Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Wednesday 7 September, 2005

I don't really know how to start this blog, so I'll just introduce myself. Hello, my name is Martin. A few things about me is that I'm twenty-eight years old, I grew up in Wokingham, but I currently live in Fitton. I live near the agricultural college with some roommates of mine. I'm a very hard worker, and a good leader. Most important is that I love flying, and I am currently qualifying to be a pilot. It's an amazing feeling to know I'll be up there flying soon. It's been a long time coming, and I've been trying to become a pilot for ages, and It's been my dream since I was six. I've had to support myself through all this, and it'll be worth it.

I shouldn't be writing about piloting. As much as I love aviation, it's not the reason I started this blog. I'll probably start another blog to talk about planes and aviation. The reason I started this blog is my therapist wanted me to start writing down my thoughts and feeling somewhere. I've only had one session with him, and we spent some of the time setting this up. I'm going to therapy because my mother wanted me and my siblings, Simon and Caitlin, to. It's been a difficult week. What happened was is that unfortunately, my father passed away three days ago. He was doing the shopping, like normal, and his heart just gave out. He was in hospital for five hours before he died. He was in a an almost comatose state the entire time, and none of us were able to say goodbye to him. So, Cait decided we should all go, for mum and even dad. I don't really have the time for therapy. I have multiple jobs and I'm always working. I've only gotten time off because of dad. I don't even know if I'll be able to update this blog.

Despite that, I'm technically a blog person now. Writing helps people work out these sort of things, like death. That's what my therapist said. Anyway, it's getting late. We have the will reading tomorrow, I don't really know how to feel about that. As the days go on, there's more that showing he's gone for good, but it doesn't feel real yet. I'm just waiting for him to call me and talk longer than needed. I guess the will reading is kind of like that. There almost like his last words to us. So, bye for now? I don't quite know how to end this sort of thing. Well, uh, goodbye.

(2) comments:

Dann0:

cant believe i found this! yor a blogger now, huh? like that bloke timmo back when I was a fresher. sorry bout yor dad, marty. me and the rest of ol' parkside kids are thinking you. see ya in soon mate!

     CptMartinC:

     Thanks, Daniel. I appreciate this.

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Thursday 8 September, 2005

I don't quite know what to say here. Dad's will reading was today. I've been staying with my mum since dad passed, and I drove her up to the lawyer's office today. Simon and Cat met us at the office, and we were told of our father's last Will and Testament. He gave mum mostly everything of course, which is good. Simon and Cat got five thousand pounds each, it's fine for them. He gave me is old van, and his old tool kit, and his multimeter, so I could become an electrician like him.

He hasn't wanted me to be a pilot, not for a long time. Every time I've failed, he pressured me more and more get into the family business. I didn't even want his money, I really don't. But he just assumed I would use it to become a pilot (I probably would've). All I ever wanted was to be a pilot, and and he didn't want that for me. He wanted me to give up, and join him. Every time I failed, he encouraged me to give a different career a try. He even offered to loan me money, which he didn't have, for schooling. Like he did with Simon and Cait. It wouldn't have worked, I would never take his money like that. Especially not But he'd do anything to not have me be a pilot. Anything at all.

He wasn't all bad. In fact, most times we're close. We were close. He said he loved me. He accepted parts of me that almost no one could, even before I could. He's one reason I'm the man I am today. And he actually did supported my interest in aviation, when it seemed like a possibility. He thought it was a bit weird at times, but he encouraged it. There would be times where he would come back from a hard day's work, and he would bring us all little gifts. He would go out of his way to bring us all something nice. He always got me a new toy aeroplane or some new book on aviation. He even once drove us all to Duxford Air Museum as a surprise gift for my birthday. He insisted we tour aviation schools together, hoping I would get into one some day. It never came. He taught me about fixing up cars, working on appliances, and electrical work. He showed me how things worked in our home, and how to develop an understanding of electrical work. He was so proud when I fixed my clock radio all by myself. "Real chip off the ol' block, Wendy?" he had said. I didn't love his lessons, but they've helped me in the long run. I think what Dad really wanted was one of us kids to follow in his footsteps, and take over the Family business.

Time went on, and Simon, having seven years and schooling on me, was already on his way to a career, he didn't have the attention span for it (he did try though). Cait may be younger than me, but she would never do something she didn't want to do. She didn't want to be an electrician, so that left me. I was already failing at my attempt at a career. And I at least showed an interest in what Dad was talking about over the years. Dad sat me down, at my second failed attempt to fly, and discussed with me why I should stop. Why I shouldn't follow my dreams, and join him. Every visit to his and Mum's, he it was argument over this. When I was younger, Mum thought it was cute that I acted as "Dad's Little Electrician", so she didn't seem to mind him pressuring me to quit aviation. After years, Dad finally understood I was never going to stop trying. And then he died. He didn't want that for me anymore. In the end, he didn't think I could do it, which he's probably right about that.

I hate it. I hate that. I just hate it so much. That he just had to stop believing in me about this one thing. The fact I'm an shit excuse for a son and a mistake of a human being, he can love and accept for twenty-eight years. But wanting to be a pilot and not being a to succeed all at once, he can't? His last message for me was to stop trying on my dreams. Not even a note, just a symbol of failure. That I let him down in life and I shouldn't in death. For the rest of my life, I'll know he didn't believe in me. And now he never will never have the chance to. Nothing will ever change that. Maybe he's right. Maybe I'm going to fail at this, just as I do at everything else.

Why couldn't he just hate me. If he just hated all parts of me then I would just hate him and it wouldn't matter. If he was never accepting of this being my reason for living it wouldn't matter. I wouldn't have to care. I wouldn't have to fucking feel this. I want to hate him for making me feel but I can't. I don't understand, it just hurts. Why is it this. Why is it supposed to be like this.

I just miss him so much.

(1) comments:

CptMartinC:

Deleting later. Sorry.

Chapter Text

Friday 9 September, 2005

cant do teh blog updaten tonihgt. did so ething stupid lat night. dom minanthand broken (asnd wall0.

(9) comments:

Dann0

gawd, are u doin that shit agan?

     CptMartinC:

     shut up. sinve wgen do you ever caer?

          Dann0:

          seriously? im the only reel friend youve ever had acept that bitch karen.

               CptMartinC:

               plese dnt talk about karen agan. plse jusr dont.

                    Dann0:

                    that was to far agan, sorry.

DrGlennMarietta:

Message Deleted.

     CptMartinC:

     thanks dr mariettea fr revelaingg all the dark emotilnal problem yu decidedd i hadd          after a second session. i dont thinkyuo should be mentionibg this on my blog?.

          DrGlennMarietta:                   

          Best of luck to you, Martin. Also, we get you a new prescription of testosterone?

               CptMartinC:

               pleease stop