Alphabet Street

As a wise, little, purple man once said, I'm going dooowwwn. I'd written a different post for this week, something a bit more light-hearted, but then I realised I was talking bollocks. So, prepare yourselves for some self-indulgent sharing of my current journey into the dark swamp...It started last week - a feeling that something strange was afoot. I began waking up at night for no obvious reason (although I've since discovered I have a pesky mouse in my BEDROOM, so perhaps all of this is in fact HIS fault.), sensing my energy draining away, thinking my friends were rejecting me, ruminating over tiny things, fearing the future, feeling convinced I was coming down with something. At this stage, I know I need to be careful as tiny things can tip me over the edge. Then a couple of events ( an argument with my neighbour, my son going through a stage of clobbering every child within reach, my husand-to-be and I arguing a lot, my mum heading back to America) did just that. And now I'm somewhere crap, where my smile's disappeared and my hands seem to be dragging along the floor...and it's definitely NOT Alphabet Street.

And all the while, there's this gorgeous (if a bit aggro!), smiling little boy, whose favourite word is 'hooray!', who's miraculously changing every day, who's going to be little for such a short time, who's adoring me, wanting my attention, giving me cuddles (and the occasional slap)...and I feel like I'm wasting this time, ashamed that I'm so unworthy and self-pitying. You see, life is brilliant - there's no concrete reason I should be feeling like this.


There's also something else that's worrying me - I think what I'm suffering from is less PN and more plain old D, now. This probably means it'll be a life-long feature. Bums. 


Anyway, I know what I need to do to yank myself out of all this - I need to do what I've been going on about in my posts for the last few weeks...drag myself out of the house; see my self-loathing as the mind trick it really is (hello, Motherexia); acknowledge this is chemical and is a phase - it will PASS; realise that hopefully my son won't notice what's going on-that he'll still really feel the kisses and cuddles even though I can't right now. And I need to talk about it, which, although it makes me feels strange and vulnerable, is what I'm doing now, Cyber Folk. Thanks for listening.