I woke up this morning feeling like crap. Not the feeling poorly, headachey, where the hell did the summer go, kind of crap. No. It was the sleep deprived, gloomy, depressed, what the hell is wrong with me kind of crap, and I can’t seem to shake the feeling.
From the moment I got up, I haven’t stopped until now. Morning greeted me, with a mountain of dirty laundry to wash, a mountain of clean stuff to put away, three children, managing to hurt themselves every five minutes and a whole range of other stuff, that I just don’t want to have to deal with. Now it’s quiet-ish. The twins are asleep, Big Bro is out at the shop with The Beef and I’m sat here, listening to the washing machine, seemingly spinning our clothes into oblivion.
It’s a kind of limbo. Suspended animation, where I’m alone with my thoughts and that overwhelming sense, of feeling crap. There’s no reason why I should feel like this, and yet there are so many. I know that up on the bookshelf, there is a folder from my group therapy session, with the tools to try and help me feel better, but I can’t bring myself to do it. There’s an invisible bubble around me, and right now I can’t burst it and step out of it’s mood-muffling membrane.
Everything else about my life right now, seems like it’s in limbo, put on hold, yet managing to terrify me in the process. Neither me or The Beef are working. We’re in a race right now to see who can find a permanent, full time job first. The one who doesn’t? He or she gets to stay at home and be the full-time parent. Neither of us are winning. Despite endless applications, CVs, covering letters and almost begging, we just can’t seem to get there. The Job Centre don’t really help. They’re pushing The Beef into work experience, leaving me alone with the kids all day. The prospect of that puts the fear of the God I don’t even believe in, into me. I’m not ready to drag all three children out at the crack of dawn each morning, walk an hour round trip, twice a day, in all weathers, to get Big Bro to nursery. But I’ll have to do it. I’ll also have to stop the group therapy, because there won’t be anyone to babysit.
Just when I think that I’m starting to get somewhere, to manage my problems and set goals for myself, I’m plunged back into that deep, dark well of uncertainty and I’m scared! What is there for me right now, other than the washing, the cleaning – the endless beatings from over-active children, who think that boobs are bongo drums? When do I get to escape for a moment from the chaos of life, and just breathe? The prospect of a holiday is laughable. I’ve never, ever been abroad and the closest I’ve ever been to a holiday, was a leaking caravan, when I was under the age of 10!
I know it’s not all bad. My kids are happy, healthy, well cared-for and loved. My relationship is stable and there is love in this house. Somehow though, with all of that, there is a penetrating kind of loneliness that chills me to the core.