Wednesday, 15 June 2011

revelations

Do you ever feel that you are just about to grasp whatever it is that you have been chasing for so long? That finally you are nearly there; you can see it and for the first time, you are steadily catching up with it? That IT (whatever IT is) might, finally, be achievable?

The last few weeks have been incredibly stressful, on and off. Coming after what B and I now call 'The Year Of Hell' as shorthand between us - 2008/9 - the year we had a new baby; I had post-natal depression; my father died; we had a second baby; two good friends dropped dead in their early forties; we went bankrupt and lost our business and our house three weeks before the second baby was born; B's parents went mad and our relationship with them bottomed out; the new baby was born with pneumonia and then stopped breathing at eight weeks old when she caught bronchiolitis and was kept breathing by my mother, alone in the house with her, in the half hour it took an ambulance to arrive; I had post-natal depression again; we had relationship difficulties; and finally we moved once more, back to Somerset - pauses to draw breath - things have been very tough - our resilience is very low.

Add to that my propensity to take on too much [glares round malevolently at anyone who might comment], I have felt for a long time that I have been grasping for a clarity and peace that has been permanently out of reach.

A month ago, just after we discovered Nenna's further difficulties, I cracked and confessed to B that I could no long cope with him being away for longer than three or four days at a time. I simply can't keep the routine going - chronic fatigue, depression, whatever the reason, I simply run out of puff after about four days and it takes me a fortnight to recover. B recognised that this was true, although he was unhappy about the reality. We have been relying a great deal on Ma and Sister Natalie to take up the slack for us and it's just not fair to them.

Two weeks ago, B went to the doctor and was diagnosed with depression. Unsurprisingly, given the circumstances. The wait for counselling around here is six months - we have found somewhere that offers means-tested private sessions, though, which is good.

We are both exhausted. Really, truly exhausted - emotionally, mentally, physically.

But, I think, this might be a good thing. I literally have no energy for anything other than marking time. Focusing on B and the children and having enough income to keep us bobbing along.

I have pared what I need to do down to the ground. I have cut my social commitments. I have made some very hard decisions about people I can and cannot have in my life. It has been horrible.

But.

I feel better. I feel calmer. I feel as if I have a clarity of thought and purpose that I haven't had for years - perhaps ever. I finally seem to have time. Time to spend with the children - Leo and I spent twenty minutes in the Co-Op this morning, whilst he decided what sweets to spend his fifty pence on. Nenna and I spent half an hour sorting out her magnetic letters this afternoon. I have had time to read. I have had time and energy to keep the kitchen clean. I have had time to cook properly.

I am forty-one and I finally, FINALLY feel as if I might be getting to grips with the life that I want to live.

5 comments:

  1. I'm glad. hold on to that clarity

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  2. Rooting for you, darling girl.

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  3. This sounds good - I'm glad you are feeling better, hope it's the beginning of much calmer times. xxx

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  4. Your post sounds like you are feeling better. I'm so glad for that. Now I wish I could pare down my obligations and start saying no. I haven't quite gotten that down yet, someday.

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