222. Kick me when I’m down

“You should think about going down to 50% until September” Those where the words that spilled from my boss’s mouth this morning, during a meeting that I had to request, in order to discuss how I’m doing on my phased return.

They stung! You’re no good to me now Loopy, you can’t handle anything and it’s costing us too much, is what I heard. All I needed was a supportive, “you can do this” but instead the last remaining shred of optimism for my future was ripped away.

I’m a burden, I’m incompetent and I’m very nearly done.

Tonight’s little sleeping pills are the same brand as those I used in August. It’s the first time a pharmacy has dispensed the same kind, in all these months. It’s a coincidence that they arrived today, on a day when I want to consume them all. I don’t have enough though, so I’ll just have to settle for a slightly comatosed sleep.

I have no capacity for stress, no tolerance for the all to familiar stares from other commuters, no cut off valves, when my face decides to spontaneously leak and no hope that this will ever change.

I wish I could see my old CPN. She’d know how to make me feel a little better. God I wish she’d come back…..

Loopy x

219. The hardest thing to let go off.

In the quest for better mental health and a better life balance, I’ve made some huge changes. What may surprise you, is the thing that I’ve found toughest to let go off.

IRONING!!!!! I’m an obsessive ironer. Every little item packed in little man’s nursery bag was maticoulsly pressed, and folded. It was ironed again if staff disrupted his bag through out the day

My work clothes were also pressed into oblivion, and I couldn’t leave for work if I noticed a rogue indentation.

Creases made me cringe. Creases induced anxiety and frustration. Creases were my nemesis. Creases noticed on other commuters clothes irritated me, and honestly made me think a little less off them.

During my stay in hospital, it was not the patient outbursts, lack of liberty, mediocre food or lack of mental stimulation that tortured me.

No!, by far the hardest thing to cope with, was those gut wrenching moments when I had to remove my laundry, all wrinkled and deshevelled from sitting in a dryer over night. I remember once asking the nightstaff if I could get my clothes at midnight. The dagger stare that I was met with, whuch screamed: piss off, was rage inducing. What they didn’t know was that leaving my clothes to wrinkle overnight, meant sleep was hard to come by, as the anxiety took hold.

The thing about ironing and ‘re ironing after every wear, is that it eats up soon much time. It takes away from time spent with little man and OH. It reduces down time, and for what????

So I’ve let go off ironing. I no longer steam little man’s clothes obsessively,. I allow myself weekends in slightly wrinkled clobber.

As for my work clothes????? Well come on now. YOU HAVE TO IRON WORKWEAR!!!

Loopy x.

215. 3 little puddles.

The battle lines were drawn. He glared at me steadfast, and confident. There was only ever going to be one winner here.

No I will not use a spoon today Mummy! I will eat my beef and mash on my terms, or I shall starve!!!!!

You’ve got to admire the stubberness off a 2 year old. We can usually count on him to swallow grub without protest, handling cutlery like a pro.

Some battles are worth fighting and simetimes when sleep depruved and alone it’s just easier to wait whilst this little human, slowly and infuriatingly sucks beef and mash from a 5ml paracetamol syringe.

This evening would be spent powerhosing every nook and cranny of his little pudgy arms and legs. There was much fun had running and rolling down sand dunnes and I knew that he would harbour kilograms of the stuff and gleefully sprinkle it on kitchen tiles, staircase carpets and bedroom floors upon our return home. I will deal with that tomorrow!!!

Now though, it’s bath time. A whiff of something in the air indicated the need for a gentle pre wipe. I whipped his nappy off, dealt with his thoughtful little gift, and stood him, bare bummed and smiling by our bath.

I quickly nipped out to grab his PJ’s and upon my return, there they were, glistening and golden on my bathroom floor;

3 little puddles………….

Loopy x