So I'm living in a little dirt hole inside the area on the map they call Qld.
My father-in-law is getting old and frail but having to put up with the humbuggery and general parasitic behaviour of a son that won't stand on his own two feet because he doesn't have to. It's a long term issue involving co-dependency, drug issues and general bull**** and it's finally running its course in that I am over it, DH is over it and we both want to move on as FIL won't despite all our best efforts (eg. involving social workers, police etc) as he reneges last minute.
I can't keep being a rescuer. I have my own kids to raise and a marriage to attend to so, ruefully, I am letting go and moving on. But where to? The town we are in is not only dying but succumbing to the ravages of ice and while Police are doing a great job trying to keep a lid on things, the scum are getting more prevalent and life is getting dangerous. Standing in line at supermarket the other day and a bloke was king hit and knocked out in the line because the guy behind him, high as a kite on ice, thought he'd been insulted and just went nunya. This kind of thing is happening a lot and...I'm over it.
An opportunity has come up in the form of a house in SA. Managed by a good friend of ours and situated in the Adelaide Hills, it's a lovely 3 bedroomed brick home that is being offered to us at a low rent and no hassle.
So I go down to check it out and it's suburbia in that the houses are closer together, the streets are narrower, more cars, more bustle but it's close to a lovely school and a decent shopping area and walking trails. It also has some lovely views. Looking good. Sign the lease. Start in November.
While I'm here I'm staying with parents. Dad doesn't give a **** and just does his own thing, mum is constantly mentioning things about moving around too much, how I don't see my siblings anymore (with good reason) and how I should do this, do that etc and in a low, cooing voice that makes me think that someone's slipped something in my drink and I'm about to start seeing unusual things walking around.
I hate the way they make me feel. Like a loser. Like I'm always at fault.
This isn't new. There's a track record here and part of the reason why I left their care early in life. I don't see my sisters because they're rank and file *****es and I'm of the view that if someone is toxic and continually so despite many, many second chances, you cut them away whether they are related or not (and suddenly life is much better). Blood, in my world, has never been thicker than water. So I'm saying to Mum tonight, you know, this isn't really working...I'm not feelin' it here....nothing's changed. And she says well you just have to grow up and think of your children. And I smile and think, yep, so much empathy, no admissions, and so much love there. Good onya mum.
So tonight I'm ruminating on it at length and wondering if this is the right track for us. To move back here again. To endure the same relationships (that don't really work but feel obliged to keep) again. Or is it a case of just separating myself from the bad relationships, dispensing with the romantic notion of remaining close to family, taking advantage of the good school, the good rent, the NDIS, the nice house, distancing myself from them all and forging new paths/relationships? Or do I go to Brisbane where we have good, supportive friends but a frenetic, roadworks laden concrete jungle environment that makes me just thinking of having to drive there, high rents but less farther to travel but no NDIS? And if not there, where? We can't stay where we are. We're watching everything wind down in front of us. Life's too short to wait around to die.
If you are psychic, please type now.
If not, tell me what you think anyway.
I need to be absolutely sure about this by Thursday. So, you know, no pressure.