Omg i haven’t written in literally for ever. Words used to flow from me like wine flows into me 🤦🏼♂️😂. I have meant to, even made resolutions to, but for reasons unknown I have not.
And not infrequently, I have questioned why.
It’s not like my life has suddenly become all happy and settled, rendering me bereft of poignant thoughts to pen. In fact it’s been quite the opposite, which I now know to be the root of my abstinence.
My once, in retrospect, chilled life of learning to be a solo parent, whilst honing my skills on a surfboard and finding time to dive into my consciousness, has been usurped by the sudden need to earn a regular income, combined with the drastic upheaval of family life heralded by a child entering the teenage years, and a few other seemingly innocuous additions thrown in for good measure.
Holy shitballs batman has the last couple of years and change been a two handed slap in the face of what I thought life had in store..
I started a new job almost exactly a year ago, on Albi’s birthday to be exact. A great job for an awesome bunch of characters that combined my love of fishing with my nerdy penchant for digital marketing. A job I am grateful for and look forward to going to each day. Which speaks volumes, as does the regular pay check!
I didn’t, however, fully grasp the change in dynamic that working 5 days a week would bring. As usual I assumed that I would be up to the challenge, which for the most part I am. I am, however, sorely pressed for time to do anything besides the required clean, feed and water the household members, let alone being so selfish as to find time for myself.
But then my little girl decided to go from just that to not that literally overnight. 🤦🏼♂️
So I can hear all you teen-experienced parents out there giggling and laughing at my expense right now, and that’s cool. As much as I should have heeded the comments and hints over the years, I still don’t think it would have prepared me for the clusterfuck that ensued.
Which, I must admit, was almost entirely due to my inability to reconcile the fact that I now have a rapidly muturing, opinionated, vocal, moody, snappy, argumentative, unresponsive, lethargic, demanding, grumpy, hungry, disengaged but also none of the above if so desired and perfectly pleasant, young woman in place of my baby girl.
But that’s cool. I get it. I, unappreciatively, do in fact remember what it was to be that age. And to be quite frank, feel I am currently getting of quite lightly!
So: new job, no time, teenage daughter. Under control but not. All G.
Let’s complicate things a little shall we? 😂
How about I commit to buying a block of land that ends up taking three years to settle? Great idea! Oh and while we’re at it, let’s lock in a builder right at the start and go through 4 contracts that keep expiring because I don’t own the land yet and prices keep sky-rocketing due to global material shortages! Perfect!
And when we’re almost there, let’s find somewhere else to live so our landlords can renovate.. 🤦🏼♂️
Surely that’s enough to keep me mentally busy yeah? It’s nearly at build start so should be all smooth sailing now..😭 Pfft.. You obviously don’t know me.
Perhaps this is the ideal time to consider a romantic endeavour? Why not!
I have met (or re-met? 🤔) a delightful girl and things have blossomed over the last couple of years. We are great friends and have an incredible connection that I didn’t think was ever going to be possible again after Renee. I cycle between being wracked with guilt and indecision and thinking I’m happy. Time will tell. But yeah, no stress. 🤦🏼♂️🤞
OK. So we’ve got a teenager in da house, a huge work life balance issue, a faltering house build, a relationship in limbo, an eviction notice, some catastrophic floods and horrendous weather with no end in sight, changes of schools for both kids (another story) and a dog. (forgot to mention her – she’s a good pup).
And I wonder why I feel like I’m on the brink.
I have had several periods since Renee passed, and I think I’ve written about it, of what I realise now to be my experience of depression. Which for me, presents as an insidious creeping apathy.
I slowly but surely start caring less and less about things that are worthy of care; The housework. Socialising. Answering the phone. Finances. My health. The kids. The dog. Me.
I lose passion for everyone and everything. I feel no joy in anything I do. I look forward to nothing. I have no opinion. I overindulge. Take risks. Don’t think. Don’t care. I just don’t give a shit. I’ve even stated before that if it weren’t for the kids, I wouldn’t care if I was here or not.
Scary. Confronting. Moreso because it’s only in hindsight that it is apparent and realised. 😔
But luckily, and I truly mean that, I have learnt to see the signs. Drinking too much. Not prioritising health. Procrastination. Intolerance. Laziness. Blaming. Anger, withdrawal and excuses. And I am slowly learning the things to pull me back from the edge.
But it’s been hard, and will continue to be. I acknowledge that this is part of my process, part of my recovery.
I’m on the way back up. 👏
I don’t have all, fuck not even most, of the answers. What I do know though is that I am fortunate to know myself well enough, to be honest enough with myself to be able to admit when I’m not ok. Many are not so fortunate.
And that is 80% of the battle.
It’s ok to not be.
It’s ok to hurt, to hate, to struggle.
It’s ok to be yourself, or not be yourself.
You don’t have to be all sunshine and lollipops.
YOU are the most important thing to you.
Take all the time you need. It is not selfish to prioritise you. I have been and will continue to do so,
because the only person or thing that can make you happy is YOU. ✌️