May has been kind of a shitty month. I mean, it's May, right, and I normally start to struggle emotionally round this time of year. Then there was Mothers' Day, which was the bearer of a mass of unforeseen (by me) suckitude. I knew her birthday was going to be difficult, but when I start getting spam suggesting presents I could buy for my dead mother? Yeah.
Then my brother turned up one morning, on his way back down from scattering our mother's ashes on her first husband's grave up in Taihape. He was heading back to do the last cleaning out of her house before the settlement date. So that's all dealt with and gone now, and I'm very grateful to them for taking care of it.
And Friday, my inheritence turned up in our savings account. It's not a huge amount of money, but we're going to take a wee chip off the mortgage, and then build a deck. I think Mum would have approved. I talked to Rhiana about it and she's really keen, and she suggested we plant roses around it, because Mum loved roses. We've had some rough times with her, but she's a Good Kid.
Otherwise... it's looking like the kids will be going to school at the "temporary" site out in Halswell until around about Kieran finishes high school. That's really hard to take. We got the Red Cross transport grant, which was a decent sum of money and isn't really covering our transport costs for this year, let alone the next couple. Meanwhile, all the other schools are getting back to normal: even the other badly-affected ones expect to be back in business by term four. It's hard.
I have, I guess, lost my resilience. The bad things weigh. Things I used to shrug off bother me. I struggle to write, to think. Creativity seems a mile off, and that's how I value myself.
On the up side, next month I'm heading up to Wellington to see Megan and Susan, and take part in the Wellington Slutwalk. I know, I was just in Wellington a couple of months ago, but that's worn off. I need to recharge again. It feels selfish, taking off on my family, but I am pretty much going mad. I keep wondering what the fuck is wrong with me, why I'm so precious and frail and needy, and then I remember what an utter fuckmonkey of a year it's been. People are coming apart under the strain in Christchurch who haven't been bereaved as well.
If I can get my brain to work, Things could be Afoot, which would be awesome.