I’m not entirely sure where the last couple of months have gone.
I’ve made it through day to day, certainly. Managed to make therapy appointments, pick up my daughter from nursery, take the baby for check ups, the odd driving lesson, even to make it through a five hour long hairdressers session for a radical cut and colour (short and pink!). But I’ve skipped meals, thought dark thoughts, mentally planned escapes, forgotten conversations and even missed the wedding of a dear friend because I’ve been, well, ill is the only way I can describe. Ill or mad. Take your pick.
One positive to the weeks of fairly relentless shittiness has been that I am now more clear in my mind about what my triggers are. I imagine that they are not uncommon; I have to remind myself that even the most mentally robust would begin to unravel under their pressure.
- If my sleep is more disrupted than usual (and my youngest still wakes less than four times a night).
- If I skip a meal. Just three or four hours without anything to eat is enough for my mood to crash and my anxiety rise.
- If I spend a day inside. My mood lifts as soon as I step outside the house even if there’s freezing drizzle.
- If I get trapped on the internet.
- If I don’t take the time in talking to those closest to me, especially my partner.
- If I don’t have a plan.
There have been days over the last few weeks where I have been so exhausted, so utterly ashamed of myself and what I perceive as my inability to be the kind of parent and partner I think I should be, so despondent about the future and the world that I have considered walking into traffic. For those moments (and thankfully they have only been moments) I am convinced that my no longer existing would be the best thing in the circumstances. Surely my daughters deserve better than I can give them? Aren’t they young enough that by removing myself it might mitigate any damage I must have caused them? Writing this down I can see just how horrible this way of thinking is. How defeatist. How completely nonsensical it is. But on the plus side – having these thoughts pop up has frightened me into taking my mental health more seriously again. Self care is an absolute necessity – I WANT to be around for my girls and I WANT the chance to do better. That requires me putting myself first for a change.
I’ve decided to go back to basics. I’d been trying to run before I could walk and every time I stumbled I felt more and more crushed.
Tomorrow I’ll outline how I’ve paired down my day to day life in order to actually achieve more. I hope that maybe other people might find it useful. It’s still very much early days, a work in progress, but the experiment seems to be working. And now I’m off for an afternoon nap.