I love writing this blog, but i never have the time to do it. But i am doing it now and its 11.35 on a sunday night and i cant sleep. My blog is bottom of the pile, just like reading a book is and they are two of my favourite things to do in life. But here i am, i feel the need to put pen to paper.
Once you have made it public you suffer from mental health problems you aren’t actually allowed to have those feelings anymore are you? I suffer from depression and I take medication so I’m not allowed to feel down any more am I? I’m fixed aren’t I? The thing is I do feel depressed still sometimes. I do feel really down right now. I cant talk about it though because it doesn’t feel like I’m allowed. I’m not really sure who it is that’s making me feel that way, whether its just me saying that or whether I’m scared that if I voice what I’m feeling I will be told ‘stop it Lucy, don’t you know how lucky you are?’ I had a boozy night two nights ago, so that’s why I feel down isn’t it? Isn’t it?
I do know how lucky I am, I feel it everyday. That’s what makes feeling like this even more annoying. We have friends who have just gone through the dreaded big C word. I have another friend who had just lost her mum and I have a bestest, oldest friend whose mum is fighting the dreaded C. I have another gorgeous friend who is going through a painful break up. I think about them every day, I worry because I love and care for them. Unfortunately though it doesn’t stop me from being an arsehole, thinking about myself and feeling really fucking down and lonely right now.
There are reasons I feel like this but I feel like I cant say any of them to anyone so I’m writing them down instead. I’m not actually sure if I will post this, but isn’t that the point of this blog? I’m teetering on the edge right now and I’m writing about so I should post it as its real, and I want to be real. So if you read this and you see me regularly please don’t talk to me about this in the playground or in the pub. I’m writing this so I don’t have to talk about it. Because talking about your feelings is really hard. Being really fucking honest about how you feel is really hard.
As I’ve mentioned I feel low and lonely at the moment. I’ve spent the whole day feeling cross at my beautiful kids. I feel like a slave, they don’t listen to me, do nothing to help and give nothing back. Don’t all of us mums feel like that? They laugh when I get cross, I mean how demoralising is that?
I feel really fucking unattractive…. I’ve been exercising, trying to eat healthily and I feel old and over weight. My hair is going white and I have no time to dye it. My tummy is just rough. I’ve had 3 babies and 3 C sections, although I’ve gone from being able to do no sit-ups to being able to more than that now, it looks rough. Long term relationships are hard, I cant remember the last time I got phwoooooaaaard or romanced, the last time I felt sexy and attractive and wanted. Its not his fault, he is fucking tired too but his body hasn’t been through a mangle. Don’t get me wrong I feel loved, but its two different things though isn’t it?
My family hate me, they think I’m a selfish arsehole (not my husband and kids) but the rest of them. Because I refuse to sweep stuff under the carpet. This post will make them hate me more. I try not to care but I’ve been raised to feel guilty and I do constantly. This makes me feel lonely. They don’t actually know me, they don’t want to know me. They just want me to be something I’m not.
My beautiful sister in law has just had a baby. I don’t feel part of it. She’s going through so much that I went through when I had my babies, but that’s totally forgotten. I’m not an expert but perhaps I could reassure people. I know its not about me, its about them, but after blanked calls and texts and conversations I’m not party to its made me feel sad and left out. Like a child. But I shouldn’t feel like this should I? its not about me.
I’m 8 years down the line tired. Dog tired. But I never admit it. Well I do sometimes. When I admit it, I have to then suck it up and say ‘nothing that a good nights sleep wont fix’ When I had my first baby, lots of people offered to help so I could sleep. No one does now. The offers of help I get are so I can work, so I don’t feel completely useless when I have to ask my husband for MORE money.
I dented our car the other day because I was trying to do too much. The automatic hand break didn’t go on, I don’t know why, it just didn’t. My baby was screaming at me, my 4 year old was asking for stuff and the supermarket van was about to drive off. So I crashed my car. What’s next?
I just cant do it all. I cant clean the house, work and earn money, be a good, happy mum, do the food shopping, organise the parties, night outs, kids dates, family stuff and exercise. I cant be attractive so my husband fancies me. Be a good friend who is there for everyone (I’m particularly awful at that- sorry friends and thanks for sticking with me) I cant be a good daughter who meets all the expectations.
Sometimes I feel like I just cant do it. This life business. I just cant do it. Is that what depression is? I’m not sure what will help me…. maybe stronger drugs. Maybe a shag. Maybe a personal training session with the boxing gloves. Maybe I just need a good nights sleep and a cleaner I cant afford. Who knows? Not me, but I think writing it all down has helped. If I have posted this, please believe me, I don’t want to talk about it when you see me.