I have three settings at the moment – depths of despair (proper, heart wrenching, sick to my stomach, can’t breath despair), reasonably normal, and insane, borderline uncontrollable, anger. The changes between these three states are lightening quick, and completely unpredictable. And of course, the reasonably normal setting is brief and elusive.

So far I’ve been awake a little over an hour. Let me give you a brief run through – I slept reasonably well, and got up to get the kids dressed. M didn’t want to – flashpoint number one and I had to walk away. Then she wanted to make her own porridge, which she decided she didn’t like because I helped her. Followed by the usual bout of ‘I don’t want to go to school because (insert any reason at all here. Today? I don’t like the stories) repeated at volume. I’m reasonably confident that any parent with small people will recognise the above scenario. It’s nothing unusual, and ordinarily I would just ignore it. But today?  Today, I’m just about holding it together and FUMING. As Hubby goes to drop them off, I have to tell him to give me a wide berth when he comes back – nothing to do with him but I don’t want to snap for no good reason and take it out on him. All this emotion, all this turmoil, within 40 minutes of waking, for no real reason at all.

Anyway, they leave, I stamp around the house unable to find the laptop (eventually locate it under the cushion which is under the small dog), come upstairs, and watch this. And boom, we’re back to tears. Honestly, I’d take tears over anger any day. Tears leave me almost paralysed, but the anger scares me, because I have to keep it in. I cannot and will not take it out on those around me. But holding it in makes me feel like a pressure cooker and eventually something will give. Thankfully this morning’s give came in the form of a heartstrings video which made me cry, but it could equally have been me punching a door. This is the impulse control thing I’ve talked about with Therapist. The pain of punching the door works because it distracts my brain from the anger and forces me to concentrate on something else. But it’s hardly a viable solution and really just leads to a whole other world of problems if I continue to act on it. So instead, I write. A lot, as you may have noticed over the last week or so. I have to get it out somehow.

When Hubby came home from work yesterday I was a wreck. He’s taking the kids away to Kildare for the weekend to give me some space, and was so kind about it that of course, of course, it had me in tears again. As did the creme egg across the floor incident. Kindness is my undoing at the moment, I quite literally cannot handle it.

Want to see instant waterworks?? Say something really nice to me (please not in public though. We’d all be embarrassed)

I was feeling massively guilty, both because I hadn’t done enough around the house yesterday (???!) and because I felt I was forcing him out of the house for the weekend. To which he had some very logical responses – if he had the flu, and I came home to find the breakfast dishes still on the counter, would I be pissed off? Duh, no, he’s off sick. Secondly, the kids are now going to be spoilt rotten by not one, but two sets of doting grandparents and an adoring aunt all weekend. Hardly punishment.

So there you have it. We’ve now christened this little storm we find ourselves caught in the nutjob flu. Symptoms are everything I’ve described above, and the only cure is time, space, and quiet. Later this morning I’m going to meet a few lovely friends for a natter and a hot chocolate, and I just know that they will lift me firmly out of my head for however long I’m with them. After that? More quiet. More walking. More yoga. I just need to ride it out.

This article has 10 Comments

  1. Nutjob flu – perfect ! I know that anger you talk about. It's frightening and leaves me full of guilt when I settle back down -. 'How could I be so angry with a small child, why do I hate everything he does when I feel like that'. My worst guilt comes from when I let out snide remarks at my beautiful teenager and put him down. Its like I want them all to feel as bad as me 🙁 Not my proudest moments and I try hard to pull myself up when I feel like that and walk away. My teen understands, we talk about it, but he has enoigh to deal with as a teen without 'bitchface mum' to deal with ! So I walk away (mostly).
    Writing is a great outlet for that anger. And walking really fast listening to loud music for me or baking 🙂 Beating eggs by hand gets a lot of energy out (and does less damage than kicking my bedroom door or wall!)
    The fact you can put in writing and share what you are going through is huge. It may not seem so now, but I think it is a great achievement.
    Small steps, be kind to youself, you need this time to heal. And you will x

    1. The anger is so scary. It used to be there all the time, and would come out every single day, although thankfully (?!) I only ever took it out on myself and not the kids. Hubby did come in the firing line a few times, but I think (hope) I kept the worst of it from him. Writing helps so much, as does walking and loud music. I generally have help baking so that can be more infuriating!!! The product of baking though – that always helps x

    1. It's so strange, isn't it?? I guess we're so used to the negative inner commentary, it's kindness that we really need, but sometimes it's just too much to handle. That said, every kindness induced cry I've had (esp the last few days) has ultimately helped me inch closer to feeling better. You do a phenomenal job, just phenomenal If anyone in this world deserves kindness, it's you xx (hope that didn't make you cry. And if it did – hugs!!)

  2. Will you not be afraid in the house all week end by yourself? Ougherard is soo rural. Would love to know how ye ended up living there. So out of the way. Is it worth it when extended family are so far away and ye could do with the family support.

    1. It was incredibly hard here at first Betty, for years we knew hardly anyone. But is it worth it? Absolutely. I've found an incredible group of friends. I feel more at home here than I ever did in the town where I grew up. For sure I miss my family, and when the kids were smaller that was beyond difficult and pushed us to breaking point. But wild horses wouldn't drag me back east now! Oughterard is beautiful – it sounds clichéd but the natural beauty around here is one of the things that always calms me (despite the weather!). And no, never afraid by myself, not anymore. Years ago I would have been, but not now. I have my dogs for company at night, and any number of people I can call on if I need help. It's all good!

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