of me was perhaps to ascertain whether I'd have that same recognition.... no, I hadn't.sadly. Mark said "it took us a while to ...." to what? to know? to understand? to recognise... Yes, but I never noticed all the other things that I should have noticed. Then again, Ed's marriage to Stella was not perhaps as promising as that first fine careless rapture... so who knows which is better?
I understand now that my being laidback (or lazy if you prefer) is hopeless in our relationship, because M just does likewise.... so I have to get unnaturally over organised and bossy to make anything happen. And I hate myself when I behave like that. I was trying to organise Ned into doing the paid work he is contracted to do for Clive this week, because he is just procrastinating at present. I am, like many parents, hoping my children will make good my deficiencies - but they aren't. Surprise, surprise! This really is a hopeless marriage in many ways, since I am always being forced into being who I am not - and the "real" me is not given much scope. Oh, perhaps that's not true.
The weird thing is that I am being given responsibilities by M's family, while he's blithely coasting along like the family idiot - having to be reminded that it might be an idea to speak to his mother (hello! your father's died, she might want to hear from you, rather than me!). He has a bad cold, and he is struggling to finish some work, so it seems as if he has no room to cope with anything else. I suppose that is how one gets - just full up of coping - I didn't have room to cope with Ned's dilatoriness today or his self-centredness. The thing that upsets him most is saying how I long for him to leave home. I don't say it to upset him - but I find having an under-employed, under-productive, critical presence loafing around the house in his dressing gown for large parts of the day, with or without girlf in tow, rather difficult. They hang out in the kitchen a lot - it interferes with my operations in there.
Whether Edward's death and the frosk im pisk for Ned are connected, I leave it to the analysts to decide. Slightly more worryingly, I have to meet Finn's "counsellor" on Tuesday, together with Mark to discuss "family dynamics" i.e. what it is we are doing that is fucking up Finn. I wonder if I have made any steps beyond the sort of parent child relationships that existed in my family with my parents. I am, despite having sacrificed myself financially (no, I never saw it like that) to stay at home with them, apparently a totally useless mother, perceived as loving by Finn (but quite unable to influence him) and as basically horrible by Ned, and as "lazy" by both of them. I cannot imagine what can put this right - short of a large lottery win, domestic staff and some intensive therapy, a new house, a separate establishment and a few other fairy sandcastles in the air....
There is a big part of me that doesn't want to put in the work with Ned and Mark - just to run away and say "A plague on both your houses!" and give up the struggle because we are so temperamentally different it hardly seems worthwhile trying to sort things out any more. Yes, for years I have accepted their behaviour etc, but now I wonder if I should, for my own sake and sanity. Finn is a different kettle of fish - but he's been the great white hope of the House of Samuel for years, and our hope is looking a bit wobbly at present.
Edward's death is a strange echo of Paul C's death last month - he died on a Thursday too. That made me (briefly) appreciate life and freedom. Edward's death somehow amplifies this, because he died the old person's death - which one expects (I do not say "hopes" for) oneself. I do not yet feel like an "old woman" pace Ned, but I am aware that I will be sooner or later. I wish to have a new lease of life before I get to that stage. Losing weight is beginning to do that, making me much much healthier, faster, etc. I have definitely "speeded up" in the last few months, but I still have long days of apathy. I hoped writing would eventually purchase me greater freedom of movement, but it is not doing so yet. In my worse moments, and they are increasingly common, and this is one of them, I fear it will never happen. I "know" something will happen. Perhaps today was it?
I chose the title before I started to write: when I look at the contents it looks as if I am describing the death of the family - but perhaps that is a little melodramatic and we still going to jog along somehow.
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