Well today the proverbial shit well and truly hit the fan. A week or so ago I’d waited 15 mins for a bus 3 pushchairs got on before me one of which had a 3/4 year old able to walk in a stroller. It would have been nice given that I’d waited a long time and my 2 year old who is unable to walk was asleep to be let on my one of them folding a pushchair down. They didn’t so I had to phone for a taxi. I was already pissed off but then the driver that turned up put the taxi meter on before he got out of the car. Before I got in or even loaded my pushchair in. My son had just woken up he was still sleepy in my arms. I’d been charged by a so called family member to put my buggy in the boot.
I told the guy who owns the company I was not impressed I was not happy. Well today I go to my sisters and ask for a taxi into town for 10:45, it turns up at 10:50 and it’s the same driver (the “family” member) that previously over charged me the week before. I needed the cab so I was gonna get in and say nothing. I left the house to go to the taxi and he tried to drive away I try opening the door. He gets out and says no I don’t want you in because of last week. I said fine I’ll walk. I rang up the firm again and says right I need another taxi and fast because he refused to take me.
Then I ranted on Facebook like we all do. That’s when the shit hit the fan. My grandad having a go, my “auntie” (the drivers wife) having a go. All telling me I’m lying etc I was to get my facts straight. I had my say and I wasn’t backing down. The conversation ended with my grandad telling me not to go to his house again. Me saying fine by me. I was angry how dare they treat me like that. It’s no loss of mine and I have no intention of crying any tears over it. They are not people I want my children growing up around.
I got an email yesterday with the first draft of Or’s story reading it was emotional again. Re reading what I’d told this stranger over the phone re living the memories. It was pretty hard in all honesty. I look at the boy now and apart from the scars there’s no evidence of what he went through. That little silvery white line that saved his life is all that’s there.
Patronising people at groups telling me how well he’s doing they don’t have a fucking clue. Dopey little bitches that make up drama to make their lives more interesting to others. If they had seen first hand what he went through they wouldn’t be so fucking patronising. It’s been hard work physically and mentally exhausting going through it all but my little boy, my tough little cookie made it through. I don’t need silly little dramas o keep my life private not one of them have the first clue how hard it can be.
Why is it parents (not all) feel the need to compete with other parents?! “My kid is 6 months old and crawling and pulling to stand” blah blah blah who gives a crap?! All children learn at different rates. All they need is parents willing to push them to the best of their ability and teach them it’s ok to make mistakes. I’m proud of my children. It’s a daily battle with them, they both have very different needs and I’m stretching myself to try and fill those needs. I just don’t feel like it’s good enough some days. I won’t ever feel the need to compete with other parents I don’t scoop down to their level.
I’ve had my rant now I’m going to kiss my beautiful boys goodnight then I’m off to snuggle up to my youngest boy and go to sleep.
This week has been an incredibly hard week for me. The worst part is the struggle to talk about why it was so hard. I hate lying to people and hate keeping things from the people who are there to support me but it’s something I’ve never been able to talk about. Something happened a very long time ago and I thought I had dealt with it (my way as per usual) but it’s come back to light and I’m finding it hard to deal with it aswell as having the anxiety and depression. I went to talk to one of the people who supports me on Tuesday I was so tearful and tense I broke down. Because of everything that’s come back into my life I had to go on to medication as per advice given on Tuesday. I feel like everything I’ve worked for has been for nothing which then makes me feel even worse. I feel like I’ve failed myself I wanted all this over by my babies first birthday next month and well that ain’t happening now.
Until recent events I thought I was doing ok. I thought I was winning but having to go on medication and go to the doctors was admitting defeat in my eyes. I wanted to do it my way and I was doing well. But unfortunately I see their point I was in a proper state. I’ve barely eaten I was honest and told them that. But people keep going on at me. I can’t force myself to eat if I don’t feel like it. People trying to encourage me to eat also won’t work. It puts too much pressure on me and I hate that they all say they are concerned about my eating. It’s how I cope I’m fine and I’m not in denial. When I feel good I can eat when I don’t I can’t.
I’ve had a fair few panic attacks or anxiety attacks this week, I’ve been extremely low and I’ve not much been able to pick myself up from it. Pretty hard to admit this aswell. I have the need to comtrol things in my life and I can’t cope with loss of control which I guess is one reason why I don’t want medication low dose or not.
People around me know I didn’t want medication and knew I didn’t want to take it. It took some convincing.
I had to tell my best friend that I’ve had all this going on and I’m so very lucky that the few friends I have are very supportive. I’d be lost without them.
I feel like I’m splitting myself into two lives one were people know about the depression or know the full story and I get support and the life where no-one knows and I’m expected to happy and cheery all the time and it’s hard work putting on the pretence all the time. Especially when I really don’t feel strong enough to fake a smile. Sometimes I feel like shouting at the top of my voice there’s a reason for almost everything and tell people what’s going on in my life but I actually like to stay private. It’s just so hard to live these lives and I feel like I’m failing big time.
I mentioned that I get a lot of support from various people for my mental health now but the support I’m lacking is from the one person that should be supporting me the most. My husband. As I’ve said before I’m not the greatest at talking but I have tried and failed several times to talk to my husband. Every time I talk to him about anything he always makes it about him and somehow comes off as if he’s got it worse. It’s no competition but here’s what I’ve he to deal with that he hasn’t. We have an older son so while i was in hospital for 3 days after having the baby he was with our other son. When the doctors found the heart murmur i was alone, when they did the ecg I was alone and when they did the echo on his heart again I was alone. Then the diagnosis came and once again I was alone.
A couple of weeks after the baby was born he went to work full time and there was me on my own 5 days a week with a newborn and a nursery age child. I dealt with everything alone while he was at work. Nurses coming in to check sats and our health visitor coming to weigh the baby once a week. I did it all alone. I went to the hospital appointments to the cardiologist alone too. I’m not saying he didn’t feel things too but he didn’t have to deal with what I death with on a daily basis.
When things turned into an emergency situation and the baby was rushed into hospital he stayed at home and looked after the older boy while i once again dealt with doctors and nurses and had more sleepless nights. I slept in a chair next to his bed that’s when I actually slept. I slept with my head leant over on to his bed for the first few nights and was in hospital for just over 2 weeks. They came to the specialist hospital but still I was alone most of the time. When we came home once again he returned to work and I was the one dealing with hospitals and getting the other boy to school. Booking hospital transport arranging someone to be there for the older boy. Missing him and not spending time with him as much as I wanted with going back n forth to hospital.
Now when I’ve tried to talk to him several times and failed I gave up trying. I write a mood diary every night for one person to read to see how I’m doing and what I can improve on. It’s my therapy. It’s private I let one person read it and only that one person. So I caught my husband reading my book I confronted him a day he came up with some pretty pathetic excuses and turned it round to say how bad he was feeling. I told him under no uncertain terms it was private and asked for respect of that privacy. He’s once again breached my privacy and read my book cover to cover. So right now I’m nothing short of pissed off and upset. There’s no point confronting him again it clearly had no affect last time. I’m sad that he felt the need to read my personal things. I know some will say there should be no secrets in marriage but it’s not like i haven’t tried to tell him everything he just doesn’t want to listen. He’s got it much worse then me why would he listen?