Here’s a little back story about my post for you
When I was asked to be a part of ‘We are the face of motherhood: A series on Postpartum Depression‘ organised by the amazing Jamie from Mommy in Flats I panicked a little. It was a no-brainer really, of course I will always say a big fat yes to raising awareness and ending the stigma surrounding postpartum/postnatal depression and anxiety but I got a little nervous that I wouldn’t have much to say because I realised suddenly that things were good. Things were finally feeling really, really good. In fact, I considered that perhaps I had bested the beast once and for all, and that I wouldn’t be lost in the darkness again. Ha! Life loves to remind me that when you have kids you don’t get to be in control of something like that, so after a while of living in blissful ignorance I got the sharp reminder that I needed and out came my post.
I’m sorry I’m feeling depressed today. I know it’s hard for you to come home from work and understand why. I don’t mean to expose it so much because I know you don’t understand.
I’m sorry I yell when you ask what’s wrong. I don’t know how to word what I feel sometimes. It’s not as black and white as you’d like it to be. It’s grey. It’s so grey. Read more
What mental health concerns have you come up against? Are they yours or a family members?
I have lived with depression since I was about 13 and anxiety since childhood. I have also experienced PND after the birth of my first child.
Donning my perpetual fury
Preparing for an empty day
My son the only jury
Not even he is able to sway
“Because she is my mum, and I love her”
My story is not like everyone else’s. I know total cliché line to open with. It is something, that I have learnt to accept and I am very open with. To tell my story I need to also tell my mums.
I completely bombed my essay.
You know, I knew I would. It wasn’t good. It’s my first one and I just didn’t ‘get it’. I also have a thousand and one excuses about why I failed, some valid, some a bit of a stretch, but it doesn’t matter. Bottom line is, I did fail.
But it’s totally okay because it was the submission of the fist draft so I get another shot at sucking! Yaaaay #sarcasm.
Wow, well that was unexpected.
When I hit upload on my blog post ‘We’re under attack‘ the other day I had no idea what it would turn into! It seemed that the reply threads consisted of twenty-odd positive, supportive comments and then one that suggested my children were monsters. Twenty more ‘I feel you!’ comments, and one accusing me of shrugging my children playing up as ‘boys will be boys’ (I have never, and I will never). Another twenty comments sending love, and one telling me that my children targeted the little girl and had planned an attack on her – puh-lease.
I just refuse to believe that children are nasty little schemers with a plan for world domination and pulling peoples hair. Perhaps I’m naive. Either way, I know my children, and they definitely don’t have a bunker full of targets photos and playground blueprints.
Today I was abused by another mother.
I’ve heard about this happening, but I’ve never been involved like this.
My middle son (2) hurt her daughter. I saw it happen, spoke to him about it, and then he and I both apologised to her daughter and her for what had happened. All was good. I felt good about how I’d dealt with it.
Then without warning she was in my face.
This morning was the first childcare day of the year for Biggestlittle. We walked in at the same time as the staff who organises placements and she said hi and asked where the other two boys were. I reminded her that they only come on Mondays.
The glorious words that escaped her mouth changed everything. She said that I should bring them in because it was quiet and they missed out coming on Monday due to the public holiday!
This past week I have finally stopped procrastinating.
Instead of letting my anxiety rule when I think ‘It is too hard, don’t bother, people will just laugh, you can’t do it’ I’ve decided to think ‘Who cares? You’ve got this!’
Who cares if people laugh when I rock up to the gym with my thunder thighs and bubble butt? Isn’t that what the gym was originally created for? I mean waaaay back. Back when they were about losing weight and getting fit, and not about looking the part, or having a like-worthy status update.
There are three things that have put me in the fitness frame of mind. In no particular order they are: