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sixymama

Mental, mardy, but a little bit marvellous..

Month

November 2015

A cycle

I’m pretty sure I have a cycle. pond suggested it the other day and I think he’s right. Apart from the obvious Aunt Flo related hormonal ups and downs, I tend to go in weeks. I’ll have a good week – where I can push myself and stay up and not get more than mildly anxious or panicky. Then it’ll slide slowly down until I’m in a bad week. The depths of my despair, wanting to feel as happy as I know I am; to keep the black dog at bay and the clouds from covering me. 

I’d like to curl up and hide when I feel down but mostly I just stay in the house (panic attacks are even less easy to cope with when you’re out and about) and I’ll take care of myself as much as I can. I’ll sleep and stay quiet and cocooned in my little homey bubble and when it comes to the children I super mum it up  once they’re home from school and then I’m in bed the same time as they are.

  
Of course I’m making light of it but it’s relatable, right?! I’ve also been on new anxiety medication that seems to hit me like a ton of bricks one day and not the next. It’s hard to deal with.

If I do have a cycle I need to be okay this coming week. There is much to do and as ever a lack of time to do it in. I had a bad week last week, but I was kind to myself. I took each day slowly and I had support.

This week will be a week for pushing myself, ever so gently – I will be taking the Childers to school in the morning. I have to go shopping on Tuesday. I have crafting to do and lists to stick to and jobs to start (and finish). 

Last week I left the house a few times, suffered maybe 3 panic attacks, got very anxious a few times and super-mama’d my way through at least 4 afternoons. I slept for England, forgot to eat then ate too much, cuddled my babies, laughed with my babies, got decidedly tipsy once and very drunk once too. I read two books and paid all my bills. I bought new Xmas decorations in the supermarket sale and watched Inside Out. And boy, did I laugh and cry out loud at that one! Best film ever, at least that I’ve seen for a bit.

So I know I’ve not been here much – and that will change, it’s a habit I need to get back into. I do share posts on my Facebook page – titled sixymama, ha! 

And hey, it’s nearly Christmas. I have a load of wine and Irish cream in my fridge – there’s that to look forward to! 

  

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Thursday

Another bad day. Well, so far, it’s still the morning. 

I have no motivation. I’m writing it here in the hope that it helps me purge some of this cloud but I’m not hopeful.

I don’t quite know what it is that sucked the life out of me last night but probably got a lot to do with my monthlies.

I want to curl up under a cover and not come out until everything is better.

Differences 

When you’re depressed, the differences between a good week and a bad week are numerous.

On a good week I can leave the house, do everything I need to, remember appointments, talk to people and bounce my way through the world. If I’m not up to bouncing, Tigger like, then I’ll amble, bimble even, along, fairly cheery and chirpy and I will meet the goals I set myself. 

On a bad week I can’t do any of those things. The very thought of leaving the house makes me anxious; my heart hammers, my hands shake, my thoughts race and I get short of breath. I feel tremendous guilt for every perceived failing. I drag my heels, my head down and I forget everything. I can’t talk to people on the phone, all I want to do is sleep. I curl up and I hide away. I feel guilty because I can’t walk the children in to school. I feel guilty because I’m failing at this life thing. I’m a rubbish mum, a rubbish person. I’m a crappy girlfriend and a stupid head and I’m worthless and irrelevant and stupid and horrible and nasty and mean and small and no good.

Ive just gone through two weeks of this. The first was good, a great week for me. Productive and busy and fun. I had a blast; we all did. We did things and we got out and lots of things were managed. I watched what I ate, I exercised. It was good.

Then I had a bad week. I could barely get out of bed. I no longer cared what I ate, what I looked like, I had to have company while I bathed. I need looking after and sheltering, even though I made good healthy homemade dinners for the children I still felt like I was failing them food wise. I worried and I cried and I slept. I slept and slept and slept and it’s amazing what a good sleep can do for your mental health. I was fragile as a snowdrop in a winter storm. Battered and bruised and all in my own head. 

The attacks in Paris happened. I cried. Friday evening was awful. I felt and still feel. My heart breaks, it broke, it is broken, it hurts. For everyone, everywhere. 

I’m coming out of it now. I still feel vulnerable. But I’m getting better. Mr Pond and I went out for dinner and some shopping on Monday and I was okay holding his hand – until he had to go to the men’s room in the restaurant and then it started. Anxious, sweaty palms, heart racing, trembling fear. We went to a local supermarket that I like and walked around slowly until it passed. Then we went home. I survived. This week is going slowly. But it’s going and I can remember bits of it which is a definite improvement. I crafted bits yesterday and I didn’t sleep during the day. Come 4pm I was exhausted and fell asleep while the children had dinner but no matter. I bathed, I washed my hair. I made an effort and it felt good. Today I’m taking as it comes. Sleeping is my one plan.

Chemists and doctors and baths, oh my!

Actually more like a chemist, one doctor, new fridge, my bath, The Wizard of Oz, oh my, oh my! 

Not really.. Although all of the above have applied at some point today. A short story though I promise… And an excuse for this…! 

 

Took delivery of the new fridge freezer this morning. Courtesy of The Family Fund, it has enabled us to return the hire purchase fridge freezer we had and save £20 a week. That’s a lot of money when you’re skint!

My doctor sent my new rescue pills straight over to the chemist. Her words: “there are more creative options for issues like yours these days”. Bless her. Chemist didn’t have them in although a new delivery arrives tomorrow so I can give them a go then. 

 
The 3 children at primary school get to see a production of The Wizard of Oz in school next week. It’s an option for yet more fancy dress so I’ve been poring over the Internet to find creative and original (and cheap!) outfits and ideas for Glinda the good witch, Dorothy and a flying monkey. Or possibly a tin man. Or scarecrow. I’ve not decided BoomBooms outfit yet. I made all the smalls sit and watch the film too. Toddler boy loved it, surprisingly – he spent the whole film saying “Up, Up!” It’s one of my favourites, the small people should learn to love it or I’m not the wicked witch!

I need to be creative and Pin some easy ideas for costumes – my Amazon basket has £76 worth of stuff and that’s without crafty accessories.. And I can’t afford that!  

Dinner went surprisingly well – I spent the entire day Sunday cooking a huge roast so today we had it all in a stew. Best stew ever; I have been known to roast extra potatoes and make extra swede and carrot mash just for thickening and adding flavour to my stew. We had it earlier with fresh French bread dipped in and lashings of melty, yummy butter. It was heavenly.

I’m tired, and I’ve been having a difficult day but I’m happy. Hopefully I’ll sleep well tonight without nightmares and have long snuggly cuddles. Because that’s the best way to relax – in my comfy bed, warm, snuggled up, knowing I’m loved. Also, I have chocolate.   

Family fireworks night

We didn’t do ‘the usual’ for fireworks night. We didn’t go out. We didn’t watch the local fireworks out of the window with the children cooing excitedly over the showers and sparks. Probably the most usual thing we did was to cook sausages and have them in buns. It was so warm here coats weren’t really needed when we did venture out to the garden and the baby was in his pjs and I wrapped him on my front and we were close enough to kiss. We cuddled and he held on to me so tight. He doesn’t like fireworks. He monkeyed on to me; big bangs scare him. They don’t scare the dog; he wanted to make ALL the barks at ALL the fireworks. 

We had a family firework evening. We bought sparklers. Lots of sparklers. We played with them in the garden and watched each other make fizzing circles and fiery lines in the air. 

  
  
  
We had bacon rolls and sausages in buns with lashings of butter and slatherings of ketchup. It was dripping and greasy but it was so good and so satisfying.

We played pass the parcel and listened to Queen. We had pound shop trinkets and sweeties, balloons and crayons and rubbers and puzzle books, pens and teddies and lollipops all layered up into these huge presents. Three presents to last a while and be unwrapped slowly and the penultimate was a brand new, just released, illustrated edition of Harry Potter and The Philosophers Stone. We giggled and laughed and played and mucked about for hours. We had fun. We enjoyed our time together, there were no arguments, no bickering, no upset, just a big ole family getting along and making memories.

  
  
  
So we didn’t do the ‘usual’ fireworks business. We didn’t go to see a show or ooh and aah with thousands of other people at an event. We didn’t have a bonfire or burn a Guy. We didn’t have a barbecue or even baked potatoes. 

Because it’s not where you go, or even what you do. It’s who you’re with that matters. It’s the memories we make and take with us wherever we go. It’s about family and fun times. And my little fam has plenty of those. 

Be kind

Today I have been kind to myself. As I’ve mentioned previously I have a problem with anxiety and depression. I’m not sure if it still comes under the heading of Post Natal Depression since my youngest is 2 now, but whatever it is, and we don’t need to label every little thing, it’s unpleasant. For all of us that have it, and the people around us too.

So today I’ve been kind to myself. 

  
I got up late this morning. Only 20 minutes but when you’re trying to get 3 children ready for school, a toddler up and dressed and remind two teenagers it’s time to get ready, pack bags, find ties etc it can be the difference between twenty minutes lateness at school and being right on time! Still, not the end of the world, but definitely a dip before I’d even started. Heels dragging, head down, I forced myself to get dressed. I got the children ready. I was kind to me, the children were kind to me – my eldest took the 4, 6 and 9 year olds in to school. The 14 year old went to the supermarket and bought me nappies and wipes so I could be in and not worry about the necessities. I was kind to myself; I asked for help. The children were kind, they gave it freely.

  
I tidied up. The toddler and I went about our daily routine – slowly, but we got there. I deep cleaned the kitchen and then the living room. Lots of sweat, lots of work. It looked lovely – it still looks lovely. I was kind to myself; I took my time, and I didn’t give myself any expectations. I just did. No thinking, just doing. I visited the butchers online and ordered a weeks worth of meat. Same for the groceries, online shopping that will last a good week or two. Plans in place for next week to get a big cleaning shop and then top ups after that. Sensible shopping; the way I used to do it. Need to save some money on food shops so I can start picking bits up for Christmas. Kindness to ones self doesn’t always involve the immediate future; it can be kind to take the pressure off yourself next week; next month, even just tomorrow.

  
I got tucked into bed; I get so, so tired. Exhausted after just a couple of hours up like I haven’t slept in weeks. Toddler boy sat in with me – he was in his pram, naughty I know but he likes it for chilling out so I’m okay with that. He watched Pocoyo on Netflix – if your small person has never watched it, I thoroughly recommend. It’s highly entertaining. That lasted long enough for me to talk to the doctor on the phone. She’s giving me a new prescription for ‘rescue’ meds; they will help me to calm when I’m in the midst of an anxiety attack. She renewed my Sertraline and said that I can now get it ordered with the chemist so that I don’t run out again. So that’s that done too; kindness can be keeping myself medicated and in chemical balance.

  
Naps, small people picked up from school, a clean house and my baby. That’s a good day, even when it isn’t. My smalls came home from school well, the 16 year old picked them up. Kindness again. I cooked a Friday meal – easy peasy and something everyone likes. They all ate and off they popped to play. It’s just about bedtime and they’re all chilled and happy. The 4 and 6 year olds are in bed chilling and playing. The 9 year old is drawing, the baby is in bed and the older lads are playing computers. Im freshly bathed and relaxing. My mood is still cautiously lifting. I’m feeling fragile and still somewhat vulnerable but I’m okay. That’s the important thing. It’s been a good day, full of kindness and caring.

  
 Sometimes you have to let go of the expectations and the parental guilt and the hammer you hold yourself with. Sometimes you have to take that sword from over your head and set it down, ready to pick it up again another day. Sometimes you have to draw a line in the sand, climb into your little nest and hide from the world. Sometimes it’s enough to be yourself in the bosom of your family. To be kind to yourself. To be kind to others. Sometimes we all need a little kindness.

  

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