An Audi TT

Freds work mate told him that it was his fault that I was crying in the rest rooms. And it was.
He glared at me when I went up to dance. He pretended to be so drunk that he was falling asleep. But his colleague said he saw that he was glaring at me with his chin on his chest and was not that drunk or sleeping. And when I sat down he kept forcing me to kiss him.
He disappeared and I got worried that he might have decided to walk home on the main road seeing that he was being irrational and drunk.
Me and a different work mate found him out the front trying to get a whiskey barrel loose from a decorative sculpture. Punching and kicking them in a blind rage.
When he saw me he said "how did I end up with b^tch and a sl^t like you" He was drunk. And he shouted over and over.

how awful!
bizi

We were out a local pub and Scotland were playing. They were going to lose by one goal. And Fred started bawling at the tv in the busy pub. You *****s, ****ing *****s and he started rolling the rr's and drawing it out "*rrrrrr r**s! And his friend told him to stop making a scene. And Fred carried on screaming at the t.v. I said please calm down. And in the end his friend grabbed him and said :this is my local and you are going too far and making a fool of us as well as yourself. And he seen sense. His friend was quiet for a bit and seemed lost in thought so people assured him that if he hadn't done something that someone else would have and another joked that his girlfriend was ready to give him tongue soup anyway.
It's ok to be passionate, and patriotic. There was no need to lose control. He would always forget himself and where he was. He would see red. How else could I explain it. He must have just been that kind of person who would see red.

Fred started be-littling me again when we moved in together. I thought he had grown up and changed . I put it down to him being stressed or because the boys at work had been winding him up. Both were probably true.
He spoke Like a little school boy. One that sticks in my memory was : ooohweeohhh girl powa, I'm going to change into ... any day now.
I think we were maybe speaking about a girl that had work experience and Fred said she was delusional and only men are fit enough to carry the weight of the materials on a building site. And I just said his views were a bit draconian and you have to give them a chance.
Oohhh girl power, was a regular show stopper for Fred.
He would act so Jekyll and Hyde. He reminded me of an un well young man I met in hospital. He said I love you....and then try and be funny and call me .. honey bunny.. and then he would ruin it and say something ridiculous like even though you used to be a man and laugh and put his head down.

He would put his sister's down all the time but his brothers were long suffering because of their wives. He would say that his sister would never ever be in a court room and be a proper solicitor. I said that she could be a legal secretary and that millions of graduates work in jobs that you wouldn't initially have guessed their degree would lead to.
Fred spoke to an old teacher and they just blew his head bigger than it all ready was. Saying that they wish they had gone down his route and had a trade. Kids are disrespectful, there's no discipline without the belt etc. everything we all knew. And a teacher said that Fred had more common sense than his sister. Why would he do that? His sister was highly strung and ambitious but he didn't have to pit Fred against someone in his own family and undermine her achievements. I knew who she was from school and everyone knew she was very intelligent.

The truth was that Fred wasn't happy with his job as a fabricator or in a timber yard. He wanted to be a mechanic, joiner, builder etc. They had more scope than being stuck in one place. They could do jobs of their own outside of work hours as long as they published their extra earning. Or in time you start your own business.
With both his jobs when I knew him, there was no extra hours, they were fixed. His sister said he could have done engineering at university. We all knew he felt he was selling himself short so she was trying to be encouraging. Even though Fred had nothing nice to say about her.

If Fred saw someone with a shirt and tie at Macdonalds drive through. He'd say typical executive, does nothing but work and eat c^ap food and will end up having a coronary .
When it was my grandfather s 80th he had his two pennies worth pop at my mum's family. What is he so full of himself for, look at his belly for a man in his twenties. And I didnt agree with him, even though the relative in question did say inappropriate things that were a result of his privileged background. Fred needed to grow up was all I thought.

I was not just embarrassed when his work scrapped the Xmas night out. The following year Fred acted out when he was drunk and walked across the plants and decorations after someone "egged" him on. We didn't fall out. I shrugged it off because he was showing off. And then the "high spirits" incident. His work went to a restaurant opening and who ruined it ? Three in a row Fred.
When we were out with my old school pals up town after I bumped into her at her work, you messed it up again. A man was "chatting up" one of the girls and she had a partner. And Fred got militant and when you were picking a fight, you kept looking at me thinking I should be impressed and rooting for you, when I wasn't. Everyone crept away and we were left on our own.
But it wasn't your fault.of course. The man who flirted with the girl was a sleazy a^s ...So on..And so forth.

Of course I was angry with my parents after my first year parents evening. My wall became even more enforced. I was getting average in English now. I scraped a 2. My writing in art was lack lustre. I wasn't good in art or p.e. or drama in primary school. They took confidence. I used to solve the extra math problems in primary. At high school it began to turn into mumbo jumbo as the years rolled on.
My father was livid I didn't take German. But I had never met my German family! And I never asked him about my family because he was so closed off himself. He ended up speaking about a d^mn raccoon drinking his juice on a golf course in America. Of course I wondered where my surname originated. My gran had early dementia I think when I started to see them on a Saturday. She just knitted away, quiet as a mouse.
The art was from my father. He gave me tips on how to paint, got the ball rolling. Not a master class exactly but how to mix colours by thickening the paint. A touch of water and keep adding and mixing. If I was happy I wouldn't have needed art. If I didn't feel like all everyone did was lie to me, I wouldn't have needed art. When I asked questions he deflected them and made jokes.
He would rather I was learning the periodic table, solving maths and physics problems and that I'd taken all three sciences. But my home was with my mum. My father was far too gone. I knew that. He never told me grans full name. I answered the phone and told her friend she must have the wrong number. And then I realised when I put the phone down and explained to my father. I had spent all these years, with my gran blending in like a ghost.
I never asked him about my grandfather because I didn't even know the truth about his life and his leg. He was secretive. I had been shown my grandfather's medals and military portrait.
My mum was secretive. And ignored my questions too. My gran and granda were repressed. House on fire called them blue nosed to their face. I'd never have done that.
Yes I passed many a period in English, just doodling or thinking of other things. I didn't realise I had this mental block. I just thought it was the way I was wired. I must be a kinetic thinker? Maybe I really am not that intelligent after all. Am I just too sensitive?

I would rather have been 100% sure. I didn't have the information I needed with me. And my mind drew a blank even though they told me stories referring to themselves as postman and his black and white cat. Thankfully I didn't phone. But when they said which one, there is two at that address? It threw me. And I realised when I got back to my car which one it was. But I got tied up with other business and decided that someone else would see to it.

I knew that schizophrenic disorders would require medication. I knew that I needed mine for my issues.
But I couldn't believe that some people accepted a doctors prognosis saying a person had a string of mental illnesses. Of course if you have a serious mental illness you will at some point experience social anxiety,depression or OCD .
A dual diagnosis where I have had treatment is thought to be rare. When I hear people talk. So more?
I thought that if the person was well enough to have conversations and get information on their affliction that there was hope.
And from my experience keeping the mind in the moment, not getting stuck in your thoughts IS the way to go.

I believed that I must have a chemical imbalance.
But if diabetes type 2 could be kept in check with some with a controlled diet, there was maybe hope that bi-polar could be managed without resorting to medication. Especially when the medication is so strong and life altering. But I should have admitted that my ailment was not just like diabetes or depression.

My English teacher said I was university material. And I remember I used to love writing stories in P2. It was effortless for me. Seven A4 pages for a seven year old in an hour and half at the most, was promising.
Like everything else in my life it was short lived and over before it even started.
A nurse said to me : not everyone is against you, you know. When the people who are supposed to guide you, nurture you and help you, simply fail. Then survival instincts, step in and you find a new way to cope with the pain. Or shut it out and dull your emotions. If you don't let it through you can't feel it's full intensity.
I feared my elders, where I should have trusted and respected them.
I was humiliated in front of the whole class. I could keep my home life as hushed as I could. But not this. This was something that I'm sure others will remember too.
My friend said to me you never get excited. But If something happened once, and I got grief for it, I set up my defences, instantly. Like Kafka' s castle. Nobody would penetrate my castle. They could try.

After my breakdown, I eventually admitted I needed to relax. David would say, chilled day today. Then be on his way back out to work. I felt miles better than pushing myself to do things. And I learned to not compare myself to others. And ignore my mum's moods.
I watched the extras and directors commentary on my favourite dvds. And realised that I was going to have to wait for the dust to settle before I even thought about what came next.
But filling my time wasn't all that hard. I did some cleaning, seen Fred a lot, met pals in pub on Fri, and went for a jog. Just did normal run of the mill things like getting stuck into books, films and music.

I tried to draw but it was too intricate for someone who had a major major major mother of all breakdowns. I needed to start small but time was of the essence. And I didn't have the space either. I would feel guilty for "sitting around the house all day" when it was really me needing to rest.
I turned down the art therapy because I thought it was based at the hospital, and I didn't want to be reminded of being really ill. That's why I refused.

I didn't want my brothers girlfriend to think I was a waste of space. I seen him hold her up to the wall one hand pinching her cheeks. I was taken by surprise by his angry outburst. But I didn't say a thing.I processed it later. I wouldn't have turned a blind eye before. Maybe I was desensitized from my experiences.

I apologise for turning down your kind gesture. I know you were trying to help.
I was like an addict in a way. Everyone around was just trying to be a saint or a martyr, get brownie points or a pat on the back. Nobody really cared for ME. It wasn't my best interests they had at heart.
Everyone just wanted to lock me in a gilded cage so I would never cause trouble again. And they wanted rid of my art because it belonged to a "bad" person and not in a school.

I came in and I was out of it.
I was un raveling for real.
I had been drinking.
Probably not slept more than
Two hours each night
For weeks on end.
Help on Fri night.
God I feel awful
For saying what effing tablets.
Just fire me !!
I was unbelievably sick.
The police should have
Arrested me and taken
Me to the ward.
How I escaped is anyone's guess.
And even in hospital
I didn't feel ill.
I spent most of my years
Dampened down, not feeling
My feelings, with any intensity.
That I wasn't frightened
By the disturbances,
Where my world was
Once black and white,
Now there was colour.
Everything was flowing
Thick and fast.
May as well enjoy it.
Because I wasn't going
To be around much longer.
This would never last,
Like everything else in my life.
My self destruction
Had flicked a switch.
And this illness wouldn't
Even let me realise
I was detained under
The mental health act.
Which meant I was
In need of urgent
Medical intervention.
I wasn't sick.
I was once blind
And now I could see.
I was allowed home
After a month. But
That only meant
I Was well enough
To not be in hospital.

My step family never had anything nice to say about me. David couldn't be happy that brains would suffice. No people with brains don't have common sense. End of story.
My parents grounded me. They never ever took my side when I fell out with a friend or fought with someone. I only reacted to other people and never started a fight in my life. It was dark and I was taking out puppy Sam a walk. I was upset and crying and whispering it's so unfair. And once I calmed down returned to my usual composure.
Turns out that my aunt and a friend spotted me somehow, when they looked out the curtains. So they told everyone I was speaking to myself. That wasn't quite the case. Talking aloud while distressed was a better description. Even though it was dark it made no difference but I was 8 at most. I wasn't a blood relative so I never expected to be treated as such. There was nothing wrong with them or me, just family dynamics.
I knew my father and all his side but I didn't need a proper relationship with them. We were acquainted that was fine. I got to know my father and I did speak to some on his side and visited along with him. But obviously I felt distant from them. I was accomplished at school and shy so they took me how I was. I didn't go to London because when they visited the girls didn't even introduce themselves. I would get asked what I wanted to be after school. And I had never spent more than half a day with my father. It was daunting. And after the abuse I got for the martial arts shoes, there wasn't any point in complicating matters if they even let me go.

But David did do his best to treat me and my brother the same. And he was honest and would tell us stories back yonder.
He told us why he wasn't comfortable with showing emotion. His dad found it hard and so he did too. One time, his dad drowned puppies when he was young . It was a common thing then and acceptable as they were just mongrels and not worth anything. They couldn't afford to keep them so it made sense. There wouldn't have been an animal shelter nearby back then.
He stopped playing football because someone picked on his shoes.

When my mum turned my grand parents against me, I couldn't do a thing about it. Whatever my mum said was gospel. Of course I was the liar, I was just a teenager. I have a hard time convincing myself I am not that defenceless youngster anymore. I don't have to resort to the things I did back then. But I still think why why why

How's the mileage in that TT?. Is it 'Vert?. Color?. How much?.

I wanna buy da dam thing to rid you of your burden.
They take it to the junkyard and watch the 100T press do her thing. Cool?.
Don't leave any personals behind, please.

Once upon a time, a friend was constantly complaing about his yunky car.
Someone paid a woman to distract him, and burned the hell out of it.
It happened to have two airline tickets to fly to NY inside. Round trip.

Someone was counting on giving his friend 1k for a new car. Not to pay 452 extra for the favor.

Where I live, it's not a melting pot of different cultures. If there's one thing I could blame my surroundings for it would be telling my propensity to tell jokes that were politically incorrect. I was young too. Every joke I told I had heard from my family and friends. And sometimes if you can't beat them, you may as well join them. I was young and thought I had nothing to lose.

I didn't say what I wanted to be after school because, one : my mum laughed at me when I did an assignment on what you want to be in the future .
Two: my father would have told everyone if I said what I hoped to be because he was unemployed, and never had anyone else the whole time I knew him and I didn't want that pressure hanging over my head. It would have been no thanks to him if I did succeed. Health before wealth he would say. Heart before wealth works better for me.

I only kept the higher going because a friend convinced me that I had to "keep My brain ticking over" . Don't give up yet they insisted.
At the launderette they didn't know about the hospital so I was a bit of a conundrum. To be honest If they did know, they would still have told me to try again and go back to school. They found out in time like every where else.
I swore I would never let life beat me down like my father. If my mum had told me that he didn't even come and see me being born because he wanted a boy then I'd have refused to see him. But my mum had never read Uncle Frank's letters in the study.
Then at the tender age of 18 I had a breakdown and was placed on suicide watch. My life was built on sand. It was going to happen at some point, that switch just needed a small flick.
Nothing was ever normal in my life anyway. I was naive to believe I was exceptional so I wouldn't be like my mum or gran or father.