My father in law passed away on Sunday. It wasn’t completely unexpected as he had been unwell for a while. But it all happened so quickly. A had only spoken to him a few days prior. We got a call Sunday about half 5/6pm from As mum saying she needed him there as she thought it was nearly time. So we got the boys dressed and all got into the car. I dropped him off, rang my sister in law to see if she could take R for the night and not less than 10 minutes after that he was gone.
It still doesn’t quite feel real.
A hasn’t really reacted at all. He hasn’t even cried, I don’t think. I mean, maybe he has already done his grieving. But I do worry about him.
As dad outlived all of the expectations of his illness. He was originally only expected to live for 12 to 18 months. He lasted two and a half years. We were told twice earlier on in the year that that particular day would be his last. But he managed to keep going.
My other concern right now is how to explain it to R. He is only 3, so he is unlikely to understand it. But he needs to be told somehow.
R.S (As dad) was a stubborn old man. He passed mere days shy of his 70th birthday. A birthday he has said for years that he would never make. He had some views that completely clashed with my own. He always enjoyed discussing politics with me as he knew he could get a good debate out of me. And as much as these debates sometimes infuriated me, I kind of loved them too. Despite his sometimes Right Wing views, he loved his family. He adored the boys and his other grandchildren. He would also do anything for those he loved. He helped us out more times than I can count.
R.S. – may you rest in peace. I know you’ll be giving them hell wherever you are now.
Why is my life such a flipping roller-coaster? Seriously, I’m just fricking fed up with it.
One day I’m happy, the next I’m sat on my bed crying into my phone. FYI, tears on a touch screen make it tough to type.
I forgot to put in my repeat prescription, so I’ve been off my meds a couple of days now. That probably doesn’t help.
What also doesn’t help is the lack of help I’m getting at home at the moment. My other half is just not getting it at the moment. I’m home all day by myself, so when he comes home it should really be a relief. That I’ll have another pair of hands when the boys are getting too much. But nope. I have to ask him to do things that I really shouldn’t, things that he should just instinctively go “that needs doing, she has her hands full, so I’ll do it”. Christ, this is not difficult stuff I’m talking about here. I mean things like dealing with a poopy nappy when I’m busy with something else. Taking N away from the nappy bin (his new favourite place…) when he decides he wants to empty it. Putting R in his chair while I’m in the kitchen making dinner or lunch or whatever. It’s not that complicated.
I just feel like I’m drowning.
Also, N has mastered climbing up onto the sofa. So this means he is constantly pulling at the blinds. Which is really annoying.
And now I have a headache from crying. There are so many little things that just seem to pile up.
I keep having dreams about drowning. The one last night was so bizarre, but it felt so real. I was walking through London, Brixton I think. Then all of a sudden there were people running. I didn’t start to follow them until I saw what was coming. A massive wave, at least as tall as 2 or 3 houses. I ran until I came to a big glass building. The wave pushed me up against the building, so I tried to swim up. Every time I got near to the waters surface the tide would rise by another 6 feet. Until it went over the top of this glass building and I was swimming above the roof. Next thing I know, something I’m holding on to begins to pull me down. On my way down, I see someone in the glass building. They urge me to keep trying to get to the surface. But by this point I was too tired (and had been holding my breath for an inexplicably long time), so I just let whatever it was I was holding on to drag me down.
Now, I’m no dream interpreter, but I’m pretty sure it says something about my mental state. Especially the decline it’s taken over recent weeks. I had therapy on Thursday. It was supposed to be my final session, but the therapist decided I needed 4 more, but after those four that’s it. The nhs won’t pay for any more. I simply can’t afford to pay for a therapist privately. So I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I’ve never felt failed by the nhs. In fact, I’m the first person to sing it’s praises. They got me through childbirth twice, gallstones and they have helped me family in more ways than I can count. But in this regard I can’t help but feel a little disheartened. Surely a course of therapy should last as long as it’s needed?
WARNING: Bad language ahead.
Today is going to be a rant. I’m just pissed off at the world today. Mostly over trivial little things. But a lot of trivial little things add up to one pissed off me.
I shall list them in no particular order.
- My other halfs workplace – they have decided to change his hours. Which has totally fucked our evening routine. He used to finish at half 4, get a lift home and be home by quarter to five. Work have decided to change his finish time to 5pm, so he can no longer get a lift home. Its nearly 6pm and he still isn’t home. This happens every fucking night and its really fucking grating on me. I know if he said anything to his workplace they would shrug and say its not their problem. BUT THERE IS NO WORK TO DO AFTER HALF 4 AS THE REST OF THE FUCKING OFFICE LEAVES!!! So why do they have to do this?!
- I’m a big girl. Let me rephrase, I am a fatass. I also have massive boobs. Both are facts I am ok with. I love by body. But you know what really grinds my shit? When I can’t find a single nice bikini to buy to take on holiday with me? Nothing comes up to my size. Because obviously I should want to cover up and hide myself. Maybe I’ll just wear an abaya to the beach. Would that make society happy?!
- On the subject of my weight, I am making an effort to eat a bit better, as I have massively piled on the pounds since having baby N. Why is healthy food so fucking expensive?! We stocked up on veggies and low fat stuff and our grocery bill this fortnight (we shop fortnightly rather than weekly) was so much higher than it usually was. And why, you ask? Because we had less processed foods and more fresh stuff. And people wonder why there is an obesity and obesity related illness epidemic. Make healthy foods more affordable!
- The internet. Just as a whole. It is just one massive clusterfuck of assholes.
- And this, by far, is the most trivial thing of them all. I hate being in a bad mood. So it makes my bad mood worse. IN WHAT WORLD DOES THAT MAKE ANY FUCKING SENSE?!
Ok, so I feel a little better now. I’m just going to go sulk in the kitchen and make dinner.
The last week or so has been a bit crazy. As you, dear reader, could probably tell from my last post I had a bit of a depressive meltdown. In which, for the first time since I was a teenager, I considered suicide. I don’t really know/remember what my rationalisation was for it at the time, but I believe it went something along the lines of my family being better off without me. Obviously I didn’t go through with it and I didn’t hurt myself in any way. But since then I’ve just not been able to shake this feeling. I can’t even tell you what this feeling is, but it’s not right.
I’ve spent most of my weekend sleeping. Whilst my significant other A has been amazingly supportive and has let me sleep when I’ve needed it, I can’t help but feel like it’s been a bit of a waste.
I’ve not had therapy for nearly 2 weeks now, as my therapist hasn’t been about. But I’ve noticed a difference. I don’t have another session until next Thursday now. So more than a week to go. And it’s my last session. If I could afford private therapy I’d do it. But I simply can’t afford it.
I don’t really know what’s going to happen next.
Fuck feeling like shit.
Fuck wanting to cry at every little thing.
Fuck wanting to just eat nothing but junk food, because eating shit is my twisted brains way of trying to make me feel better.
Fuck not moving from the sofa for two days.
Fuck suicidal thoughts.
Fuck thinking my family would be better off without me.
Fuck my mind going at 100 miles an hour, meaning I can’t sleep.
Fuck being so tired I ache.
Fuck not having any motivation to get dressed, brush my hair or do anything to look after myself.
Fuck not wanting to face the world.
This might sound like some rousing battle cry, but this is me just giving up. I can’t control any of this shit. I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m just going through the motions again. Doing what needs to be done for my children. But I’m no mother right now.
I can’t do this for much longer.
Points to anyone who gets the title of this post.
But in reality, I am crashing. And I’m crashing hard. Life has been so awesome lately, so I’ve been on a bit of a high. I always spend the whole time on a high waiting for a crash. So, here it is.
What doesn’t help is that I’ve forgotten to take my meds the last couple of days. Because I’ve been on a high I’ve been mega jittery, which usually leads me to be very scatty.
I don’t know if I should bring it up to the doctor. That when I’m on a high I’m mega jittery. Like I almost have too much energy.
But this crash has hit me hard. I’m trying to keep it together. I’ve already had to put on a brave face as I had to go to the in-laws. Of course the whole family was there. Meaning I had to put my best “I’m ok” mask on.
I took my meds this morning, so hopefully I’ll level out a bit.
I’m just so damn tired of this cycle. I can’t do it for too much longer. What else can I do though? I can’t just end it all. I’ve got my boys. What would they do without me? But maybe they would be better without a mother that can’t be 100% for them.
Oh god, what am I saying. This is absurd.
I need to go lie down or something before I do something stupid.
It seems I’ve neglected this place for a little bit.
I’m doing fine, on the whole. Therapy last week revolved around my grandmother again. I don’t have a session this week as my therapist is on holiday.
Now, I’m only having 6 sessions. And the sessions I’ve had have helped. Having that someone to talk to on a regular basis has been great for me. And my mental wellbeing. But I worry that once I finish this course of treatment that I’ll go back to how I was. Because surely therapy should be an ongoing thing? I don’t know.
On a positive note, I’ve started exercising. I say exercising, what I actually do is I go for a walk every other evening. I’m hoping this will eventually turn into a run. I’ve been using this great app called “Zombies, Run!” and it makes exercising like a game. You follow a story and collect things to help your camp. Now, I’m a bit of a zombie lover (ew, not like that!) so this is right up my alley. It makes my walks fun and something I actually look forward to.
Who knows, I might actually lose a little bit of weight!
I’m having a bit of a bad mental health day today. I can’t seem to pick myself up. My other half has just taken himself and R into town, leaving me at home with N. Which is helping a little. Just giving me some space.
The thing that frustrates me though is when he said “cheer up!” like it’s that simple. He has never suffered with any sort of depression or anything, so he doesn’t understand it. If I could just flick a switch and cheer up, then I’d do it. But right now I feel like I’m in a bit of a black hole. No light coming in. I know I’ll probably feel fine in a day or two. And I’m lucky it’s happening while A is about, so he can look after the boys should I need it.
I hate feeling like this. I was on a bit of an up after my last therapy session and speaking to my mum about it, that this sudden crash has knocked me for six a little.
I’m just so tired. Feeling so useless.
After my blog post last night I had a very long and very emotional chat with my mum about my Nannys death. She was very understanding and we had a wonderful conversation about her. We spoke about how she would love the grandkids, and how my mum wishes she could speak to her again too. And how if she were looking down on us what she would be trying to tell us.
It was really nice to talk to mum about it. Especially with the anniversary coming up. Makes me realise I’m not alone in missing her, despite many years having passed since she left us.