Saturday, 7 January 2012

On Judgement & Actually Losing My Mind

Today has been a bad day. A very bad day.

I feel okay now. I don't understand it, really. I've been flat for days & I suppose I knew it was coming but also hoping it might not. I just didn't know it'd be so bad. I'm making it sound melodramatic & dicky & I haven't any right to be a melodramatic dick. It was just all shit, & mostly I feel as though I deserve to feel this way, but whether that's true or not I don't want to.

As I say, I've felt numb & fairly irritable for a few days which is usually a sign that things are going to come to a head. It started, I think, from something so pointless & stupid that I feel petty even writing it. The Man's friend text him asking him what we were up to tomorrow. We hadn't anything planned so I thought it'd be nice to have people over. A little while later the Man said to me "He's just suggested he come over, but his OH wants to come too so he thought that we could go to the local while you keep the kids entertained."

To be honest, I think it was just badly phrased but I was pretty damn offended by the assumption that I'd be happy to sit at home with the kids (like every other day) with someone who, admittedly is lovely & I'd like to get to know better, but at the moment I hardly know. In fact I don't think it was even that part, it was just the assumption. So I expressed my mild offence taken at this suggestion & voiced my need for a pint, but there wasn't any real reason for me to object. That was that & later the Man went to work & I got on. I realised that I was still thinking about this a few hours later & so I decided to have a shower.

So I'm in the shower & I'm thinking about the assumption more & more & I'm pretty angry by this point, but I can't really understand why.

"He needs his man time" I tell myself, & I agree.

"Just because you haven't been able to go for a pint yet there's no reason to feel annoyed at him" I say, & I agree.

"He'd do the same for you" I convince myself. I know, but I think I'd ask rather than assume. Wouldn't I? I don't know.

"It's not him that's the problem here is it?" No, I don't think it is.

"Why haven't you been out?" I don't know. I'm breast feeding, my friends haven't been free, I'm reluctant to leave the baby...

"Really?" I don't know.

By this point, though I've tried to rationalise the situation I am still pretty pissed off - in fact probably more pissed off because logic isn't helping my case - but none of the anger or upset I'm feeling has any reason or direction. Am I angry at myself? Am I jealous that I can't just go out at the drop of a hat? I'm sobbing, I'm bawling, & why? I have no idea but I can't stop it. I feel as though I am imploding & there is nothing I can do about it. Usually the four walls of the shower cubicle shut the rest of the world out for me & I can relax but today they have me trapped & now I'm crouching on the floor gagging because I'm sobbing so hard. What the fuck is wrong with me? I think I am actually losing my mind. This is pathetic. I am pathetic.

"Just look at what you have" Yes, exactly. Everything I don't deserve.

I can't stop my tears & I am crying out loudly now. With each heave of my arched back & each sob I try to compose myself but I still can't. My head hurts now, but apart from that there is just blankness & numbness. I feel as though I'm a record that's got stuck. This is supposed to be the part where the sobbing stops & I calm down & then everything looks a bit brighter but it's not happening, just stuck, sob after sob after sob. I don't know what else I can do but scream & so in frustration I hit the tiled wall of the shower with my fist & it hurts a lot. But it feels like a release. I am not stupid & I do not do it again because I know if I start I won't stop. I've only ever felt like this once before, briefly, when I was about 18 or 19 & now I am becoming scared.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I am actually losing my mind. I step out of the shower & continue to sob loudly until Eldest comes into the room. She asks what I'm laughing at. I face the mirror & tell her it's nothing & she goes again. I try plucking my eyebrows as a distraction but I am repulsed by my own hideous, tear-strewn reflection & so I go to get dressed, still crying like a baby. Eldest comes in & she is beautiful in her vile top & pretty skirt - a combination she chose herself - & now she has realised that I'm crying, not laughing. She asks whether I am ill, or just sad. I tell her it's okay & she then says that I'm not to worry because she will cheer me up. She is bouncing on the bed with her arms wide open, smiling at me. I sit next to her & sit her on my knee & tell her how wonderful she is. She knows. I don't deserve such an amazing daughter, but I am thankful every day that I have her.

I know that I need to write, because it's a good therapy. I know that my laptop will get very wet in the process. I think about what I will say & I know that none of it makes any sense whatsoever. Then I start to imagine what a nut-job I must sound. I imagine the Man, whom I do not deserve one little bit, down the pub or wherever, with his friends who might have stumbled upon my post. I imagine what they would think. Or at least, what I think they would think.

"Proper looper mate, I'd stay well clear if I were you. You could do better."

I think that maybe they wouldn't say that. After all, I don't know them & the lesson of the day is not to assume, right? I know it's just me putting my own feelings about myself into someone elses mouth, but if I think it, then others are bound to, right? Just in case they did think that perhaps I shouldn't write about this. It is pretty mental after all. I cry for no reason & then I feel good about hurting myself. Maybe I should just call someone who can come & hold me, because that's all I really want. It's the second best therapy. Then no one else will have to know. But who? I am stood thinking about who might come all this way just to hug me because I'm too scared to write & then it hits me - when I'm well, I spend all my time insisting that people should open up; that the best therapy is talking; that others should not judge & though it is the reality that they do judge we should have no shame whatsoever in admitting how we feel & how this illness affects us yet still I am terrified of being judged. Terrified.

I am a massive hypocrite.

There is a long list of shit stuff that I believe I am. I am not prepared to add 'Hypocrite' to that. There isn't the room.

So, I sit & I write.

Fuck every single one of you that judges me, the joke is on you, because aside from when I'm being a proper looper, I am the most normal person I know. It takes knowing madness to enjoy sanity.


  1. Thank you for posting this. I can relate to it all (especially not wanting to blog honestly because of potential judgement, but not wanting to be a hypocrite either). It helps to know I'm not the only one that goes through this kind of stuff. Much appreciated!

  2. ooh! I would be hopping mad. I really would! This isn't possibly a helpful thing to say, but I would feel like Cinderella if I was told to stay at home and look after the bubs while my OH went out to have a nice sociable time.

    However, I also know that when I am at home, I really treasure the opportunity to go out and socialise. It's just not easy to get the opportunity, and so having one such chance being taken away by someone else (albeit in a well meaning way) would feel pretty harsh.

    Don't beat yourself up too much about it. Sometimes feelings can't be 'logiced' away, and I reckon that alot of mothers feel this way.

    Take care of yourself, and make sure you tell your OH everything, even if it doesn't make sense.

  3. the kids are now ranged from 24 to 12 and i still get upset that its me that has to phone work to say im ill when one of the kids has been sick...a few years ago i decided on 'me' time and took myself off to watch the football once a fortnight at St Andrews, unfortunatley as the kids got older they decided to come with me


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