I feel almost whole again. I attribute far too much self worth to my career, but oh my word, I’m happy to be back at work.
I’ve just completed day two off my new job, and the staff could not have been any friendlier. I feel instantly at home, which is a huge relief.
The pressure will start to kick in next week when the students arrive. I will quickly assume senior level responsibilities but I’m hopeful that I’ll cope.
I’m harsh on my parents if truth be told. They never did ’emotions”. I blame my upbringing to some degree for my current emotional instability, but I do know that they loved us.
They would show this love, not through hugs and kisses, not through hours of play or help with homework, or encouraging pats on the back, but oh my word at Christmas!! We were spoiled at Christmas, ruined in fact. Our living room floor would mimic a toy store. My parents were never rich. They worked long hours for minimum pay, and would have to scrimp and borrow, but at Christmas, myself and my sister would have all the must have toys, gizmos and gadgets. I can recall that one year, Santa even brought a horse!!
And to this day, that’s how love is shown. Tonight my mum secretly handed me a wad of cash. A thick wad, that I know she can’t afford.
I took it though (albeit uncomfortably) because I now know what it stands for. She’s proud of my new job, of my latest achievement and in her own unique way, she loves me.
I only wish she could just say those words.
I’ve just had a shower. It’s a bad sign for sure when you start to pick up on your own “odour” I hadn’t washed in days and no one thought to prompt me.
Today, after an entire day lying and sobbing in bed, I figured “go one loopy, try a shower; it might help”. Although my mood is much the same, there is something pleasantly therapeutic about flushing days of grime down the plughole.
Today both my body and my mind failed me. Each time I tried to rise, they literally crumbled under the sheer weight of life, or at least my perception off it, and all its mysery. I felt a sadness today, that almost drove me to dangerous actions. I felt a level of hoplesness, and indeed still do, that I believe will be my undoing. I want to die. I want to end all these turbulent thoughts once and for all, but I want to do it in such a way, that won’t hurt anyone….
Impossible right? I’m stuck.
I have come to a decision though. If my job offer (a massive part of my identity and sense of “self”) is indeed resinded, I shall kill myself and I shall do it right. .
It will hurt both OH and little man, but ultimately me not being around, would be much better for both of them.
This time last year, I genuinely feared that my son hated me. One year on and I have a total anaconda on my hands!
Teeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!; I hear bellowing relentlessly around the house. I hope he always calls me Tee.
He clutches to my leg and wraps himself around me, he demands that only I take him for his pee pees and ony I will do at bedtime. There is no doubt that he loves me, no doubt that he sees me as his protector and play mate, but oh my word; it’s exhausting!!!!
I assume this clingy phase will pass.
We don’t sleep together much, OH and I. It’s a combination of his low libido and my new found depression induced self hatred and lack of confidence.
I bring it up occasionally, and last Thursday night during pillow talk, I suggested that tonight (saturday) we’d have some scheduled sexy time. The only caveat was that he must make the moves. He agreed.
Tonight we’ve gone to bed a little early. He’s climbed in, turned his back to me and is now spark out. It’s an all too familiar story. It’s one that crushes me every time.
Am I so ugly and undesirable? Am I really that repulsive???
I shall just knock myself out instead.
A year ago today; I wrote a note and swallowed pills. I wanted to die. Thankfully panic took over and I called 999.
I can’t believe it has been a year. I can’t believe I had a proper mental breakdown and not 1 but 2 psychiatric ward admissions. I can’t believe that 1 year on, we’ve left work, moved home, and I’m just about to take on “my dream job” back on Irish soil.
I think off those women and men that somehow brought me back from the brink regularly. The amazing psych nurses, support workers, psychologists and care co-ordinators that dug me out off hell, and gave me hope.
I really should send them a thank you.
1 year on, and I’m hopeful. 1 year on, I’m a little stronger and as I type this, I have zero suicidal intent. 1 year on and myself and OH are stronger, and my love for little man is beyond anything; I’d ever imagined possible. That boy is my greatest achievement, and oh my word, I’m so proud off him.
Let’s hope the next 12 months are kinder to us all.
We deserve happiness.
Today was my first day alone with little man (since our move home) as OH began his new job. Grandparents were also away, so it was a true test of my abilities.
I’m very very relieved, to report that we had fun. His tantrums didn’t rock me and his smiles and laughter filled my heart with joy.
Today was a good mood dat, and on those days I’m in control, I’m confident and I’m fun. I only wish that every day could be a good mood day.