*yawn*

I'm on my own right now so I thought I'd spend some time on the internet before I give it a try to exercise. It's really hot today so I'm not too sure how long I can actually sit on my exercise-bike. But a few minutes exercise is better than no exercise at all I guess. My mum has arrived two days ago and since then I really haven't had a calm moment. She's constantly talking. She has been through a lot lately, with the divorce and everything. So I understand that she needs to talk about it. But I'm not that receptive right now. Luckily my boyfriend is there too so he can say more than my "mmmm", "okay" and "I see".

I'm still on the Quetitapine/Seroquel. I tried to call my psychiatrist on Tuesday but he's on vacation. Just my luck. I can't really say yet what the meds is doing to me. The restlessness in my legs comes and goes. And it can really get to the point where I'm just pacing up and down the hallway. It's a terrible feeling and it can drive me crazy. But it's not there constantly so that's good. I'm really tired, exhausted and sleepy. Sometimes I can barely keep my eyes open. That's a side-effect that has just come some days ago. I also still feel dizzy and weak sometimes. I still feel more stable though. I haven't had any suicidal tendencies since I started taking the med. I haven't cried, I haven't been sad. But I have anxiety and panic attacks. It's a bit worse than my normal anxiety. But if I'd take a sedative I'd just fall asleep because I'm so tired already. And at the moment I'm still taking the Propavan too which means a doubled hangover. Something needs to be done about the restlessness in my legs. Maybe it will go away by itself?!? Maybe I can take some med against it?!? Maybe it will disappear once the dosage is increased?!? I really need to talk to my psychiatrist about that but he won't be back until Monday. 

Two days ago we took the car to fetch my mum from the airport. I actually enjoyed the one hour drive. It was raining a bit, we had the windows open, I smoked, listened to the radio and talked nonsense with my boyfriend. It was relaxing. But when we arrived at the airport the sun was really hot and there were way too many people. So all the calm feelings I had inside of me kind of disappeared. The drive back wasn't as relaxing because my mum was constantly talking and well, she sometimes behaves like a teenager. For instance she screamed as if a bee had just stung her when she got some bubble water on herself. That kind of freaked me out. I hate when people scream! We had a nice evening though. I cooked dinner and the three of us just sat at the table in the kitchen and talked. Well, I was mostly staring out of the window but I listened and got really upset when I heard about all the rumours that my father has spread about my mum. 

Yesterday I was forced to get up early. Well, not really early for "normal" people, but early for me. And I was so hungover from the meds! Ush. We had a proper breakfast and then we went to a huge mall close to where we live. We wanted to check for clothes to wear at our wedding. As I said before, we don't want to make a big deal of the wedding, it will only be us anyway. But we both don't really own any "proper" clothes. My boyfriend found a pair of pants at a second hand store which look really good on him. It was just weird to see hm in something else than tight black jeans. I found a skirt at H&M (and a dress with small cats on it, really cute, but not for the wedding) and a pair of high heels with studs at a cheap shoe store. So now we have everything we need. We'll look proper. I was so exhauted! It was hot and buying clothes about the worst thing for me. Nothing ever fits, I always feel the judging looks people give me, like "how can she buy something here, she's way too fat"-looks. It's exhausting to get in and out of clothes and shoes for a few hours. And I was already tired because of the meds. So when my mum and my boyfriend decided that we should have lunch there, I panicked. I didn't show it but I guess they realized it because I got really snappy and grumpy. I hate eating out! We went to do some grocery shopping afterwards and I could barely stand straight anymore. I was so tired and exhausted. I could have just slept right on the floor at the supermarket. Ush. 

Today my mum and my boyfriend are in the town, taking one of those boats which goes around in the archipealague and then in the center of Stockholm. I called them an hour ago and they really seemed to enjoy themselves. My boyfriend loves to go out and my mum loves touristy things. I have decided that I'll go out with them tomorrow instead. The Pride Festival is going in Stockholm right now. You know, the LGBT-festival. And tomorrow they will have the parade so we will go and look at it. I don't know how long I can actually stand on my legs and if the heat will be bearable. But I'll give it my best. I want my mum to have fun and my boyfriend should enjoy his days off from work. I didn't complain anything yesterday (apart from being grumpy before lunch) and I won't complain tomorrow. Somehow I'm looking forward to it, somehow I'm not looking forward to it. Then on Sunday we'll have a day at home, maybe just take a walk down to the lake in the afternoon. The laundry needs to be done and we need to do the grocery shopping. On Monday it's my boyfriend's birthday and he wants to do something, to be out. So we'll take the car to Mariefred and visit Gripsholm castle. I guess I can always go and take a nap in the car if it gets too much. We'll either take picnic things with us or I'll pay for a meal. I still have that much money that I can pay for three lunches. On Tuesday we'll vist my boyfriend's aunt. And on Wednesday we'll drive my mum to the airport in the morning and in the early afternoon, T, my social worker will come and visit me. I actually cancelled on him this Tuesday because I hadn't slept much the night before and the restlessness in my legs was unbearable. So yeah, I have losts of things planned. And I still feel side-effects from my med. We'll see how that will work out.

I've been thinking about baking some chocolate-buns that we can have for tea and tomorrow for breakfast. And then there's still the exercise. I also need to make/create a birthday card for my boyfriend. I've also promised to cook dinner tonight. I guess I'll start with the card, then the exercise, then a shower, then bake the buns and then start dinner. I also want to read today, and watch another episode of American Horror Story. So I won't have a lazy day in my bed. Although that's actually what I wanted this morning. But instead I had breakfast with my mum and my boyfriend and once they left I cleaned the apartment a bit, opened the balcony windows, watered the flowers, took care of the cats, done the dishes and applied for student benefits. It's funny how people always think that the mentally ill are lazy bastards and do nothing. I can't even remember the last time I've just sat in front of the TV doing "Nothing".

My father - the psychopath

It has taken me some days to actually swallow and get over the fact that my father is a stupid asshole. I have always known that but I have had some hope that he would somehow change, that he would grow up. Because that's what he is: an immature, agressive, bullying, self-centered teenager. I haven't written that much about my father in this blog (yet) because I really haven't dealt with the huge influence he has had on my life, in a really negative sense. He destroyed my childhood. He destroyed my sister's childhood. He is the one that created my anxiety. He is the one that has sucked the self-esteem and self-worth out of me. I only began to realize that I'm worth something when I moved to Sweden, away from him and his demands. He is the reason why I tried to commit suicide when I was five years old. He is one of the reasons for my PTSD and the flashbacks I'm having. He is the reason why I don't go back to Germany to visit my friends and family. The anxiety gets too much. I can't stand being in my childhood-home.

Let me give you a short description of my father. He was born in the early 1940s in Iran and moved to Germany in the early 1960s to study at university. He never finished his studies but instead started working as a bodyguard for stars like Jimmi Hendrix and as a bouncer in some really famous clubs. He met my mum, they got together and after 10 years they got married. He is 13 years older than her.

 He is a really mean and self-centered person. He beat the shit out of us when we were children (well, my brother got spared because he was the "boy" and welll, boys are worth more than girls in his Iranian mind). He is kind of stuck in some old school Iranian values. But I must say I'm glad that he never forced his religion onto us. He is a muslim but not a practicing one. I have never seen him pray. It's weird because his brothers who still live in Iran are very open-minded and love their families unconditionally. You are never allowed to say what you really think in his company. That's where he and I always clashed. I say what I think. And I'm educated while he is stuck in his own little world in his head. So I know a lot more things than him.

 He is a really materialistic person. For him it's always about money. He doesn't like to give any of his children money. We were basically always the ones with the cheap clothes and never had any money for anything. Whilst he owns a huge Mercedes Benz and spends his money on drugs. But his still living in the delusion that he paid everything for us, that he supported, that he gave us all the materialistic things that we wanted. That's bullshit, we never got anything! I had to start working an extra-job when I was 14 so I could go to the movies, so that I could go on class-trips, so that I could buy the odd CD every now and then.

I think my father is a psychopath. He is really bad with animals, he beats dogs, kicks cats. He never shows any sympathy and has never been empathetic. The only time I saw him cry was when he had heard that his mother had died. For him a lot is about status and how others see him as a man. I always got to hear how ashamed he is of me because I'm a) overweight b)goth and c) I never shut up and I have my own opinions. The most important thing for him is how others see him, he wants to seems like a respected man. That makes him really shallow. He has never, not even once, told me that he loved me or that he is proud of me.

 My father is a drug addict. He has been smoking opium for almost 30 years now(he started when I was a baby!!). I somewhat always knew that but I first really got to know some years ago when my cousin and I discussed the matter. I think a lot of the agression and inhostility in him comes from the drugs. He has basically lived through my childhood in a daze. Drugs and being high is even less an excuse than being a mean child-abuser. 

He treats and has always treated my mum with disrespect. I have seen him beating her up tons of times. I have seen him smash her on the head with a frying pan. I have seen him throw things at her. While he was in his drug-daze she had to work full-time and raise three kids. But he still says that he worked his ass off for us. Hell no. He was at work in the evenings (my parents owned a restaurant and later a shop), closing the store. That's all. He spent lots of money on his stupid opium instead of doing something nice for the family.

He thinks that a man should be respected. He thinks that my family should be grateful for him paying everything for us. He thinks that he is an angel and we are all just disrespectful liars. He tries to diminish the beatings, the absence of love and the hatred he had towards us. He calls it a slap in the face, motivation and tough love.

So now you know a bit about my father. I have written all this to give you a background to what I'm about to tell you now. My mum and dad are getting a divorce ( I have already written about this). My father announced that he wants a divorce and that my mum is supposed to move out. Although the house is her family's house, her parents got it from the state after WW2. But my mum just didn't want to fight and she is kind of scared of my father. My mother moved out a week ago and it all turned into chaos. He was there the entire time while she and a friend tried to carry out things from the house. Although he had promised to let them be. He denied my mother to take certain things. He called her a whore. He acted really aggressively. And it all culminated when he threw a cup of hot tea at my mum's friend. The police was called and my mother was able to at least get a few things with her. My mum loves her new apartment. But she is afraid to go out, she is afraid that he would be around the corner, she is afraid that he will kill her. I just hope that things will calm down, they don't see each other right now which is good.

The day before my sister and my mum were at the house to fetch some things and he called my sister a whore, told her that she isn't his daughter anymore. My sister is the one that got beaten up the most of the two of us. She is smoking weed daily to deal with her anxiety. She is too proud to look for help. She has been on a sick leave for depression twice though. She has always tried to keep the relationship with our dad alive. But that day she just cracked. My mum later told me that she had been weeping, crying, screaming. I haven't spoken to my sister. I know her, she will be somewhere, travelling, on the beach, with friends, high, trying to distract herself. And keep it all bottled up. We have only twice in our adult-lives talked about our childhood. We have the same feelings around it all. She also has real difficulties to be in that house and around him. I just can't believe that he is making things her fault, that he is mad at her for helping my mother. I can't believe that my father in no way realizes that he is guilty, that he is at fault, that we all don't respect him, that we are afraid of him instead. I would really love to call my sister (we have had our differences, she has bullied me all my life, even beat me up while we were sharing a flat and I don't really respect her drug-abuse) and just tell her to stand up for herself. To not creep back to him. Just because someone is your biological father doesn't mean you have to be there for him. But I'm sure she is already in touch with him again. I hate to see her crawl for him. 

Another thing: I'm getting married in about two and a half weeks. I'm not having a wedding, I haven't invited anyone. But my father is paranoid and suspicious and thinks that everyone is invited but him. I don't want to call him to convince him otherwise. I don't have the strength for a discussion with him which will only result in him hurting me and calling me names. My grandmother, his mother, has given two very beautiful necklaces (which belonged to her mother) to my mother. My sister and I are supposed to get those necklaces when we are getting married. I have only met my Iranian grandmother once and I felt an instant connection with her. She was a writer, an artist, she loved music. She had led a difficult life as she was forced to marry a 30 years older man when she was 11 years old! But throughout her life she has been strong and just kept going and always found time for the things she loved. Everyone from my Iranian family who knows me tells me that I'm a lot like her. We share the same talents and we have the same ability to express ourselves with words. She died in the middle of the 90s. So she gave those necklaces to my mother and I have the moment in my head, I remember the exact words that were spoken, I remember the warmth in her eyes and her long grey hair. I remember it all. So, my mum wanted to take the necklace with her so she could give it to me next week (she'll come to visit me). But my dad took it from her, accusing her of wanting to steal and sell it. What the fuck? He said that the necklace is from HIS mother and that HE wants to give it to me. But the necklaces were given to my mum? And she will see me in person before my wedding! I have no plans in visiting my hometown any time soon. And I'm not even sure if I want to meet my father ever again. I won't contact him. If he calls, I'll answer. That's my decision. We haven't really spoken in years anyway, only through my mum or involuntarily when he picked up the phone when I wanted to speak to my mum. I'm really upset about this! It's not about the necklace being exclusive of expensive. It is about the necklace coming from my grandmother, the only thing I actually have of her. She has intended it to be mine at my wedding. So what the fuck? How can he be so selfish? I don't care about him giving it to me, I find that gesture to be a lie! I know that my mother was handed those necklaces anyway, I was there! I'm so upset about this!

So during  the last few days I have been trying to avoid thinking about my family, despite the fact that I was skyping with my mother every day and she kept telling me the latest news. But it's not working. All the hatred, all the anxiety and fear, have eaten me up. Honestly, I want my father to die. I know that it won't help me with my PTSD but at least I won't have to have any new bad and anxious memories connected to him. He is over 70 years old, he is a mean drug-addict. He should just drop dead. I know that's a mean thing to say. I don't want him to get killed and I don't want to kill him. I just think that enough is enough. He has used up his reasons to be alive. He should just stop torturing us. I don't care if I sound like a mean and resentful bitch. I used to be indifferent about my childhood, about his involvement. I think that was a defense mechanism. Now all my real feelings come up. And again, I don't want to hear how forgiveness can make me feel better, or to find a meaning in it all. There is no determinism, there is no meaning in anything. I'm not religious or spiritual. I'm atheist and logical. I don't want to forgive him. I just want it all to be over. I want to him to stop exisiting so he doesn't destroy our lives even more. 

Family hell - my parents are getting divorced

I don't feel well. There is a huge chaos in my head. And at the same time I'm somehow indifferent. Or maybe it's just dissociation. I don't want to feel so my brain just shuts down. But in general I'm an anxious mess. There are too many bad things happening in my life right now, I don't know if a healthy person would be able to cope.

My parents are getting divorced. I don't think I've written anything about my family on this blog, there might be something about them in my "About Me"-section. I'm not close to my family. My father is from Iran, he's an opium-addict and violent. He used to beat me a lot when I was a child. He also abused me verbally. I'm quite convinced that his behaviour is the main reason for my mental illnesses. I only stayed in contact with him because he was living with my mum and I didn't want to cause any trouble or arguments.

My mother is a sweet but passive person. She's somehow living in denial, she just blocks out a lot of bad things. She's pretending that her life is perfect. But my dad has been beating her since the beginning of their relationship 40 years ago. She just couldn't get herself to leaving him. That's really one of the things I'll never forgive her, that she stayed with him although she knew that he was beating us children. Anyway, my mum has now realized that she wants some fun in her life, go to concerts, go to the movies, travel and all that. And she has found the internet and loves chatting with people. 

My dad doesn't get it all and doesn't want to change his life. He has started spreading rumours about her, talking to me and my siblings, telling us that she has dementia, that she is cheating on him, that she is selling her body. What the fuck?!? So some days ago he told her that he wants a divorce. Really, she should have left him a long time ago and now he wants a divorce?!? He's being a real asshole about it all. He told her that she has to move out when she told him that it's her parents' house, he slapped her. He has started moving money around so he won't have to pay her anything. I guess he is used to Iranian laws where the woman doesn't get any money. 

I'm quite sure that all this is going to turn into some kind of war. My dad is totally convinced that he has the right to everything. My mum is just scared right now. I have told her several times that she should pack some bags and move to her brother for a while. I don't trust my father, he might just kill her in rage. I really could see that happen. I understand that moving to her brother would mean a break from the life and the standard she has had for decades but really, it could be saving her life.

So I'm worried as fuck. I don't want to be pulled into this. I don't want to have anything to do with it. It's not like I'm neutral, I hate my father. But still, I can't handle this. My sister is bascially saying the same thing. So, how do I cope with this? I also have to worry about not having any psch-help right now. And my boyfriend is home sick with pneumonia. This is too much for me.