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Oh, family.
I've had a surprisingly family-themed weekend.
Yesterday I picked up my brother at this town's train station to hang out and have "a coffee or something", which in my case turned out to be iced chocolate. It went really well and I definitely want to do it again, not just with him but also with M when she returns from Hungary.
The one part that left a bit of a bad taste in my mouth was when he asked me why exactly I'm in hospital and I just mumbled something about panic attacks. I didn't know what to say at all. This is not a topic I can speak freely about with a 15-year-old ... or anyone in the family, really. :/
Then today, my mother came to visit. We went into town as well, by car, and ended up at a different ice cream place. It was mostly pleasant, too. But - with my mother there's always a but.
One time I spilled a tear because I felt she was accusing me of the same old thing as she always used to: that if I truly cared about my goals, I would be making progress towards them already; therefore I must not be as invested in them as I think, and now the next step is to find my ~real~ goal so I will be motivated enough to finally get somewhere. Well, fuck you, too. :|
It's funny how I only need to spell it out like that and she'll immediately backtrack, nope, that wasn't what I meant, no sir, nothing to see here. Then she makes a suggestion that is actually useful and it's like it never happened. @_@
At another point I kind of complained about being surrounded by strange, sick people and she took this as a clue to tell me how much I didn't belong in a mental hospital. I just made some non-committal noise while thinking, "IF YOU ONLY KNEW." In other words, same situation as with L. Sigh.
The useful suggestions were good, though, and I reminded her that I wanted to know more about our family history. This time she wrote it down.
I came back from both events kind of motivated and sad. Odd combination, but no surprise when dealing with my family ...
Yesterday I picked up my brother at this town's train station to hang out and have "a coffee or something", which in my case turned out to be iced chocolate. It went really well and I definitely want to do it again, not just with him but also with M when she returns from Hungary.
The one part that left a bit of a bad taste in my mouth was when he asked me why exactly I'm in hospital and I just mumbled something about panic attacks. I didn't know what to say at all. This is not a topic I can speak freely about with a 15-year-old ... or anyone in the family, really. :/
Then today, my mother came to visit. We went into town as well, by car, and ended up at a different ice cream place. It was mostly pleasant, too. But - with my mother there's always a but.
One time I spilled a tear because I felt she was accusing me of the same old thing as she always used to: that if I truly cared about my goals, I would be making progress towards them already; therefore I must not be as invested in them as I think, and now the next step is to find my ~real~ goal so I will be motivated enough to finally get somewhere. Well, fuck you, too. :|
It's funny how I only need to spell it out like that and she'll immediately backtrack, nope, that wasn't what I meant, no sir, nothing to see here. Then she makes a suggestion that is actually useful and it's like it never happened. @_@
At another point I kind of complained about being surrounded by strange, sick people and she took this as a clue to tell me how much I didn't belong in a mental hospital. I just made some non-committal noise while thinking, "IF YOU ONLY KNEW." In other words, same situation as with L. Sigh.
The useful suggestions were good, though, and I reminded her that I wanted to know more about our family history. This time she wrote it down.
I came back from both events kind of motivated and sad. Odd combination, but no surprise when dealing with my family ...