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sixymama

Mental, mardy, but a little bit marvellous..

Month

March 2016

A burgeoning fear

A sleep

A dream

A win, I’m comfy.

A smile

A dimple 

A grin, I’m happy.

Days, nights, no difference in bed

Time is relative. 

Sleep comes and shan’t be denied

A nightmare.

Hide! Hide! Hide! 

The zombies are coming!

I scream 

I shake

My fear is soul deep

Wake! Wake! Wake!

A flutter of lids

Eyes race, escape

Heart hammering high

Listen.

A real awakening

A new day

A smile

A sigh

I have nightmares. Lots of them. Some make sense, others are random. Running themes include the dark, zombies and whatever I may have seen on the tv the last day. Mostly they are weird but if I wake and see something in the corner of my eye.. Ugh! Creepy!

The cat keeps shitting on the kitchen floor

Under the cooker, I smelled it before

Too far to reach, too smelly to leave

The thought of it makes me heave

I want to get away from it. 

It’s hurting my nose, my head.

This smell this place this disgusting mess.

And I wonder what did I do?

To deserve all these disgusting smells and poo?

I live in a house where I’ll go mad

The cleaning the tidying it drives me 

To distraction

The dog shit on the bedroom floor

I know it’s there, I smelled it before

I saw it. 

This little pile of shit, it’s making me heave

I want to get away from it.

It’s hurting my nose.

I hate getting up to a mess and going to bed a mess and being around a mess and having a mess and existing 

I’m the mess.

Every day

It makes me heave it drives me mad

And that. That.

I feel. Bad. 

When crying it out is acceptable

I cried today. Well, not today. Two days ago, actually.

Thanks to Aunt Flo preparing to pay me my monthly visit, I was an utter mess. I didn’t shower or bath for three days. My core temperature was so far up i was a sweaty, slightly rank, mess. I didn’t brush my hair and I didn’t change out of this one pair of pyjamas the whole time. Not a great look.

And so, I cried. I cried it out. That “method” that goes against every mothering instinct when it comes to babies. I did it. I needed it to be me – and it was okay. Because I cried.

(No I’m not advocating the CIO method for your babies, or mine. Not something I’ve ever done or been ok with. Just getting that out there. Okay, and carry on..)

Some women get angry, I alternate between inconsolable ugly crying and small flecks of rage. I’m mostly a bit of a mess. 

I cried because I started bleeding.

I cried because the children went to school and I wasn’t feeling well enough to take them.

The children thought I was grumpy. I cried.

I cried because toddler boy ate 3 bowls of cereal and wanted a fourth and he asked so very nicely.

I cried because toddler boy made me laugh and my smile felt so alien on my face that it hurt.

I cried because I tidied up and it was more of a mess after than before.

I cried because there was a big fat cat in my garden and my dog sat looking at it through the window instead of barking it away.

I cried because the cup of tea I made was yukky by the time I remembered I’d made it.

I cried because toddler boy didn’t want to go to bed for his nap.

I cried because he cried. I stood in the bathroom ugly crying til he quieted. (About 3 minutes).

I cried because Pond asked me if I was okay. I cried even more when he gave me a cuddle.

I cried because I couldn’t toilet properly thanks to period and back pain.

I cried because Pond rolled me up like a sushi roll in a blanket, gave me a book and told me to nap when I needed it.

I cried because I was left alone. Which was exactly what I needed.

I cried because I couldn’t choose between my book and sleep.

I cried when I woke as id slept and could then read my book. Still wrapped up. Still cosy. Still crying.

I cried because I made a joke and Pond laughed.

I cried because I’d worked all our money and bills out in the morning – I’d been worrying about them – then forgot the fact I’d worked them out almost instantly and kept worrying about them.

I cried because I was crying.

I cried because my body hurt.

I cried because the pots weren’t done properly and I had to put a dirty plate back in the sink and I didn’t want to wash it up.

I cried because I couldn’t find something, anything.

I cried because my cat meowed at me and I love her so much.

I cried because toddler boy had a poo and needed changing.

I cried because when I cry I ugly cry.

I cried because my mum needed my reassurance but I couldn’t talk on the phone because – you guessed it – I was crying.

I cried because I wanted chocolate. And I got it.

I cried because Pond was nice.

I cried because my dog is stupid and did not leave my side all day long.

I cried because I finished my book. And moved on to the next one in the set.

I cried because every smile I had was through a filter of tears.

I cried because the noises I make when I cry are hilarious and they make me laugh.

I cried because I didn’t think I could look after anybody.

All day and night I cried, I napped, I laughed and I cried and I napped some more.

And through all of this. All these silly tears – because I thought they were silly – my little family didn’t mind a bit. They showed me in so many different ways that it was okay.

14 year old gave hugs. Text me to ask if I was okay.

9 year old sat with me and made me laugh. She held me while I cried.

Toddler boy hugged me. Every time.

16 year old gave me hugs and shoulder squeezes.

7 year old told me how much its okay to cry.

5 year old gave me hugs and kisses and – left me alone! (She is mama-Velcro normally).

Pond – he told me it’s okay. He also said I looked a bit like Einstein with blue hair, but you know. I’ll take that. I probably did.

I guess the point of this post is that it’s okay to cry, to lose it, to go a little bit crazy.*  And say ‘ohhh’ a lot.

We all do it – some more than others. Ohh!

Mother Nature comes around, and she messes shit up. If Mother Nature doesn’t come around, she still messes shit up. We all get pent up and our emotions get so overwhelming and huge that its impossible to keep them all in. Explosions happen. Big ones. So cry it out. It’s okay.

It’s okay and you will be too, teary or no.

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*Other reasons I cried:

Toilet seat. Spray paint. Floor. Hair. Tired. Tumble dryer. Spots. Tv adverts. Facebook. More cats. Bumps. Babies. Lights. Veins. School. Weight. Hair dye. Pressure. Garden, cats, dogs, strays. Dead cat in park. Period. Pills. Laughing. 

 

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