I don’t want to do it anymore. I don’t want the therapy. I don’t want to talk about my insecurities. I don’t want to expose myself anymore. I want to quit counselling.
She’s lovely, but I want to run. I want to hide and I want to stay silent. I can’t do it JUST LEAVE ME ALONE
I’m too embarrassed, too ashamed. I’m too pathetic. Can we just stop. I need to stop!!
It feels too raw, too uncomfortable, too hard.
I’ve never really felt like this in therapy before. Is it just too much now, whilst being a new mum. Am I already spinning too many plates or am I just scared? Scared of failure at it, scared of being silently judged, scared off saying too much……or too little.
Wow 500 posts, I can’t believe it. I never knew when I started a few years ago that I’d still find blogging cathartic. I know people read it, but it’s very much a blog for me. I dump my thoughts here, some of which I could never say out loud.
So what shall I talk about in my 500th post?
Sorry followers I know we’re all sick of it, but it has to be COVID. See getting dangerously I’ll, having a child and recovering from a C-section isn’t quite enough for me. I thought I’d catch covid too….
Bloody hell, what timing!! It’s all the in-laws fault! After 2 odd years of escaping this thing, I finally got a positive notification this morning. It’s spreading through the family and I became unwell over the weekend. Fingers crossed it doesn’t floor me. More importantly, fingers crossed it doesn’t hurt my little men.
I am worried about bubs, but what can you do? We’ve stocked up on Calpol.
So far I’ve experienced what feels like a bad head cold. I had a fever yesterday, but it’s gone today. Sore head, ears, throat and a cough. Some chills and muscle aches. Feeling a bit better today in comparison with yesterday. I hope that’s it.
I’m booked in to deliver baby on Sept 22nd. I’m not ready! I’m freaking out! I don’t want to do this!
I’ve been prepping. Washing little mans old baby clothes, buying new stuff, sorting a crib, new car seat, cleaning our old travel system, buying little toys, food prep essentials, cute blankets, cute hats and off course hospital bag essentials. You’d think this would bring me some joy, some excitement, anything….. but it doesn’t. I’m like a robot going through the drill, but I’m really dreading it all. Right now I want him out of my belly, but not back to my house. How awful is that?
I’ve had multiple scans and I fight back tears at every single one. I look at the screen but I don’t want to. I listen to the doc explain positions, heartbeat and healthy signs but I just want them to shut up.
I don’t want to be a mum anymore. I just don’t think I can. I’m exhausted, I’m scared and I’m not ready.