In difficult times of you’d hope a husband could rely on his wife. Not my husband. Instead, he gets to worry about me. Instead of helping him to rest and ushering the children away I am keeping him awake, I am crumbling. The only conclusion that I can come to about this is to hate myself. Vehemently. Even this act is selfish: more of my energy spent on me.
I keep him awake because I thrash and shout in my sleep. I can’t control it of course but it’s still unfair. He’s a bad sleeper as it is and now that he’s grieving his father he finds himself spending nights on the sofa. He goes to the bathroom and is met by me screaming at him in half-awake-half-asleep terror as he walks back into my room.
I tried some proper adulting and it worked for a bit. I even did a big supermarket shop and that’s a big deal for me. However, as I’ve unwound more and more in the last few days, I have realised that I can’t really go to shops at the minute. It fires up the mad, paranoid thoughts – the mad, paranoid thoughts which I know are not true and yet are no less terrifying. I was hoping to do an online shop instead but didn’t quite manage that either so Husband has battled round ASDA on a bank holiday with both kids in tow. Just what he needs I’m sure.
There are lots of reasons that my mental health has taken an out of control nose dive and I can recognise some of it. I can try and wrestle the controls, pull back up but unfortunately my husband is witnessing the nose dive and it worries him greatly. I understand that and I wish it were not so. In the past I would have dealt with these feelings by being excessively cruel to myself (ok, no change there) and trying to do all the ‘right’ things. However, I have learned that getting upset because I’m not perfect doesn’t help anyone so my standards are greatly lowered but I still find myself wanting. Not good enough Kate, not good enough.
I’m so far behind in my reflexology course that I am seriously considering quitting. Considering quitting is a waste of energy because I know that I won’t.
Anyway, my life feels in limbo at the minute. I’m here, waiting. Trying to be there, trying to hold on. I know that the clouds will clear for me and for the husband. I just want to be his rock but instead I’m a stone and a bloody great heavy one at that.