Sorry. The running joke, of course, is that my parents have one brain cell between them, and that only one of them can have it at a time. I've just sat through a fantastically horrible conversation where it bounced from one to the other like an enthusiastic jumping bean, occasionally leaving one of them mid-sentence so you'd get, "It must be so hard for you to deal with, getting panic attacks like you do, but of course, panic attacks aren't real, they're all in the mind - I'm sure you do it on purpose." By the end of the discussion (which was mostly just mum and dad talking at me, for obvious reasons) I'm not sure a single sentence either of them got out made any kind of logical sense. They were both tired, and drunk.
Nothing they said tonight was as cruel as some of the things they've said in the past. Little things, tonight, building up into a big accusational hand pointing at me and saying, "You're making all this up just to get attention. We don't believe anything you say." And then at the same time a huge comforting hand of, "We'll get you the help you need. We're trying hard to understand, and we know it's really very hard for you." As I said earlier, no wonder I'm a little messed up inside. And no wonder I'm so exhausted, either.
Thank god, thank god, they leave tomorrow. Morning. Early. ~wearily does the getting-the-house-to-herself-again dance~