Boy, watching the vote and the singing in the parliament really hit hard.
Black dog, alcohol and my collection of swear words (it’s rather big knowing Danish, Norwegian, Swedish, German, French, English and spot of Spanish and others) is going to get a hammering over the next few days.
Sadly I can’t go full out cause that would just tip Peli over the edge, and that ain’t place I want to end up.
Thanks Brexit and Tory voters for the last 3 and a bit years full of sleepless anxiety riddles days, with healthy dose of depression sprinkled on top. It has made that last few family gathering, “joyful” full of anger management.
Lucky my UK family have voted to stay, but we can’t talk about anything without it spinning back to our situation and their loss of EU citizenship etc.
We haven’t been on a good holiday or small break since 2016. Cause it takes more than half of the time off, to somewhat forget and then it is still just lingering in the back of our heads. To then slam right back – left, right and center – with buzzing/blinking neon lights and fog horns into our lives again. So not much time to reminisce.
Seeing/hearing and living in fear that very good friends of mine are the result of yet another racist attack.
Along with the many “cheerful” conversation with my mum – who is a bit of an anti EU person, but do see the great things it have given herself, me and Europe – who I can clearly hear in her voice, that she is seriously worried about our mental health.
Fuck me I’m not looking forward to this weekend.
BOLLOCKS TO THE FUCKING LOT OF THEM