SURPRISE!
So. Here I am at home. My mum's tidying up the kitchen, there's an electrician doing... something to the lights upstairs. Bags everywhere. My room's in chaos. The whole house is in chaos.Moving, you see. My mum is. Moving out of this house, I mean. Next week is moving day, so it's all a bit hectic. I can only be here for this week, really, before I have to leg it back up north and present academic flimdoo to my corporate sponsors. Great.
My mum's having all sorts of nervous breakdowns at the moment. Convinced nothing'll be ready or done or anything. Although she's calmed down a bit since we got the parking permits and the mail forwarding things sorted out. We did that today. She was deeply stressed in fairly predictable ways when I got here. Moving house and all.
More stressful than divorce, they tell me. And she's done a couple of those.
So, my mission statement was to be as helpful as possible, I guess. You know, take the strain, provide support. Be helpful.
Don't do anything stressful.
Like, say, come out.
Yes, an excellent plan all told. Wait until your mother's REALLY stressed out, THEN tell her you're kind of in to boys, actually. Great. Nice one.
Although, at the same time, it seemed a strangely appropriate time. Selling the house I've lived in since I was 2. End of one chapter and all that. Glad I did it. Had to eventually, I suppose and, as A said, she would have reacted in much the same way whenever I did it.
How did she react? ... all-right, I guess. She cried a lot. Got a bit cross. Taken it a bit... personally. She's feeling the loss of grandchildren rather keenly. Coincidence with the chucking of an awful lot of my childhood baggage not helping. "I was going to keep these for your children," she says, "doesn't seem much point now, does there?" Stuff like that.
She's coming round. Initially she actually refused to believe me, which is weird, because she's been asking me if I'm into girls for years. To be honest, I was expecting less surprise. "You don't SEEM gay to me" she said. She thinks if I had sex with more girls I'd change. Something about "habituating" myself to lads.
Yadda yadda.
Ultimately, she'll be fine. She still bought me slippers today. Just some adjusting to do.
In other news, I bought this swanky new machine yesterday. Am now proud owner of a Powerbook. 15" screen. Brushed aluminium casing. Oooooo. I like it.
Should tell my dad next, really. I imagine that'll be easier. For him, I mean. This ain't hard for me. I'm sorry she's upset. What can I do? She'll be fine once the move is over. I hope.
Hmm.
Probably more to come on this issue, at a guess. Better crack on with doing useful house packing things.
Laters.
posted by Memehunter @ 1:54 PM
3 Comments:
I'm glad that she took seemingly well. I can imagine that it would be difficult to tell one's parents: finding the right time and all. I'll cross my fingers that it goes as well with your dad.
Aw, cheers Jess. It's all ok, really. These things have a habit of working themselves out. As for "finding the right time" well, that was always the plan. "Less than a week before moving house"... not so hot.
Not so hot, but your reasoning was rock solid.
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