Sunday, 23 February 2014
Dear Alex, Not There.
A week's worth of visitors and daily activities has left fatigue mocking me. I have the kids in bed by 8pm tonight, seemingly an early one these days. They are still up, but at least they are beginning to settle.
As my only company in the house (although I realise 'only' and 'four kids' don't meld well in that sentence!) I have let them stay up later and later as the months have gone on since your accident. Their laughter and niggles and reading and teeth cleaning and wiping faces and donning pyjamas, I am in love with every second of it. I can never complain that life as a mummy is unfulfilled or boring…
The feeling of ebbing along, not achieving much, being a slow observer on the pare metres of my life has plagued me for months now. I haven't seen the counsellor since before Christmas, and my appointment is long awaited on Tuesday. She asked me to write down various moments and how I was feeling. I have a rambling list, no structure, and the words stare me starkly in the face. Rambling about companionship and the lack of it terrifying me. About loss, no freedom, suffocation, trying to make the best of a situation and feeling numbed by it all and just wanting it all to change now…
Screaming 'enough is enough' failing to tear down the cold dark stone walls which surround me.
Oppression and hurt.
Anger and loss.
And what else can I do but show her what is really there?
Whether it helps or not, I know I have to talk, not let it all fester.
I feel unconfident as a lone mother raising her cubs alone without the help and support of her partner.
How will they fare?
How will our babies turn out?
I always needed and wanted you there.
I never asked for this, and I am scared I will not do the best job of this baby.
And where are you to ask your advice on this?
Posted by Manic Mum at 21:05