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Roller coaster weekend...
Apr. 23rd, 2001 06:28 pmHow is it that a day can start of wonderfully, and then end so crappily?
Okay, jumping ahead of myself here. Let's get to the start of the weekend before becoming embroiled in the Sunday Night Drama.
Saturday morning we headed up to Mt Bogong National Park with Greta and Lachlan to go bushwalking. A bunch of BRM's school friends had already spent the night there at a camping site at the base of the mountain - David, Lindsay (a bloke), Jane, Jen (a Canadian!), and Kirsten - and we chatted and slowly got organised to walk to the summit (1986 metres over 8km). Kirsten and Jen had to head back to civilisation for various things, but they came with us the two km to the actual start of the climb and then headed back. It was a nice walk, talking with these fun and nice people about various things (Greta cracked me up mis-hearing something I said about a big arse gun, and assuming it was a gun that gave people big arses!) Then we started walking up. And up. And up some more. It rained a couple of times, and gor colder as we ascended, but on the whole we were well prepared - no disappearing for 36 days like that idiot in Tasmania for us! - and enjoyed the fresh air and the stillness.
We left Lachlan and Jane at Half Way Hut (original name!) as Lachlan had a couple of blisters and Jane was tiring and we needed to speed up if we were going to make the entire walk before nightfall. Five of us - me, BRM, David, Landsay and Greta - continued on, but it got steep and rocky, and the weather was blowing in nasty. I made it to 1600 metres before deciding to head back with Greta - she didn't have proper waterproof clothing and was starting to get too cold - so the three blokes continued on. Greta ran most of the way down, which amazed and terrified me; it was, as I said, steep and rocky, and the wet madse things slippery to boot. I followed a bit more carefully, as my knee had decided to act up in the cold, and eventually caught up with Lachlan and Jane. WE had a really nice walk down, watching the sun steadily setting, and made it back to camp just on twilight - about 5.30pm. Greta was there, having changed her clothes but unable to light a fire: everything was wet. *smug grin* Just call me Pyro. After a bit of searching and the sacrifice of the original notes for a Subreality story that had been posted, I managed to get a fire going just as the boys staggered in - they'd gotten within 100 metres of the summit before deciding the weather was too bad to continue - apparently it was blowing a gale so strongly even BRM had trouble keeping his footing.
That night was fun. After food and hot tea, we gathered in front of the campfire and sang and told silly stories from our primary school days and just talked. I found out David knows the karate instructor from the club I've been trying to contact without success, so hopefully he'll be able to tell me the training times! We were all so tired after our respective battles with the Staircase Spur (the name of that particular approach to the summit of Mt Bogong) that we ended up in bed at around ten.
Now for Sunday. I woke up warm adn snug in my sleeping bag, listening to the birds and just enjoying the stillness. My legs were pretty sore from the walking - especially the right knee, which had been giving me trouble - but I managed to stagger around enough to get breakfast and then start packing up. Of course, it rained just as we started that, which was annoying, but I managed to get my stuff into my pack without too much hassle. Eventually we loaded up the cars and made our way to the town of Mt Beauty for coffee and pastry at the excellent bakery there. I went with David in his Combie, since Greta decided to go on to Mt Buffalo and camp there for a few days - she still has a week of holidays. David gave me a lift back to Wodonga, too, since BRM was in Lachlan's car and it was better to spread out two per car rather than have one person driving alone. Or at least that's my rationale. David was very cute, and very nice. We talked all the way back, about all sorts of stuff. He's studying teaching part time, as an alternative to his existing career as a cabinet maker. *shakes head* Why is it all the guys I like have various resemblances to BRM? (also a cabinet maker at one stage)
I was stuffed when I got home. I managed to get my sleeping bag dried (it got damp fromt he sides of the tent and I need it for karate camp this weekend) and my stuff largely unpacked before collapsing in a nice hot bath. BRM didn't come home for ages - he stopped off to visit Kate - and once he did, he had to finish his maths assignment, which meant no 'puter for me. :P I got fish and chips for dinner from the local shop, since we were both too tired to cook.
*sighs* This is where things get crappy.
I rang mum and dad's place, to let them know we'd got back okay (there were all sorts of weather warnings on the news), and dad... well, he just went off his head, ranting about the mix-up we'd had last week at Albury station when I got back from Sydney. He believed BRM had deliberately ignored whatever arrangement they'd come to between the two of them in order to make him look a fool. He hung up on me, and then rang again ten minutes later to apologise adn hung up on me again. That was enough for me - I got on my bike (aching legs, impending rain and darkness and all) and rode over to their place to find out what the fuck was going on. Mum was in a state, Dad was ranting and raving and carrying on and basically things were pretty shitty. :( Turns out that Dad had a) not taken his meds for two days; b) not eaten all day, running around like a mad thing doing various errands and c) been drinking all day. So basically he was not thinking straight, being paranoid and not listening to sense. It was all I could do to try and calm him down.
It's a terrible thing to see the man you've always respected and loved and admired crying like that. Especially in my family, where we've all been on the stoical side. It's where I learned it, keeping your pain to yourself, soldiering on even though you're breaking up inside. None of us can cry without feeling we're weak, in some way. But I've learned that it's a pretty maladaptive behaviour, because it only means the pressure builds up to breaking strain. It means you don't ask for help even when you need it, and there are things that people can't deal with alone.
It was scary, in a way, seeing both mum and dad exhibiting the sort of behaviours I've been battling with - at least I know where I get it from. *wry grin* I didn't want to be there, but I'm glad I was, if only because of the small amount of good I seemed to have done. I went around there today on the way home from work, and Dad seemed a lot better - subdued and perhaps a bit embarrassed, but rational again. I'll be glad when Anzac Day is over and he gets to slow down again; he's helping organise various things and having to run around like a mad thing to do it.
*sighs* So now I feel like I shouldn't go down to Melbourne tomorrow, which is stupid, because they're okay and it wouldn't do any good. Sometimes it feels like every time I want to do something just for me, something crops up to make me feel guilty about it. But I am going, because I've already bought my tickets. :)
I'll give Yas a call after I finish this, and try to make some plans. Maybe that will cheer me up.
***
Oh, Hutch, I mailed your CD today. :) Expect it in a couple of weeks.
Okay, jumping ahead of myself here. Let's get to the start of the weekend before becoming embroiled in the Sunday Night Drama.
Saturday morning we headed up to Mt Bogong National Park with Greta and Lachlan to go bushwalking. A bunch of BRM's school friends had already spent the night there at a camping site at the base of the mountain - David, Lindsay (a bloke), Jane, Jen (a Canadian!), and Kirsten - and we chatted and slowly got organised to walk to the summit (1986 metres over 8km). Kirsten and Jen had to head back to civilisation for various things, but they came with us the two km to the actual start of the climb and then headed back. It was a nice walk, talking with these fun and nice people about various things (Greta cracked me up mis-hearing something I said about a big arse gun, and assuming it was a gun that gave people big arses!) Then we started walking up. And up. And up some more. It rained a couple of times, and gor colder as we ascended, but on the whole we were well prepared - no disappearing for 36 days like that idiot in Tasmania for us! - and enjoyed the fresh air and the stillness.
We left Lachlan and Jane at Half Way Hut (original name!) as Lachlan had a couple of blisters and Jane was tiring and we needed to speed up if we were going to make the entire walk before nightfall. Five of us - me, BRM, David, Landsay and Greta - continued on, but it got steep and rocky, and the weather was blowing in nasty. I made it to 1600 metres before deciding to head back with Greta - she didn't have proper waterproof clothing and was starting to get too cold - so the three blokes continued on. Greta ran most of the way down, which amazed and terrified me; it was, as I said, steep and rocky, and the wet madse things slippery to boot. I followed a bit more carefully, as my knee had decided to act up in the cold, and eventually caught up with Lachlan and Jane. WE had a really nice walk down, watching the sun steadily setting, and made it back to camp just on twilight - about 5.30pm. Greta was there, having changed her clothes but unable to light a fire: everything was wet. *smug grin* Just call me Pyro. After a bit of searching and the sacrifice of the original notes for a Subreality story that had been posted, I managed to get a fire going just as the boys staggered in - they'd gotten within 100 metres of the summit before deciding the weather was too bad to continue - apparently it was blowing a gale so strongly even BRM had trouble keeping his footing.
That night was fun. After food and hot tea, we gathered in front of the campfire and sang and told silly stories from our primary school days and just talked. I found out David knows the karate instructor from the club I've been trying to contact without success, so hopefully he'll be able to tell me the training times! We were all so tired after our respective battles with the Staircase Spur (the name of that particular approach to the summit of Mt Bogong) that we ended up in bed at around ten.
Now for Sunday. I woke up warm adn snug in my sleeping bag, listening to the birds and just enjoying the stillness. My legs were pretty sore from the walking - especially the right knee, which had been giving me trouble - but I managed to stagger around enough to get breakfast and then start packing up. Of course, it rained just as we started that, which was annoying, but I managed to get my stuff into my pack without too much hassle. Eventually we loaded up the cars and made our way to the town of Mt Beauty for coffee and pastry at the excellent bakery there. I went with David in his Combie, since Greta decided to go on to Mt Buffalo and camp there for a few days - she still has a week of holidays. David gave me a lift back to Wodonga, too, since BRM was in Lachlan's car and it was better to spread out two per car rather than have one person driving alone. Or at least that's my rationale. David was very cute, and very nice. We talked all the way back, about all sorts of stuff. He's studying teaching part time, as an alternative to his existing career as a cabinet maker. *shakes head* Why is it all the guys I like have various resemblances to BRM? (also a cabinet maker at one stage)
I was stuffed when I got home. I managed to get my sleeping bag dried (it got damp fromt he sides of the tent and I need it for karate camp this weekend) and my stuff largely unpacked before collapsing in a nice hot bath. BRM didn't come home for ages - he stopped off to visit Kate - and once he did, he had to finish his maths assignment, which meant no 'puter for me. :P I got fish and chips for dinner from the local shop, since we were both too tired to cook.
*sighs* This is where things get crappy.
I rang mum and dad's place, to let them know we'd got back okay (there were all sorts of weather warnings on the news), and dad... well, he just went off his head, ranting about the mix-up we'd had last week at Albury station when I got back from Sydney. He believed BRM had deliberately ignored whatever arrangement they'd come to between the two of them in order to make him look a fool. He hung up on me, and then rang again ten minutes later to apologise adn hung up on me again. That was enough for me - I got on my bike (aching legs, impending rain and darkness and all) and rode over to their place to find out what the fuck was going on. Mum was in a state, Dad was ranting and raving and carrying on and basically things were pretty shitty. :( Turns out that Dad had a) not taken his meds for two days; b) not eaten all day, running around like a mad thing doing various errands and c) been drinking all day. So basically he was not thinking straight, being paranoid and not listening to sense. It was all I could do to try and calm him down.
It's a terrible thing to see the man you've always respected and loved and admired crying like that. Especially in my family, where we've all been on the stoical side. It's where I learned it, keeping your pain to yourself, soldiering on even though you're breaking up inside. None of us can cry without feeling we're weak, in some way. But I've learned that it's a pretty maladaptive behaviour, because it only means the pressure builds up to breaking strain. It means you don't ask for help even when you need it, and there are things that people can't deal with alone.
It was scary, in a way, seeing both mum and dad exhibiting the sort of behaviours I've been battling with - at least I know where I get it from. *wry grin* I didn't want to be there, but I'm glad I was, if only because of the small amount of good I seemed to have done. I went around there today on the way home from work, and Dad seemed a lot better - subdued and perhaps a bit embarrassed, but rational again. I'll be glad when Anzac Day is over and he gets to slow down again; he's helping organise various things and having to run around like a mad thing to do it.
*sighs* So now I feel like I shouldn't go down to Melbourne tomorrow, which is stupid, because they're okay and it wouldn't do any good. Sometimes it feels like every time I want to do something just for me, something crops up to make me feel guilty about it. But I am going, because I've already bought my tickets. :)
I'll give Yas a call after I finish this, and try to make some plans. Maybe that will cheer me up.
***
Oh, Hutch, I mailed your CD today. :) Expect it in a couple of weeks.
