Attitude in the home to be worked on

I'm thinking about something that's so off of the radar with me I'm like thinking "just why is this?" but in a way that underscore one of big problems in my life which is actually I'm not really being responsible for it.

Perhaps that's with being away this weekend, having to chip in a bit doing things, tidying up as you see it at a friends.

This is something had been changing a fair bit the years but at least a part of the problem is that other people seem so reluctant to move out of  doing something they see as their role not least with my folks feeling in some ways guilty for the disabilities I have.

It's easy to find excuses for excusing me but outside of you doing things that actually most people are expected to the other side of this  that it encourages me to feel other people should just do this for me too.

Perhaps this is a better idea:
Chores
Own area
Making own bed
Getting clothes out for the next day
Hanging up

own clothes neatly after wearing/washing
Making sure worn clothes are available for washing
Keeping own spaces tidy
Helping in the home 
Fixing own breakfast
Setting tables with cutlery, mats, glasses and cold refreshing drink
Clearing away and washing up afterward
Tidying away in other spaces after you
Helping with vacuuming
Feeding pets

Going back

Domestic life is radically different for me compared with practically anyone within my broad age and highly likely to most over 19 simply because at one level I remain the 'child' spoken to more as one rather than that of any adult and in the physical domain I am always dressed as that child.

Visitors soon pick up on the difference and in turn follow suit so there isn't a adult to adult relationship as everyone talks to a boy who isn't expected to be in grown up conversation.

This can be a help when it comes to hobbies as they are more like boy to father ones especially when they themselves are a follow on from official boyhood.

For as long as I've known him trains full sized and model have been a huge passion of his, I recall the diesel's going just behind  our house when I was very young and the first model railway set he bought me.

We often talk about the models he's bought and often renewed given some of these are collectable and others current kits plus various things connected to the layout such as controllers and furniture as he revamps it given much work was put on hold earlier in the year.

That resulted in untouched kits and that he's working through and needless to say chatting about rather like his ham radio stuff and the club he visits connected with it.

As we approach Easter things are increasingly going back in the present working through everything.

Moving along

It's a odd time really.

You might of thought with the funeral dealt with which was praised by many as being one the best they've attended with just the right choice of hymns, songs and eulogy to be really meaningful and yet not over the top attended by some fifty-six people that might be it but that's not really been the case.

For instance, Dad needed to go to the bank on Monday as his account like many was a joint one meaning Mum had a bank card and was a name on the account which needed to be changed and at the same time a cheque from an insurance company as part payment of the funeral needed to be deposited.

In today's world of reduced branches that meant a journey of several miles each way to get that done.

Then of course Sunday was Mother's Day which just brought back the sense of loss as on radio, tv and online you were bombarded with ads and in store you'd have lots of people carrying related merchandise.

By bad coincidence Monday would of been Mum's birthday where even last March we went to a local pub for a meal together apart from yes more cards we obviously didn't have this year and presents and obviously at some point the cards that were there, over fifty needed to removed post funeral which just emphasized that loss as the window was empty.

One of plus points was seeing some of people at Mum's church on the saturday as they were setting the decorations up for Easter and being able to talk freely with them about how things were while in a more weekend boys outfit of a long sleeved t shirt, short socks and those blue cord short trousers.

Not the classic GSS thing sure but something that worked enabling me to be just me with people totally accepted as I am which for me was always the long term plan - just be the BOY you are in the community.
 

Families

Some days things just come crashing to you,  a bit of the past that jolts you as if a meteor struck you as you were just walking along the pavement.

It was really about some thoughts that I had with my second best friend at high school at the time, she faced a lot of physical challenges in her life but she had hours of time to try to understand me and we were chatting would of been early 1982 about tv and what we saw mattered to us.

You know, the kind of totally random teen stuff that actually in hindsight was really pretty significant for how I saw and felt.

Let me explain. On commercial tv there was a long running American tv show about family life across the decades called The Waltons that featured this extended family sharing lifes ups and down together in rural Virginia, and the head of the family John Walton Snr, operated a lumber mill and supplemented their income with a small-scale farming. They took in people and shared a lot as a family united, attending church on Sundays.

That's probably was much as I need to say for the purposes of this entry as I'm not writing a essay on the series or anything as it's what's in more modern parlance a "Slice of life" series seeing the family grow and change over time in accordance with events such as the Great Depression, WW2, the Great Society and Civil Rights  era and so on.

The thing Linda and I were discussing was Family: what it means to be in a family, our involvement or interaction if you like with with Mum and Dad, your immediate siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles. The extent it is a 'unit' and all that.

We were also comparing and contrasting our own relationships  with our families to what we had been watching.

In a lot of ways she saw many parallels  between that of how she cared for them as much as they had to do quite a lot for her and the fictional family we saw.

I once said half joking to Denise one breaktime If it was like mine, then everybody would be off doing totally their own thing, with Mum trying to hold the thing together and me behind a chair on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

That may sound kinda melodramatic but there was and still is the lack of bonds between everybody, no real sense of feeling for one another, for me it wasn't a place of safety with one sibling who'd think nothing of verbally and financially abusing me which wasn't really helped by my being able to spot in seconds any outright lies he was telling to get more for himself as he felt hard done to and obliged to report it.

That's before you bring in Dad who'd explode at the slightest thing, throwing stuff across the room, propelling me in a chair into corners like trash, threatening to burn down the house.

You see, that's the big comparison  between what family was like for her and for me and to open about this really hurt.

This whole experience left a big legacy with me, not least a very strong feeling of longing, almost desperation to loved and cared for.

What I wanted so much was physical and emotional intimacy, a feeling beyond mere words of what it means to 'belong', to be bonded and have bonds that outlast their very beginnings, that provide emotional comfort promoting personal confidence and development.

A relationship that would teach me what I needed to know to get by with people, to be able contribute to it, helping me to stand on my own two feet as a grounded individual within the wider unit.

A wider unit that shared a common purpose, the raising of and looking after that family that was prepared discipline me in a loving, structured, affectionate way so fulfilled my role and expectations within it and our wider community.

I wanted to be...in the Waltons family.

Unexpected gifts

Saturday, it had to be said felt different, different certainly from any time since being on tumblr and in its own way from any of the short lived time on asb even

You see on Friday I was quite poorly with dizziness and bad head that had rumbled on into much of Saturday to the point I struggled to get down the stairs and needed to go to bed.

By Saturday afternoon I felt okay enough to briefly fire up the Chromebook when I spotted a note inquiring if I was all right as they had not seen any posts by me in that time.
This was a person who I had explained a little about being me and my own disabilities that mean I have supervision and support needs.

Now I was not expecting it although I had known them since autumn of last year and struck up entirely platonic friendship so I quickly typed back to explain what had happened and that I'd be all right. 

I was floored by this.

Reason is I only know them because they follow posts about uniforms and boys attire being a boy in law and they also know I'm alb involuntary regressive and we both wear uniform.

Although I am always mindful of how legal age sets natural boundaries and limits following them, there were certain parallels here such as being treated more as the younger boy even if you're older that was the case in my last years in school and yes being cared for by them.

Equally they also could spot as he spotted something was wrong before I'd realized it and initiate an action even if I'd freeze and fail to do so.

The resumption through acceptance of being permanently alb with all of its differences, of wearing school uniform outside and inside has taken me down a couple of pegs from being stand-offish trying to deal with vulnerabilities by putting up barriers having trust issues trying to act grown up when I'm not to one where taken back to shorts, I am more humble, allowing people in, accepting others care not feeling  I might be used or ridiculed for just being me. Learning to trust again.

Two 'boys', both in uniform, one 'boy' recovering within his limits and cared for. It couldn't be better.