Things are slipping; I can feel the earth beneath my feet crumbling and as a vile taste of nausea has become lodged in the back of my throat, my balance is being rocked. A heady dizziness stifles my thoughts and I’m not entirely sure what to do or how to behave. I’ve lost my footing and my clouded judgement has left me wavering on the edge. It has crept upon us again, this difficult patch, stealth like, different aspects of our life have been gently pushing us toward the edge of the slippery slope.
As Mr H and I put more distance between our recent NHS sessions of CBT therapy, the void of no one to speak to, to guide us, has seen us tripping back into old habits. Try as we may, the weight of negativity is pushing down on those fledgling strategies that can manipulate our minds. I’d say we both needed more time, someone there made a big difference to us, but the NHS say we’ve had our lot. For now anyway.
The resentment is on both sides. I for his work, the ability to turn off and re-focus, even walk away to a business event, a night away in other people’s company. For him, his need for support in the work place and emotional arena is met with an unwavering priority for the children. The reality is a man down on his knees with the financial responsibility of this family and a mother unsure how much more she can take. We need each other but constantly repel each other.
The children have reached new phases of difficulty, not separately but at the same time. Tink has finally decided that school is not for him and ramped up the challenging behaviour whilst there. Stig is moody and defiant again; a child who seems to have the weight of the world on his shoulders but is unprepared/ able to share. Both are spoiling for a fight with everyone and anyone, making it hard for me to look people in the eye during the school run. Real or not I imagine parents staring and thinking/saying there’s the mother who can’t control, doesn’t discipline her unruly children, and worse.
I feel the need to remove myself from society and real life, as I immerse myself into the world where I know I’m understood, twitter friends, fellow adopters. It’s my own take on things, I know it’s not the reality, but my children’s trauma has created a trauma in me. Like them I have a skewed perception of reality and have created my own coping strategies. I’m removing the vulnerable factors in my life.
Sleep comes in short bursts which satisfies extreme fatigue, but what then follows is restless tossing and turning of a body tense to the core. Awake I’m going over and over the conversations, what I should have done what I shouldn’t have done, on a relentless loop. Eventually there is sobbing in the dark. The tiredness obviously acts as a catalyst to the ill considered parenting approach and does not aid therapeutic mum.
But wait a moment, there is a light. As I teeter on that edge, strength at my core pulls me upright again. It’s unfortunately not endless yoga and palates creating this strength, but a chemical numbing of the depressive state. Breathless anxiety has been replaced by a desensitisation that only anti-depressants can deliver. Thank god. I can take a breath, think logically.
Logically, it’s only a couple of weeks ago when things were going well, we can reclaim that.
I feel the gently tap of friendship on my shoulder, the reminder that there are those who can help.
My mum, my shining beacon of none wavering, being there.
Friends that offer escape and kindness, not knowing the full extent of what goes on is often a bonus when escapism is needed.
Each other, we’ve come through rocky times before, we will move through this patch too.
The warm embraces that my children bring to me, arms stretched wide, they seek my love. For that I am eternally grateful and it still deepens my love for them, daily.
I know that we just have to get through this week. Mr H and I have allocated some time to regroup next week. He has to deliver this final event for some time and I just need to keep my head down on the front line of parenting. Survival is the game for now but not the long term plan. Tomorrow, next week things will improve again.