I knew this would take me days to write. It�s now Sunday afternoon and I�m finally getting around to finishing it off. Ma�s back from her weekend with Roy and taking a nap and Lew is out at the movies with his girlfriend.

Being at home is still such a healing process. It amazes me sometimes how hard of a shell I�ve formed around myself that only seems to soften up in the presence of the familiar.

Last time I was here it felt so wonderful to do some of the simplest things; like take Etienne (my beautiful old fashioned city bike) out for a ride down the country lanes, and natter away to my brother about the pros and cons of vegetarianism, whilst dicing and skewering chicken for kebabs for our impromptu BBQ�s in the garden.

Watching the gorgeous red roses start to bloom along the side of the garage, and listening to my brother�s uproarious laugh at my overly enthusiastic reactions to our new shared love Game of Thrones�.it�s making me smile just thinking about it.

I love these small interactions more than I can say. But I think my family understands that, I think they understand me. As well as any one person like me can be understood.

When my brother came into my room this morning to see if I was awake and I mumbled �morning� and opened my arms up, he doesn�t hesitate to practically collapse on top of me and hug the ever loving shit out of me. �Cause he knows me and he understands that�s what I need to feel okay in that moment.

When my Ma came back from the shop and brought me a huge cup of sweet coffee, it made me laugh. �Cause she knows me and she understands what I need to feel comfortable.

Last time I was here, there was a huge argument. Not instigated by me for once, and I actually tended to shy away from it and wish the ground would swallow me up � anything to avoid the conversations that occur afterwards.

There�s a history of thinly veiled animosity that exists between us and our mother, and it�s never really been resolved. Sure me and her have had it out with one and other plenty of times over the years, but we�re just too different when it comes to matters of the heart that we don�t give each other what we truly need.

This time my brother had decided he�d had enough. She�d bemoaned the state of his room, despite the fact the house was basically spotless after we�d spent hours cleaning, and he just flipped. He ended up shouting at her for disappearing on us yet again and stormed off to the park. Ma looked at me beseechingly with tears in her eyes and asked me what she did wrong. I swear you could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed, and my head echoed with my huge mental sigh.

I trooped off to the park in my lounge about the house clothes and slippers to sit on the swings with my brother and talk everything through. He said that he gets mad sometimes, with the way she behaves. He said that he doesn�t understand how I�ve coped with all of it all these years �cause it�s always been so bad between us, and I told him that it�ll get better. That we always have each other and that would never change.

I said that maybe Ma just wasn�t equipped to be the mother we might have wanted or needed some of the time, but she was still there for us in her own way, she�s been getting so much better recently, and she does love us with all her heart.

And then after I convinced him to return to the house, and the subsequent awkward conversations began where my mother asked if she was a bad mom and what she could do to help us, I sort of had an epiphany.

When I said all of that to my brother, I didn�t say it because I believed it, I said it because I wanted to comfort him and I didn�t know how to. But I think I was speaking from my heart.

Too many times over the years have I blamed my Ma for our relationship, but maybe it�s not really her fault. Maybe some of the blame should lie with me.

I�ve realised, completely by accident, exactly what a lot of my issues with her stem from, and now I feel like a selfish cad. It took my brother�s simple words to make me understand that maybe my reasoning lacked logic, and maybe my emotions were a smokescreen for a hidden insecurity.

I broke down crying, which is not completely unheard of for me, but in front of my brother no less. I told him how I felt she always put someone else before me, that I thought she always loved someone more than she loved me, and I just wanted, for once, to feel like she loved me most and first of all.

I didn�t even know I felt that way until the words came tumbling out of my mouth. I said how I felt she loved herself more than me when I was a baby, �cause how else could she have up and deserted me? I said how I felt she loved my step-dad more than me growing up, �cause why else would she let him treat me the way he did and always appear to take his side? And I said I felt she loved my brother more than me, �cause why else would she be so much easier on him than she ever was on me?

And after I�d said it all I felt astonished, partially relieved, but mostly horrified. Is that really something I�ve kept buried inside my mind all this time? It�s like some sort of second place syndrome. Always wanting to be the apple of my mother�s eye and never quite feeling like it�s possible. My brother just looked at me confused and said �she loves us both the same, it�s just that you two butt heads more often than not� and it made me chuckle.

Because those simple but honest words summed everything up perfectly. Me and my mother clash, we do more than clash, we lock horns and sweat our way out of the situation each and every time. It�s more than being completely different people, it�s being the same and not the same, and it�s being so unalike one another in temperament, that essentially, we�re more alike than we know. Both strong and stubborn, both intelligent and unyielding. Both afraid and yet fiercely independent.

I know I�ve always been able to see right through people and hone in on their bad points, but I�ve always been able to rejoice at their good points too. I love my intuition and I greatly rely upon it. It�s one of the reasons I so readily understand both sides of a coin, and find a way to forgive things that have hurt me. Some people call me pessimistic �cause I can see easily how something can go wrong, but the ones that call me optimistic �cause I can see many ways that they�ll go right are spot on. I�m not diplomatic, not really; I�m curious and objective.

Sometimes I see everything, sometimes nothing, and it lends me an odd sort of confusion; �cause if everything is so abstract, how could I ever make up my mind officially? It�s why I�m so full of contradictions, pulled one way or another with a change of thought pattern and unable to settle on just one thing and be done with it.

But it works for me.

I also realised something else. Ever since Christmas when my brother bought my Ma an expensive present without telling me, I�ve been harbouring a hurt jealousy. And for what? Completely selfish reasons.

I�ve selfishly put him first and expected him to do the same to me. I�ve loved him more than anyone, and expected the same back. I�ve wanted him to love me more than he does our mother. More than his own parent, the very person who brought him into this world. What kind of a person wishes for that?

This kind. This selfish, self-absorbed stupid ashamed person writing this out.

It�s not ever fair to ask something like this of someone, and even less of my own flesh and blood. He loves us all fairly, but that doesn�t diminish the love he holds for me. Loving our Mom doesn�t mean I�m second best. It�s some irrational fear that I really didn�t know I had until I finally admitted it to myself making me feel this way and I want it to stop.

Have I really had such little faith in the people surrounding me all the time? Have I really felt like I�ll never be quite good enough to be someone�s number one? Yes. I really have. And it�s ludicrous.

How can I be so completely confident, bordering on narcissistic at times and yet be so confoundingly insecure at others?

I feel like I need to find a way to grow up, or maybe I have a little by admitting my fears and wanting to change them. I don�t really know. But I suddenly feel as though I understand my reactions to certain things, and I wish whatever made me feel this way in the first place hadn�t. Maybe it�s too much of too little?

I need to find a way to get past this and accept that maybe my feelings are irrational. I need to stand back on my own two feet again and stop emotionally leaning on others. I need to realise that separation, at this point, is only a good thing � a strengthening thing.

We�ve all got to learn to distance ourselves at some point; we�ve all got to learn to be on our own. That�s how we entered this world, and that�s how we�ll leave it.

I�ve been holding on so tightly because I�m scared, but suddenly I don�t feel quite so scared anymore.

I found this thing online about INTP�s and it was written by one itself. I thought it was amazingly accurate, and it made me feel better to know it wasn�t just me. That as alone as I am, I�m actually far from it.

To be an INTP:
� Is to be interested in everything and nothing simultaneously.
� Is to be good at everything but not great at anything�constantly the person in second place.
� Is to not want to lead but in the same light, do exactly what you want.
� Is to feel more intelligent than most people around you (for this reason, associate with smarty-pants and the world will seem saner).
� Is to be unable to express simple things like, �what I want is��
� Is to be what I call, �an antisocial socialite.�

So strange reading something I could have written myself.

Anyhow, what else is new? Doctor upped my meds, no crazy differences yet except for the migraine last night that kept me awake until I consumed a gazillion pills.

Elisha, god bless her soul, is paying my rent while I�m gone out of her savings. I was absolutely flabbergasted when she rang and offered and I�ve never known her to be so sweet. I�ve promised she�ll get every penny back by 1st July and I intend to stick to my promise. And buy her something while I�m away to express my gratitude.

My book reviews were in the magazine this month. I felt crazy happy about seeing my name in print, regardless of the fact it�s a free magazine. My friends and family we�re all happy for me too which made it even better.

I rang Howie yesterday, worried that things might have gotten weird between us with the constant contact and then complete lack of it, but everything felt the same and it was good to talk to him.

I shaved Lewis�s head for him and we decided to do something a wee bit different, so I managed to give him a lightning shaped Mohawk that ran jagged from the back right to the front left of his head, and ended with sharp tips. It took ages to shave it to all the different lengths and make sure it was a gradual shift in height to its peak, (especially without the god damn adaptions) and �cause his hair is afro-Caribbean, it was sort of a solidish little Mohawk which made it even more awesome.

His friends asked if I was a professional hairdresser, to which I laughed and my brother just said I was a perfectionist who could do anything I set out to do. It really warmed my heart.

And the biggest news of late is that Ma is getting married. Yep. Roy proposed and she accepted, and they plan on having the big day sometime next spring. I can�t believe she�s engaged to this guy, it�s sort of surreal.

He�s nice though, and he clearly loves to spoil her. It�s a little funny to think that he�s going to be family, I feel like I don�t really know him very well at all, and I know I take a very long time to warm to people and behave like myself. We�re also going to have two step sisters that I have yet to meet. I think they want us all to spend Christmas together, but I�ve made it clear that although my birthday is Christmas Eve and we�ll all be together at some point, I don�t really want to share it with his daughter, and I�m sure she feels the same way. It�s bad enough that everyone has a one track mind on the day before Christmas, without having to share my cake and shiz with my step sister who I don�t even know.

But, as weird as all this is, I don�t think it can make things worse between me and my Ma. I selfishly hope he keeps her so happy she showers Lewis and me in favours and motherly affection so we don�t want for anything.

But I�m 24 now. I�ve got to start finishing off that growing up process and turning my bad habits around. If I want to stop feeling like a failure, I need to stop behaving like one. Don�t like the fact I�m horrendous with money? Do something about it. Don�t like the fact I�m horrendous at keeping fit? Do something about it. I only have myself to blame, and I�ll only have myself to congratulate when the time comes to turn the tide once and for all.

I don�t want to feel ashamed of myself, of my behaviour any more than I already do. If there was ever a conscious moment to start to swing the seesaw back the other way, it�s now.

Writing all that made me think of Shakespeare�s Julius Caesar:

�There is a tide in the affairs of men.
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat,
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures. �

Never a truer word spoken *winks*

I�m pretty giddy inside about tomorrow. It�s been two long years since I�ve been abroad, and it�s been two long years since I�ve found a way to make pivotal changes without having that settling calm a holiday provides. Bring it on I say. Halkidiki here I come.