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sixymama

Mental, mardy, but a little bit marvellous..

Unhappy zombie

Why can’t my brain be happy for me and leave me alone? Can’t it go eat itself and leave me alone?

The paranoia has started. It’s racking itself up to ten. It’s been low level all week, how I might be getting in the way of any alone time or perhaps he might just want to chill after work or maybe he’s fed up with the noise of the children, that sort of thing. I got presents for our 4 weeks of knowing each other, not sure he liked them, or I liked them or even if they were good presents. What if he hated them? I try to be thoughtful but what if it’s just weird and a bit rubbish? Paranoia is hovering, low level, around a 2-3. 

The children and I made a mess at Mr Fantastics house. Not purposely, mud from the garden on the carpet. Paranoia up to 4.

Then I found two live lice in my sons hair. So totally paranoid and up a few more.

Then when we were talking on whatsapp this evening things got a bit steamy then he was typing and… nothing came up. My brain says my text hasn’t been read so it couldn’t have been left open? He said he was drifting off but then it happened again.. I replied, he typey type typed.. nothing. Then a reply comes through and my message is read all at the same time and it’s literally the same second. So it totally makes sense doesn’t it and his phones ever so old and quite slow and… I know. But paranoia is all the way up to 10 now and running for the hills screaming and I’m too tired to deal with it. I tried not to be funny with him but I don’t know if I managed it. I’m not feeling well.

Why does my brain hate me? Why can’t it just let me be happy and secure and content in this lovely little bubble he and I have fallen into, this deliciously cosy, two person wonderland that makes all the things brighter than they are usually, that makes the world seem to want me in it, that makes me want to be a part of the world and of life and of normality and relationships and friendships and to get my shit together and plan and make plans with others and feel like it’s proper to do so because THERE WILL BE A TOMORROW and I will be in it? Why does it have to question everything? Why can it not just accept that someone might love me? And not have an agenda or an alternate reality to mine? That someone could love me and want me and actually be the person they seem to be and say they are? Why does it not accept that? What’s so wrong with me? 

I’m a sad face and my heart is cold. It aches to be in his arms and safe and loved and secure. And I’m on my own again. If you’re reading this, Mr Fantastic, then I’m sorry. This IS crazy. And I love you 💜

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Tuesday 

It feels like an age since I was here and it’s only been a few days (not even that) really. I have the guilts and feel like maybe I’ve been neglecting you guys here. 

Tia the foster dog left on Monday. That was so hard. I miss her. My cats all came and slept in the house that night for the first time since she got here.

Superdad is showing his true colours again, what a surprise.

Hmm. My head is so full I don’t know where to start even. My heart wants to burst. I’d like to shout from the rooftops but acrophobia and social anxiety.. funny huh.  

When I got into bed this evening (after being gone through the evening) jack cuddled right into me, like he had had an horrendous evening and he missed me even in his sleep. Beat that for feeling like a great mama – even in his sleep he wants me to make him feel safe. Big grin all round for that one.

The others were fast asleep. I’ve spent more time out the house and away from them and it’s showing in the rest of the time. 

Mr Fantastic described anxiety for him as having a head  full of bees. For me it’s a chest full. That resonated with me, that someone understands so completely how you feel. 

It’s been 4 weeks today since we met and it’s changed my life. It’s a month on Friday. I can’t quite believe it but I will. Oh I will. 

My house is much cleaner. I’ve moved stuff around and pulled up a carpet and generally made more effort and it shows. I hope this carries on. 

My head is clearer and the fog feels like even if it’s not gone completely that right now it’s a little way off so I can breathe and think and attempt normal things. 

I can breathe. 

Grrr

Fuming at the moment. Asked Superdad to have the two littlest boys for two weeks in the holidays. He said he doesn’t think so. So I asked for a week. He says he’ll let me know but he doesn’t think so because (and I quote) “reasons”. 

So I say I will pay for food and electric and it’s only 2 small people so what’s the problem and all of a sudden I’m pushing and I’ll make him say no if I keep pushing.. I’m so tired of this.

Every time I try to arrange something or make plans he just stands in the way, so I have to cancel or change or just plain not do anything. It’s ridiculous. It winds me right up. 

I try and give him the benefit of the doubt but let’s be honest. It’s too much like hard work for him to look after anyone but himself. Apologies for the angry rant. 

Saved and surrounded 

My bad day on Wednesday turned into a good day. Mr Fantastic said I could go see him and I wouldn’t be in the way and I pretty much jumped at the chance. So that was a good night after an awful day.

Yesterday was a good day. In the grand scheme of things it was a ridiculously good day. Shopping and cooking and cleaning and busyness and then Mr Fantastic once he finished work. The children were so happy to see him, they absolutely adore the bones of him. So that was lovely, and we left about 8.30 to take him home so we got some hours of alone time and oh! It was so perfect. I’m so in love. He’s so marvellous. Everything I ever wanted in the most gorgeous handsome man I ever laid eyes on. He literally melts me. 
And today…. isn’t. It isn’t anything. It’s not good or bad, it just is. It exists and I guess that’s all I can say about it. The bed is in the living room for camping already – it’s not even 3pm yet but it was the smalls last day at school and they finished early so.. I’m trying. 

I’m trying.


I’m in bed before 3pm with all my babies and we’re watching Moana. I would love to see Mr Fantastic today but he’s busy and has his son this evening so probably won’t. I miss him but don’t want to be too needy or clingy or get in the way. He’s far too nice to say no if I ask. So I won’t, I’ll just wait and see if he says anything. I hope he’s okay. I worry about him.

❤️

Struggling 

I’m struggling today. Yesterday was such a good day it makes me wonder if it’s a come down from all the excitement but I suspect it’s just this illness rearing its ugly head to remind me I’m not completely over it. I don’t think I ever will be. How can I get over something that’s been with me longer than I’ve been an adult? It’s been with me as long as I remember. Do kids get depressed? Because I was definitely a depressed kid. Although other factors definitely came into play – too many to mention or even want to drag up here – my first suicide plan was at 13. That’s not even a proper teenager, it’s a baby. 

Struggling today. Woke with a weight on my chest and it’s not gone at all. I can barely function. I’ve done my jobs and driven about and made phone calls and forced myself to do all the stuff I should be doing but it’s so hard. My feet are dragging and my mouth has no smiles and my heart is heavy. I slept the morning away and if I could get away with it I’d sleep the day away too. I’m sad. I’m heavy, my everything is weighed down.

Struggling. I got nothing today. I’ve got nothing to give, I am nothing, I feel so done. I wish I could sleep and have cuddles and just be looked after and not alone or expected all this stuff off – I love my babies but sometimes I need a break. Today I need a break. It’s a broken bodied, broken headed, broken day. 

Best weekend I ever had

It wiped the floor with the Eden festival in Dumfries and that’s saying something since that was previously my best weekend ever. And I didn’t even get stoned!

Mr Fantastic and I did some adulting (boring), had a Tesco moment (not boring at all), went to Macdonalds, partook in ALL the cuddles and naps and bedtimes and snuggles and loves and  baths together. There was even a poo chat and some farting and burping in there. And the laughing… so much laughing and fun.

It is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. How can you be so comfortable with someone after just under 3 weeks? That you can forget yourself so much that you’re dancing in the bath? Or farting in bed? Or you can actual show someone your mouthful while you’re eating? (Okay that was me) Or talking while someone’s having a poo! (Not me)

I’ve never felt like this before. It’s an entirely new concept. Complete devotion but with this whole other side of no pretence, no fakery. No makeup, no clothes, no cares. It’s like totally unconditional. It seems that way anyway – im pretty sure that he feels the same, I mean he doesn’t mind when my hairs crazy (all the time) or that I’m not wearing makeup or I’ve got panda eyes or spiky legs or whatever. (I am a general mess. I admit it)

My eyes leaked some when it was time to say goodbye and HE DIDNT MIND. I got so upset and I saw it reflected right back at me and then we giggled and it was so much better. It’s like being accepted. Literally accepted and accepting and loved and loving. He’s shifted the earth under my feet and I love him so so much for it.

I miss him like I miss the sun or the snow or the world when it’s dark but it’s like I know it’s still there so it’s less missing and more being apart but still whole. It’s strange but so weirdly right. It feels proper to miss him. I don’t feel sorry for myself because I miss him, I just miss him. Just because. I’d miss him if he was in another room in the same house. Or on the other side of the city. Out there somewhere but not here. Even here but not touching me. He’s my sun and moon and stars and space and air. He’s my universe. I love him.

I do worry about him though. There’s a frown that appears sometimes. (When he doesn’t think I can see it?) And every so often he goes a bit quiet and sometimes I can see things ticking away but I’ll wait. He’ll tell me if he needs to. I think he’s probably not as open as me with that stuff. I just blah it out and it vomits itself out of my mouth and I talk for an hour or more and can’t seem to shut up until the waffling stops… he’s not like that. But I’d like to know. Because I want to know everything. And if I could help him I’d be happy. If I could help him lift some of that frown I’d be happy. I’d love him and he’d be happy too. That’s all I want. For him to be happy and for us to be happy together and to be able to love each other for always. Regardless of the world. Regardless of everyone else. Just us, being imperfectly, unapologetically, irregardlessly, us. Forever. And with extra apple fritters.

💚

Saturday morning

You know that feeling. When you sleep together for the first time and you’re terrified they’ll realise you snore and fart and do all the stuff you can hide while you’re awake? Yeah that.

Done that. Totally did that last night. It’s like 6am and I woke about 5 and I’ve watched him sleep, I’ve disturbed him because I had to use the bathroom and he’s just gone straight back to sleep. He makes these cute little noises, like sighs of contentment except sleepy. And he doesn’t move. He’s not a fidget at all like me. He just lays still. He’s so handsome. Even with his face relaxed and in sleep mode, even when he had some dribble. Even then. Utterly gorgeous. 

It’s a wonderful feeling waking up in someone’s arms. I’d forgotten how that felt. Feeling safe as you go to sleep? Amazing. That’s a new one on me. Im relaxed and happy and chilled and I don’t have to wake up or sleep or do anything except watch him sleep if I want to – and it’s so new and lovely and just perfect. I’m going to try and sleep again in a minute, just because I can. I don’t think I will, but I can if I want. 

It’s been a wonderful 11 hours so far. 

Wake ups

Awake again. Fine when I got up, panicking now. Body tense, heart racing, brain locked onto Facebook to avoid whatever’s coming next. Cuddled up to my little doggo and my babies. Shaking. Feeling weird.

Don’t want to think the worst about anything, don’t want to go down that road so desperately trying to keep my head busy but it’s hurting. My ears feel like they’re wide open to all the sounds and it’s giving me a headache. There are no sounds aside from sleeping children and so they’re straining to hear and it’s tiring and feels sore. 

My head feels like someone has a hammer and is just pinging it off the glass wall at the back there, every so often there’s an especially loud bang and it feels like it’ll shatter but it doesn’t. Maybe if it did the pain would subside. My head feels open. It’s a cold feeling. Like ice. Like wide open to the world. It’s cold and painful and I wish I wasn’t alone right now. 

If I was with Mr Fantastic I could snuggle into him and he’d help me feel better and warmer and I wouldn’t have to worry about my heart beating so hard it’s going to jump out my chest or my head being open and the insides leaking out or my ears bleeding or my body seizing up so I can’t move. 

I might get up and do some cleaning and then I’d have something to show for the restless night. But I want to get comfortable and I want to be able to sleep and how can I do that if I’m up. Ah I don’t know. 

I wish I could sleep and be peaceful and just be happy and chilled and rest. This is my first really bad night in 2 weeks. I guess it was bound to happen at some point. 

My eyes are tired and my heart is slowing down. Feels like I’ve run a marathon. I’m dog tired. My whole body is worn out. I’m going to try and sleep. Hopefully it’ll come. It’s 4am and I’m tied of being tired. I have a cold feeling all in my face and when I breathe in so maybe I can dream of some warmth. 

Mr Fantastic would be just that right now. Just that. 

Thursday

It’s been a long day. Not a bad one, just a long one. I’m tired today. Tomorrow I’m going to nap. I need it. I get to see my love in the evening and so I need to prep today by bleaching my hair and doing my eyebrows and stuff. But once that’s done, I can dye my hair and it’ll be gorgeous tomorrow when I see him. And I want to be gorgeous for him. Because I have missed him and I love him and I’m thoroughly thoroughly thoroughly missing his cuddles and his kisses and looking into those eyes and seeing that smile and feeling him pressed close to me. I’ve missed falling every time he smiles or sighs or makes those noises that are mine. I’ve missed the feeling that the universe stops existing except for us when we kiss. I’ve missed the feeling of being whole when his skin touches mine. I’ve missed feeling safe and calm and together in a way that I’ve never trusted something so much before. I have missed him more than I thought I would and that’s a lot because I knew I would miss him hugely. Ginormously. I’ve missed him like you miss the sunshine after 6 months of a dark winter. Or the way you miss the smell of bacon when you’ve been on a porridge diet forever. I’ve missed him the way a lonely person misses being held. And I’m going to jump right in when I see him. Those kisses are mine and I’m claiming dibs right now. 

I’m going to kiss his face off and fall asleep next to him and it’s going to be just perfect. ❤️

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