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News of the nephews

When I think back and remember what a loveable little boy my oldest nephew Mick used to be, and I look at the young man he's become, I can't help but wonder what on earth happened to him. He started acting out when he was 13, but we thought it was just the onset of puberty; e.g. he got into trouble with the police by breaking in and stealing materials from a building site. When he was 16, we found out he had a tendency to self-harm. He's had periods of severe depression and has attempted suicide on more than one occasion. He thought he might be transgender, and got accepted into a counselling programme prior to having a sex change...then changed his mind about two years later. He's run away from home more times than we care to remember, ending up in squats all over the country, sliding into drug abuse and petty crime (shoplifting). He's dropped out of every school or vocational training he's ever signed up for and at 21, has no qualifications and no prospects. Two years ago, he was diagnosed as having severe bipolar disorder; today, the latest round of psychiatric assessment has labelled him schizophrenic. Yet when all's said and done, he's still our lovely, likeable boy underneath. Whatever is to become of him?

Meanwhile, it looks as if his little brother Romeo is heading back into hospital to have yet another operation to his lymph nodes. His neck/jaw area is full of lumps and bumps again that will need draining very soon. The infection has now been raging in his lymphatic system for a full 5 months -- yet his doctors are satisfied that it's nothing more than a case of cat scratch fever?

With all this going on, is it any wonder I like to escape from reality by looking covetously at footwear? Which reminds me, I was going to show you these I bought the other day:



To be honest, I'm not very excited by them, but they'll come in handy one day, I'm sure.

Comments

gamiila
Apr. 17th, 2010 11:20 am (UTC)
Not that I was ever likely too anyway. I don't really have it in me like my sister does.


How eerily alike we are in that respect! I only have the one sibling, and there is just a 15-month gap in our ages; but sometimes I have to pinch myself in order to believe that we're related. Having grown up in the same household, we couldn't be more different; and I often feel as if I must have been an only child, as apart from our genes, we have so little in common.

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