My boys love me, but they don’t need me. The heartiest of laughs is usually heard when I’m not in the room, but listening from afar. OH does the dressing, feeding, bathing etc 90% of the time anyway. I don’t contribute fairly. I’m useless.
It’s funny how a few fleeting thoughts can become an obsession. What drugs do I have? How much do I need? When should I take them? It plays over and over and over relentlessly.
Little man is 4, and I reckon he’s a pretty damn competent 4 year old. I heard him rattling about downstairs today and I’ll be honest, I ignored him. He’s always rattling about.
Eventually I went down. “What are you doing wee man?…”Mammy, I’m making an apple pie. He made a good start I reckon. Got himself a sharp knife from the drawer, grabbed the fruit bowel and began chopping!!
It’s not the first time, I’ve caught him with the knives, and I’ll be honest, I don’t panic or snatch them off him. What I will do is stand and watch as he cuts, and daddy does that too. Bananas are easy, oranges well the skin is tricky but he did it, and cutting apples, well little man that shows some damn good skills right there. Ps this was all chopped before I caught him.
I’m crying a lot. Everything is upsetting me and I can feel my bouts of rage returning. I’ve been tapering off my meds. I’m afraid they’ll harm bump, but I’m now starting to worry that I might harm bump and me…..I’m very low tonight.
On a positive note though, I’m also laughing again. I’d kind off lost that ability over the past few years. Mood stabilisers don’t just dull the lows, they also rob you off joy. I used to be a proper belly laugher, finding comedies and comedians hilarious, but the drugs slowly robbed me of that. So even though the lows are coming back, so are the belly laughs.
And lunchtime, and dinner time and evening sickness.
It’s a good sign for my little bump, but oh god I feel horrid and I know there’s worse to come.
I don’t want to feel sick anymore, except I kind off also do. It means hormone levels are rising, it’s a good thing Loopy!
My cousin who is just a little younger than me had a miscarriage this week. I know how that feels, and I know she’s devastated.
Don’t complain about the nausea Loopy, be thankful
In other news our family social worker has left her post and didn’t even bother telling us. I think that’s pretty shitty to be honest. She has moved on to greater things, I’ve been told. Some people are truly excellent in these types of roles (I know I’ve met some outstanding individuals over the years) but others really should piss off and do something else.
I know for many that this year has been really tough. I know that loneliness and isolation have taken there toll.
I’m thankful though, for Covid Not for the illness or for lives tragically lost . I’m thankful for the opportunities it gave me. I’m thankful for my extra time with little man. Time that strengthened our relationship and bond. Time that built my confidence with him.
I’m thankful for the working from home. It enabled me to cope, to function just enough to fulfill my role. No commuting pressure, shorter days, and the ability to just hide away.
As I ring in 2021, I’m lying here with my little man beside me. I love him, and he loves me.
Don’t be scared off 2021 loopy, just be thankful.
Happy new year everybody. Stay safe and if you can, just for a moment, be thankful.
I scoffed, I puked and I wept. Scoffed some more, puked some more and wept some more.
Tonight my arm is scorched white. I want to use an iron, a clothes iron, but I’ve resisted. Hair straighteners brought that wonderful sense of calm. The pain is so intense, that the calm feels all that sweeter.
I’m disgusting, I’m ugly and I stink. Literally stink. Bathing has felt all too much lately.
I want to buy Liraglutide. The Orlistat simply isn’t cutting the mustard.