I am so confused.
I am so upset.
I’ve been away this weekend, playing sport in the north of England. I went with my mum; she always enjoys watching me play sport, which is really sweet actually. I can’t emphasise enough how great the weekend was: we played well, I saw lots of old friends, and had time to really enjoy myself. I’m not sure I’ve laughed that much before in one weekend — and honestly, that’s just what I needed.
But now, this: my paretns are splitting up.
I went to bed around 9:30pm last night, just as my dad got in from work; I was so tired after the weekend, and I have an exam this morning. By 10pm, my parents’ conversation had turned into an heated discussion, and by 10:30, they were shouting. My sister was in tears, I was too tired to even comprehend what the hell was going on, and I just wanted to sleep.
1:30am, they’re still shouting, and now my sister and I both know what’s going on. Our paretns are splitting up. Our dad is moving out.
Now I’m not going to lie: my parents’ relationship has never been the most stable in the world, but I just sort of thought it was all a combination of my mum being tired (she works in the care industry, which is quite tiring), my dad being tired (he works two jobs), and frankly, the strain of having a disabled child — me. they’ve talked about splitting up before, almost using it as a threat, but in my heart, I always knew it was just that — a threat.
This time, though, my heart isn’t convinced: this is not a threat. This is actually happening. Even now, at 6am on Monday morning, they’re talking about the money, and when my dad is going to move out. this is not a threat.
As I said, the relationship between my parents has always been strained, and in one way, it’s a relief to know that the arguing — the non-stop arguing — will, finally, stop. But I didn’t want it like this: I don’t want two homes. I don’t want to split holidays, or spend my weekends and weekdays in different places.
I don’t want my dad to leave.
Is it my fault? Maybe I was right — maybe, the strain of a disabled child was just too much for my parents. Maybe, after 15-and-a-half years, something has finally snapped: the strain was too much. My mum or my dad would never say that that was the case, but truly, who’s going to say that to their child? Just because they don’t say it, doesn’t mean it’s not true.
Sorry for the confused, illogical post; i’m just so confused and upset right now, and I’m crying, and I just want this to stop, but I can’t make it stop.