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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/994052
Rated: 13+ · Book · Personal · #2217241
My blog, welcome.
#994052 added September 24, 2020 at 12:12am
Restrictions: None
I’m Tired
September 23, 2020

I thought the next time I would be on here to blog would be spent writing about how I’m excited for Halloween or the other various things I’ve got going on, instead, I’m going to be journaling. I’m sorry I can’t be the upbeat Miranda I try to be on the newsfeed on this but right now I need this. So for a few minutes, I ask you to humor me. Please.

My mom just called in sick to work in order to take my younger brother home tomorrow. He was supposed to go home Sunday. There was a small incident between my older brother and him, and then her and C. It started when my eldest sibling, C, was upset about A, the younger one, ignoring him. He poured water on my mother which then resulted in a mini water fight, except, A didn’t want anything to do with it. So he left. That was going to be the end of it but C, in an irritatingly childish-like state from his nightly medicine, went after him with a little bit of water to pour it on him as well. They end up in my room and A falls over the bed.

He’s okay, though I imagine it will leave a bruise later on.

But after the fall, he left soon after that all the while cursing my brother along the way.

So C leaves and goes into my mother’s room. They get into an argument about something relating to that and when I walk in I ask what’s going on, a few things get said and my mom ends up crying. I comfort her then go to see C, who walked into the kitchen, closing the utensil drawer. I’m not stupid, I know why. Things get heated enough and your mind fills with the oh so fun intrusive thoughts. He didn’t do anything but the intent was there.

The next ten minutes were spent talking to him and trying to get him to understand some things, while listening to a few other tidbits of information. Mental illness has apparently struck everyone on my mom’s side of the family now. The bottom line is that they, C and my mom, need therapy. I think the rest of us do to but they are the one’s that need to do it together.

I’m tired of this. I’m tired of being the mediator. My mom shouldn’t have to deal with this alone, and it’s not that bad as it used to be, but I’m just so sick of it.

Until next time, I guess *Cookie3*




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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/994052