I had a horrible night, full of vile and dreadful dreams and woke up feeling tearful and fragile and very much like i simultaneously wanted everyone to go away and everyone to throw their arms around me. I had a feeling it was going to be a tough day and i was right. Josie chose ths morning to notice she’d really, truly weaned; she came in and asked for milk and when i regretfully said no, she crumpled up into a heap, slid to the floor, sobbed, begged and eventually crawled away crying like her heart was broken. I imagine it wouldn’t take a mindreader to guess how that made me feel 🙁
You know, i thought i couldn’t manage if i had any more babies, but i’m starting to think that babies are like my power source; when i’ve got one, when i’m fighting the odds, i cram more in, do more, do it better, feel more, love more, am happy. And now without that, i think i’m going to wither away; i think there is a piece of me which is quintessentially “mother of a little baby” and now i haven’t got it, i think there is a gap in me that is too big to ever be fixed. I think i knew it before i had children – and i know it now. I was thinking the other day that if Fran follows in my, my mum and my nana’s footsteps and has her first child at 24, i’ll be a grandparent in 15 years. That just made me feel full of rage and jealousy. I’d rather it was still me in 15 years. I’ve got no idea how to fix it; life just feels empty now, empty and with an edge of despair, the feeling of teetering precariously on the brink of dreadful emotional peril. And this when i know how lucky i am, how full life is. I just seem to have lost the power to enjoy it. That wasn’t even better on pills; i’ve spent most of the last year sidestepping around my children, because it hurts so much to engage with them. Some days i can hardly look them in the face and i think that is just going to get harder, the older they get. I hardly even know at least one of them anymore. It’s awful. It isn’t even work, it’s me, i’m just avoiding connecting with anyone. I feel like i’ve lost the piece of me that knows how to love and have fun. God, it’s hard enough to be upright anymore, nevermind talk to people. I’m wasting their childhood because i’m too mentally exhausted to enjoy it and too frightened of the shadow that hurls itself at me every time i notice i’m having fun.
Today was probably a bad day to read the end of HDM; but that’s how i feel, it was all written there on the pages. Last April, i ripped my own soul out and left it behind and now i’ve got to go on without it. And knowing well enough that i should be careful what i wish for, i daren’t even wish for oblivion. Because knowing my luck, i’d probably get it.