I'm posting this from the house of my wife, Michelle. I'm staying here at the moment for complicated reasons involving family. Put very simply, my mother, who suffers from a chronic skin condition, and an iatrogenic stomach condition which occurred as a result of a very misguided attempt on the part of one medic to fix said skin condition, had a severe attack of pain on Thursday night, and had to be taken to hospital. My father reacted in the usual way he does to things like this, by being a dick and trying to find some way to blame me for the situation. This is the kind of shit he's pulled since I was a kid. As a 32-year-old human being, I can't be arsed putting up with it, so I packed a couple of bags, headed over to Michelle's and have stayed here since.
Of course, Michelle and I are in the process of getting divorced, so I'm sleeping on the couch, when I sleep at all, which is not enough: I spent all of Thursday night awake and am still groggy from the sleep deprivation. It looks as if, as things stand, many plans are up in the air, but I want to stick to as much as I can: I still have the BPS forms to get filled in, and my writing I can get on with anywhere: I took my laptop with me, though haven't set it up on the broadband here yet, but I have it available to write on, and my poems all filed therein. In an odd way, that's a comfort.
I want to get on with writing. I want to get my BPS membership sorted out, and start moving towards doing something worthwhile in psychology. And I want to sort out getting a place of my own somehow, something I should have done back when, but things kept getting in the way. At this point I'm even considering a council place, something I previously wouldn't have done, but my priorities have changed. I want independence.
Most of all, though, I want my mum to get better.