Had a bad weekend. Friday night was horrendous and it just got worse from there. 

Rainy weekend days and cooped up kids and housework and a mountain of washing/cleaning/food/homework to do, do not mix. At all. 

There were tantrums and explosions and bombs going off left right and – well, I was in the centre. There too. I did not cope. I alternately cried my eyes out or shouted my head off. There was no in between. By 6pm i was texting my bump friends and asking for help. I literally couldn’t see an end to the hell our day became. By 10pm we were all in bed. And I had hope.

During the night my little ones nappy leaked and so I woke to a wet patch – and my 8 year old shouting obscenities at his sister while he repeatedly slammed his bedroom door. Then he threw a glass vase and it smashed on the floor. I cleaned the glass up, he cleaned his room. The day pretty much continued in that fashion, someone losing their rag, someone else trying to help, everyone frazzled. By 12 pm I was texting my friends asking for help. Not because I couldn’t do it anymore ( altho that too) but because I didn’t want to. 

I was in a bad way. My friend Sam came to my rescue. She broke everything down into small pieces. Listed them out. Told me when to do what. She saved me from myself. My big boys helped too. They were a godsend in tight hugs just for me. My bestest flesh friend saved me in the evening. She said some very nice things to me, about me. It was an eye opener; made me pause and think. I’ve included it on this entry – because it’s so nice to hear. And it’s my reminder that there are people that care, even if they’re miles away. 

Part of the reason I struggled so was because since our “holiday” I have been coming to terms with the fact that I am alone on this earth. Apart from my kids, and my friends, all of whom live 200+ miles away, I am alone. I have no support, I have no one to rely on or ask to do things, have a cup of tea with, put the world to right with. I have no one. My mum isn’t interested in any relationship bar one on the end of a phone. My sister isn’t interested even in that. My dads perfectly happy with his life and doesn’t need us in it; a yearly visit would be fine. Superdads family are just that. His. Regardless of what they say (we’re here for you), they offer no support in any real way. They don’t babysit, they don’t come round, they don’t call. It’s always me in touch with them and I’m the first left out of something if a better offer comes along, or they have to wash their hair/feet/car/whatever. I’m not being hard, I’m being realistic. Where is my support? The answer is, I have none. I can’t even have the breakdown I’m so close to because there would be no one to watch the kids. And coming to terms with that is a big step forward. 

A big step. I just hope something positive can come out of something so negative. Please? 


The funny thing about posting this picture is it feels like a “look at me” boastful type thing. That’s not why I put it up. I’m still trying to convince myself that I’m allowed to see myself differently from inside my own head sometimes. 

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