(no subject)

I am cheerier than usual at work today because (see: yesterday's post) every person who comes through the door is potentially the person who said something nice about me in the staff meeting when I wasn't there. It's not so much that I want to reward them for saying nice things about me as it is that now a standard has been set and I can't let the side down. :D

That having been said, Mum and I might not be talking to each other. I'm not really sure. She called me last night at nine-fifteen freaking out over some new shit Bernard has pulled, which I'm not going to go into because it is deeply stupid on the part of both mother and child and I'm sure really it's about the fact that *checks watch* I am now brother in law to possibly the most annoying person on the internet.

But I am done with the family drama at nine-fifteen at night, I am done with domestic espionage, and I am done with this kid pushing my buttons. So I told Mum I didn't have the information she needed, I told her how to google it, and I got that little bitey "I'm angry at you" edge to her voice when we were saying I goodbyes. I texted her this morning but haven't heard back, which doesn't necessarily signify much, but I'm also done with getting the silent treatment solely because I choose SANITY, so the ball's in her court.

Wow, that was a lot of bile for someone who's cheerier than usual, huh. You should see me angry. Actually, nobody should ever see me angry.

And I have a headache.

I think I'm possibly having a very confusing day.

Fucking leap years.

(no subject)

I was right, apparently we Weren't Talking. Still, Mum came round and emailed me, as you do, and it wasn't a terrible email in and of itself but the strain of having an asshole for a son is clearly getting to her. She thought some things of me that she would not think under ordinary circumstances. And I blame Bernard, because I can.

It's not so much what she said, which we straightened out on the phone, as what Bernard's doing. But the email arrived right before lunch and I was literally shaking with anger when Coworker J showed up to relieve me. I had no appetite at all so I bought a banana and a coke from the lunchroom, because it was the least I could eat which would still keep me going.

I actually ended up walking over to the convenience store nearby and buying a pack of cigarettes. I smoke very infrequently, which is just as well because when you haven't had a cigarette in a long time, one gets you buzzy. The buzz knocked off the worst of the anger, and I'll cope with the rest. R can have the pack, I bought his brand.

I just don't know where to put all the anger when it happens. It's gone pretty quickly, but it's deeply unpleasant when it's there. Short of finding a quiet place to hide and sulk, a cigarette was the next best thing. Not that I recommend this as a form of therapy, mind you, but at least I'll be able to get through the rest of this day, which is turning out to be frankly horrific.

There's a reason February 29th only happens once every four years.

Anyway, things are sorted and that's the important part. Mum's probably still a bit ticked but she'll get over it, and hopefully all this went down for the best. I have not got time for any more of this bullshit.

(no subject)

Hey guys, sit up, read this post. I don't harness up the LJ for causes very often.

This is a link. Don't click it until you read the rest of the post.

ATTACHMENT THERAPY: A SEARCH FOR SURVIVORS.

A compatriot of mine has begun work on a blog for survivors of Attachment Therapy, also referred to as Holding Therapy or Rage Reduction. This is a brutal and sometimes fatal form of abuse masquerading as psychiatric treatment. There's next to nothing out there for children and adults who have undergone it, in part because it's a relatively new "technique". Attachment therapy promises quick fixes and firm results and creates lasting scars instead.

This is child abuse, sanctioned and committed by so-called professionals and funded by insurance companies. It is child abuse, and there is plenty of documentation that it can easily end in murder.

If you'd like more details about what Attachment Therapy involves, and some of these are graphic, you can visit the blog. If you can't cope, or don't want to, I don't care. You don't have to read it, though I think you should. What matters is making this public. And that, honestly, means getting that blog as public as humanly possible.

So read it or don't read it, but please post the link and title on your journal. Some parent's going to be told they should send their child to Attachment Therapy and they're going to get on Google and try to research it, or their friends or family are. Some survivor is going to start struggling with their experiences and look for help, and they'll get on Google too. The above-linked blog should be the first link anyone sees when they search for Attachment Therapy. I believe this without reservation.

Feel free to copy the text of this post, in whole or in part, when you post.