Second post of the day. Please feel free not to read it, but my mind is racing and I’ve got to try and do something to make it better. Since I last wrote, the day has pretty much been a lost cause. I didn’t get up. I stayed in bed, and fell asleep for the best part of two hours. When I eventually got up it was after 3, and it took me almost another hour to make myself some lunch. Another half hour of prevaricating after that I took the dogs out for a walk in the hope that that would help. It didn’t. They haven’t been getting enough exercise lately, were wired, and spend most of the time pulling my arms out of my sockets. I came home to find that the housework fairy is on strike today and my house looks like a bomb hit. And that’s pretty much it, I’ve spent most of the rest of my time since then contemplating the fact that I need to get up and straighten this place out, but being completely unable to do so.
I cannot tell you how frustrated I am right now. I hate wasting my time, I absolutely hate it. And yet somehow, today, it’s almost 6pm and I’ve nothing to show for the day. The beds aren’t even made. There are piles of washing at various stages of processing all through the house. Both dogs are shedding, there’s hair everywhere. As for the bathrooms? Enough said. I can’t talk myself into doing anything, and I can appreciate how ridiculous that must seem to any of you reading this who’ve never gotten into a hole as horrible and unforgiving as this, but genuinely, I might as well be trying to get myself to run a marathon right now.
|Except I have a laptop in front of me (Credit: Allie Brosh)|
I can’t find me. I remember times when I had energy, when I was focused, when I could look at a mess and know what steps I needed to take to clear it up. When I was motivated to look after myself. When I was actually a relatively nice person to be around. Today, I’m mostly just glad Hubby and the kids aren’t here to bear the brunt of this. Today is an almost exact repeat of last Sunday, just minus the audience. How much longer do we have to put up with this? How much longer to I have to be a shadow over my house and a source of stress and anxiety for my family? And most of all, how much longer till I can start living again? I’m already dreading next weekend when all four of us are here again.
I’m sorry to be so doom and gloom today, I really am. But for all of you who think that I’m brave, or strong, or courageous or anything else worthy, this is my reality. I’m not a nice person to live with. Spin it any way you like, I’m someone it’s far easier to support from a distance than up close. I hope Hubby and the kids are properly spoiled and looked after the next few days, they need a break from all of this as much as I do. I hope tomorrow is better.