I didn’t really know how to start this blog. I wrote, then I deleted and started all over again until it became a vicious cycle of wondering whether it was going to be written at all.
My blog has been absent. I have been absent.
It’s tough work, this mum gig. I take my hat off to single parents or to families with more than one child. I take me hat off to those parents who act like their shit is together but in reality it may not be. I credit those who are some days at their wits end and no one knows any different. I credit myself, because some days I don’t know how I’ve managed to provide and care for Eevie without falling to pieces every single day, although don’t get me wrong, it does happen.
I’ve been absent from friends, family and myself. I’ve stopped maintaining friendships and chose sleep or “alone time” instead of fulfilling my social needs and to those people, I apologise.
I struggled going back to work and started to feel like a part time mother and the guilt came down on me. Hard. I felt as though I was missing out on those fundamental days where she needed me the most and for what? Those little paper notes that apparently we need to get by. I found myself overwhelmed at life and underwhelmed at the same time and honestly, returning to work was the worst thing I could have done for myself because this seems to be where things started to go downhill. Not only did I have to focus on being “mum”, but I had to go to work and continue to play the carers role. Now, this isn’t me whinging or sooking, but I never got a BREAK. I was, and still am, constantly caring for the needs of others whilst neglecting my own.
That’s when my mind started playing tricks on me. Tricks that I had never really experienced before. Things that I tried to sweep under the mat and say to myself “stop talking shit to yourself” because I became paranoid and anxious and all out of character. There were days where I fully convinced myself that if I didn’t clean the mirror properly, something bad would happen to my family and that’s when I recognised that I NEEDED HELP .. then boom. The good ol’ post natal depression and anxiety diagnosis, which believe me, was the LAST thing this bubbly and full of life gal expected but my main question was WHY am I experiencing this. I mean, I’ve got a roof over my head and food on my plate. I have a job, a qualification and a partner. I have Eevie. My Eevie. So what is the issue?
Well, I still haven’t figured that out. I refused the meds (which to many sounded silly) and seen the psychologist instead. These went well, and in fact I only attended 3 sessions before giving myself the all clear with the response of “are you sure?” And me with my major ego responding “sure!”. Because I figured out my problem. I was too involved in life and less involved in the moment and in this, I gained anxiety over life and focused on aaaalllll of the things that COULD go wrong. So instead, I reflected about what the last few months entailed and stopped trying to be the person I wanted myself to be and to be the person Eevie needed and man, it feels so right.
But on a happy note, let’s celebrate the greater things.
I finished my Nursing, which took me an additional 12 months due to falling pregnant (no complaints so don’t start your shit). Finishing was a struggle because DAMN, did these motivation fall through the roof.. I even considered not showing up with only 3 WEEKS TO GO. I know. Lame.
I stopped focusing on making effort into homemade food for Eevie and just appreciated that she was getting fed, either by a pouch or homemade food. She loves nuggets, okay?!
I started to CLEAN. Not freakishly OCD like either. But I felt engulfed and smother and therefore it reflected on my mood. A “relatively” clean house meant I could BREATHE and one less stress of washing the dishes the next day were eliminated.
I became CAREFREE. Which is massive because back in the day I used to be the little sheep who used to let people walk all over me. Sometimes it still happens. But I’m a grown ass woman who somehow grew a thicker skin when she had a baby and now no longer had time for people’s bullshit. Ciao 👏🏻
I got a new car. Crashed it (no fault of my own). Got it back.
Got a million books. Intend to read atleast the first page.
Loved a little more and hated a little less. Blah blah blah.
I watched friends and loved ones experience pain and heartache and wished I could take it all away but the reality is, I can’t. That sucks balls.
And then, it all comes back to my beautiful little girl. At 9 WHOLE MONTHS?! Like, that’s gotta be a joke, right?
We have a crawler, a sassy attitude, a lover for all things edible and not edible and a little girl who (still, with no hair) completely throws a spanner in the works for EVERYTHING I try. But damn, she is gold.
Life is gold. Life is good. Life is doable.
I suppose the only thing I want mums or even dads to take from this, is DONT LOSE YOURSELF IN THE PROCESS because it’s damn easy to do so and it’s SO easy to feel isolated. Do yourself the favour and don’t be afraid to talk.
Sarah.
