‘One day at a time’. That’s the name of the song we played at my grandfather’s funeral. The words my mum got as part of her tattoo. The motto we all live by.
Now more than ever I find myself saying these words. Trying to bring myself some strength and comfort and patience from them. Trying to get through these beautiful, beautiful memory making days that are tainted with the cold, bitter darkness that is post natal depression.
It’s rotten. I’m quite literally wishing away the most precious days I have with my babies. I don’t want it to be this way. I want to enjoy this time and show my boys happiness and love…they are still so impressionable and I feel like I’m failing them.
I’m failing myself. I want to be more. And I will. I will get there…one day at a time.