Great. A massive argument during the night. Blue chickens may be funny or at least a little amusing to most but when your spouse, i.e. me, wakes up shouting and screaming about a blue chicken with a bomb trying to kill your family, things change. I really did try and get everyone out of the house, not funny. The kids were terrified and crying, not proud of myself. I wasn’t even drunk or drinking. Jason is inconsolable, poor little bugger, I will never, ever forgive myself.
I’m writing this at work after many, many phone calls from Emma. The older boys are OK, well a bit OK, they remember when I was a bit weird and drunk just after I left the Navy. Jess and Jason, well, my heart is wrong.
Emma is serious about me seeking help, not sure, it’ll pass I hope.
Hoping a take-away and watching something funny on TV might lighten the load a bit, new Ricky Gervais series tonight, Emma likes him. And I hope that I can build some bridges. I could blame it on night terrors I suppose, take some diazepam, I think Emma has some kicking around from when she prescribed after Jasons birth. They effect me in the way I think I need right now, that is they send me to sleep and keep me that way.
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