‘Quite a few people lately have told me that I’m brave, strong, etc etc. Not today. Today I mostly stormed about the house in absolutely vile humour, trying (and failing) to find something, anything to calm myself down. Nothing worked. I shouted at the kids. Repeatedly. I ranted at Hubby. I shouted at myself. I hit myself. I was extremely angry and generally not nice to be around. Brave and strong? That didn’t feature today. Today I was mostly shi*ty. For today at least, be very glad that you only know me via the interweb’
That was my status update on facebook last night. And of course, the interweb came to my rescue, mostly to remind me that I’m being too harsh on myself. Maybe that’s true. Ok, I know it’s true. But, what I’m trying to convey, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to get it across right so bear with me, is that throughout yesterday, however things might have looked from the outside, it was an absolute nightmare in my head. To be fair, I did well in the morning. I went for a short run, and that carried me through a few hours. I even managed to do the shopping with an incredibly tempestuous 3 year old in tow (apple didn’t fall far from the tree with my girl). But it all went steadily downhill in the afternoon.
There are a couple of significant emotions that stand out at the moment. Anger is one, but I’ve given that a lot of time already, I don’t want to talk about it right now. But another, one that’s feeding off the anger, is just as problematic. Guilt. Massive, all encompassing, stomach churning, for any reason it can think of guilt. Mostly it’s around the kids, and then filters out to Hubby and whoever else happens to be around, in this case, my Dad. The basic gist of it is that no matter what I’m doing, it’s the wrong thing. I’m not sure what the right alternative would be, all I know is that I’m wrong. It’s very neat really, and easy to apply to any situation at all. Mostly it’s around the kids and that I’m not present enough for them, doing enough with them or that my mood is having a seriously detrimental impact on them. It paralyses me. It makes it impossible to make even the simplest of decisions, because at the back of my mind is the little voice telling me that the exact opposite of what I’m suggesting is actually a much better plan. So then I stop to think about what that opposite might be, and instantly, the first plan becomes the better option. Bottom line is I just can’t win with myself right now, and it’s exhausting. There is a constant shouting match going on in my head.
Mostly, I would really, really like to be left alone. Hubby has told me countless times that as long as there is help here, I can go and do whatever I want. Guilt won’t let me. I realise how ridiculous that sounds, I really do, but that’s how it is. Maybe I’m just finding it harder to handle right now after the sense of hope and positivity that came after being heard by the psych last week. There’s no doubt the prospect of things starting to improve gave me a huge lift. But yesterday served as a serious reminder that I have a long, long way to go, and I’m impatient for this journey to be over now.