If our life was a circus, every ball, actor, venue, booking and act would currently be hanging off a trapeze, or be up in the air, uncontracted, not paid the fee or possibly be a sobbing heap of luvvy-dom in a caravan somewhere.
I don’t know where to start with how much everything is dangling and unsorted and undecided or waiting on people.
I can’t even start to tell you how much I – and far too many of my girls – are at the whim of other people making decisions, their tempers or their own (not doubt equally) difficult lives.
I’m dreadful with change and uncertainty and not being in control. If change needs to happen, I just want it to happen so I can get on with it. I find uncertainty paralysing.
So the good things are:-
- we have a little more money than we’ve had for a while.
- the business is fine (no worries there particularly).
- nobody is dead.
The not so good things:-
- Maddy has a thyroid cyst.
- something about Fran is ‘just not right’ but blood tests have not yet revealed it.
- Josie just can’t wait to leave school but I can’t yet make it happen till a few balls settle.
- Amelie is just miserable and struggling in so many bits of her life and it is intensely hard to watch – and parent – and have sympathy for. I so want life to be easier for her.
- I’m constantly feeling like I’m the problem in areas of my life where loyalty and commitment is making me keep going back but my head just keeps saying ‘fuck it’.
- I’m exhausted and emotionally under-nourished (as are we all) and I don’t know how to change it.
- We are waiting on a big (potentially huge) decision and I’m powerless to speed it up.
- I’m not getting enough time with Bene.
- My anxiety is through the roof. It’s hard for people to understand that I see every tiny problem or illness as potential death and even if those are under control, I can spiral into predicting imminent disaster without being able to stop it.
- Sodding GCSEs and AS levels. Enough already.
I can’t write about the gym. I can’t write about the kids. I have almost no remaining contact with friends to emotionally unpack or even just laugh. I’m being bullied in a place I can’t escape from without impacting most of the girls and I’m not home or with Max in a relaxed way enough to medicate that with happier times.
I can’t blog, I can’t write, I can’t do enough creative work. If I speak to anyone I know (with really only 1 or 2 definite exceptions) that it will go straight back to people who forget I’m a human and just lay into me again.
I’m wishing I didn’t have so many children to worry about because I’m so through the roof with stress I can’t enjoy it.
That’s a horrible wish, particularly from me.
In May Amelie turned 13 and Fran turned 17.
I didn’t blog either thing.
Fran, Amelie and Josie did some fantastic competition stuff and I didn’t blog it.
Bene is being wonderful – funny, clever, good company – and my blog hardly knows him.
Maddy is an inspiration to me – her writing, her strength, her academic ability – and I never write it down.
I gardened, tidied, decorated, decluttered – and I forgot to pat myself on the back.
Even the sodding rabbits are causing trouble.
I’ll be back tomorrow with a more optimistic remember of half term when I feel less black.
I suppose one good thing is that if the big decision works out, I won’t have to blog for money any more.