I heard it bellowed in the airport, once the initial confusion passed, and he realised Mummys home!!!
My little man embraced me, with the best cuddle I’ve ever had. He smiled, and giggled and held my hand tightly. After 11 weeks of distance, I was worried, but I needn’t have been.
It was exactly what I needed. It was exactly what he needed. We’re a family again, and one that I must work harder to sustain. I must do better for you.
I love you little man, and I’ll always be your Teeeeee!!!
The last time I saw my little man in the flesh, was as I waved goodbye to him at the psych hospital door. It has been 11 weeks and although I’ve face timed him, I’m not sure how he will receive me tomorrow.
I can’t wait to hug him, and tell him that I love him, but I’m also terrified that our bond is irreparably broken.
I feel like I abandoned him (again). I feel like he was happy during my absence and thus would be better off without unstable me in his life. I feel so much guilt, for almost leaving him permanently during my last dumb overdose. I really could have died, and yet sitting here now waiting for what tomorrow will bring, I’m craving sleeping pills, or self harm, or………. something to stop my racing head. I need better coping mechanisms. I need help.
My little man deserves a better mum. I hope, with all my heart that I can be just that…….
What if I fail again?
It was bad enough when I was working, but now that I’m unemployed, I really can’t afford to be impulse buying……
Try telling that to my brain. It’s 9.30 pm and I’ve just come back from a bike ride. This little jaunt was not for exercise or pleasure. NO at 8.30 I decided I needed new bed covers, and NO it can’t wait until tomorrow… Sainsbury’s would have some (damn you Sainsburys!!), and try as I might to resist the urge; I failed!!!! At least I burned some calories..
Oh come on, who doesn’t love new sheets!
I can’t explain this but I have this awful niggling feeling that I’m going to die soon. It’s a feeling that comes and goes, but tonight it’s quite strong.
I can see the devastation on OH and little man. I can see my family crowding round my coffin at my wake. I can see a doctor confirming that my cancer is terminal. I can see it all.
I’m having little chest pains tonight, which I guess are fueling my thoughts a little
Do other people think like this? I don’t like it.
My father has always been the more affectionate of my parents. He has tried to shower us with kisses and hugs and warmth at times, and I’ve always awkwardly recieved them, often pulling away from him.
That is how my mum reacts and that is how I’ve learned to react. It seems a little cruel to me now, that I’ve essentially shot him down so many times, despite wishing my mum would act more like him.
Psychology has helped me to realise that my father really loves me, and that I give love, much like he does. I will no longer shoot him down. I will hug him with all my might, I will phone him more, and I will end every call, with ;”I love you too Dad”.
I’ve already started, and you know what; it’s awesome…
I love you Dad!!!
Today I’m on my own for the first time since my last hospital discharge. OH is away to see our son (who is staying with grabdparenrs) and he has a job interview tomorrow.
I’m flying over on Saturday morning. It will be the first time I’ll see little man since April 3rd.
I’m nervous, more than just nervous and today I’m alone.
Damn it Loopy, turn your head off. Go distract yourself. Do not do anything stupid!!
Yesterday I had an anxiety filled day. I went to meet a friend for coffee. I’d forgotten how uneasy I would feel on the train. Paranoia took hold, and I could feel a thousand eyes glaring at me.
Last night in bed, my head raced, and I once again found myself googling zopicline.
I didn’t buy any, but I came close. This particular demon is hard to shake