Father’s Day

Today has been a crap day. It started out pretty well but slid downhill fast. Baby Daddy saw Daughter Number Two yesterday, so I did not have to manage that today. It was beautiful weather and I spoke to the Current Person of Interest this morning.

 

It all came apart spectacularly when my Dad dropped in so we could wish him a Happy Father’s Day. Son Number Two had had a restless night and had been short tempered all day. Son Number One was his usual testing self. Literally two minutes after my Dad and his wife walked in Son Number Two exploded in a ball of rage at Son Number One which involved lots of swearing and door slamming. And went on, and on, and on. Probably for only half an hour but it felt like FOREVER.

 

I don’t imagine Father’s Day is much fun when your Father killed himself. Especially if he murdered your big sister at the same time. While I never deny my Son’s their memories of their father and their grief at his loss it is quite a different scenario from a Father’s Day with an absentee father, or one who has passed away. I can only presume it raises conflicting emotions for them, it certainly does for me. While I understand  all that, part of me screams why oh why couldn’t the major meltdown have happened after my father’s visit?

 

I am just so tired. I have a two day Autism workshop thingy that I’m sure would be worthwhile if I didn’t feel such a mess but as it is, it is another thing on the long list of things I have to manage and leaving Daughter Number Two for two days to attend is making me anxious like you wouldn’t believe. She is being minded at home which is the best scenario but I’m still finding it difficult. I’m finding everything difficult.

 

In the news over the past week there were two stories that resonated with me. One involved a murder/suicide in which a father drove his two young children into a tree. The other was a step father killing his step daughter, after it is thought she woke up while he was assaulting her. These stories are a physical blow to me, that knock me down. And it is so hard to keep on getting back up.

 

This is the best I can do. I can’t do anymore. And it sucks to realise it doesn’t seem good enough.

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