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I’ve been reading lots of fairy tales in preparation for my Nanowrimo story. I’m really excited about writing this one, its something that has been in the back of my mind for a while now.

This has always been one of my most favourite poems ever. We studied Edward Thomas in A Level English Literature and this is the most romantic love poem ever. From my very vague memories of English lessons in the portocabin I seem to think this was written towards the end of his life, when he realised how much his wife had given up for him. Helen looked after him through his whole life and sacrificed so much of herself for him. This is Edward admitting that he has taken so much from her and wishing that he could give her back her life, her youth and the power to choose a different path.

And you, Helen.

I’m hoping for a slightly more positive week this week. I’ve felt a little anxious and fraught over the last few days.

Starting off the week on a mag deadline is probably not going to be the most relaxing start to the week though, and neither is my visit to the Citizen’s Advice on Tuesday.

Still, I can hope can’t I?

I’m still trying to think through why I’ve been feeling anxious. Its all to do with me and hubby (of course, what isn’t these days) but I don’t know how to put it into words. I need to struggle through with it in my head for a bit longer I think.

All the worries and fears that I have been holding onto for years haven’t gone, they sometimes just like to hide and make me think they have gone. I still have days when I feel pretty worthless and like I am only good for looking after other people but not as many as I used to. I think the money side of my life is making me feel out of control, if I can get that sorted then everything else should be a bit easier.

So much to think about, plan for, worry about. I’m still concentrating too much on other people. That HAS to stop. I need to be honest about how I feel and not worry about hurting other people’s feelings when something little happens that I don’t like. Something the counselor told me the other week. Its hard though. Good job there are no BIG things going on at the moment. Ha.

Ugh. Its all a bit suffocating and much at the moment.

I do have some fiction that I’ve been writing that will trickle on here over the next few days. That will cheer me up. And prep work for Nano is in full swing AND I’m making a skirt to wear out on Friday night when I meet up with an old friend in London. So, is all good really. Just need to get out of my head for a while!

I know I’ve described my mental health as a walk along the edge of a cliff before. I was explaining to hubby the other day how my 2 tier scoring system for each day where I give a score for my mental health and a score for my day.
So the lovely day that I had shopping with my 12 yo was an 8/10 for the day but something like a 4/10 for the mental health score. I am capable of having good days while depressed, but they come at a price. Some days I float through the hours feeling confident and in control and other days I have to force myself to get out of bed, eat, drink and behave like a human.
The last week has been easier in many ways. I’ve had some really good mental health days as well as some just good days. I’m about to enter the dark period of my week without the kids but even that wasn’t too bad last week - I’m learning to fill my space and time with things that please me rather than letting myself just sit in one spot and stare at the wall all day.

Abyss of the disheartened by Heather Landis.

I found this photo by chance, but now can’t stop looking at it.

It is me.

There are so many interpretations and I’m sure everyone would see something different but this is what I see.

A woman, she is drowning. The water is up above her mouth. Soon she won’t be able to breathe any more and she will die. She is relaxed, she has given up, she is not struggling, she just is.

She has a man there with her but I’m not sure if he is holding her under or trying to save her. He has his arms wrapped tightly around her and his foot is on the floor, her feet are not on the floor, she is so close to drowning. Is he standing on the floor, taller than her so with his head above water, and clinging onto her - holding her in place even though he knows she will drown if he doesn’t let go?

Or is he about to push up and carry her above the water and save her.

I don’t know.

Does she know?

Does he?

Either way I know that he loves her. His arms are wrapped so tightly around her, his hands are spread wide like he is trying to touch as much of her as possible. His leg is wrapping up around her in a strangely sexual way.

But is he about to kill her or save her?

I feel really drawn to this image, it is disturbing, passionate and beautiful. Bit like me. Ha ha.

Edited to add - and now I’ve discovered its a book cover! Have ordered the book from amazon.

Its the little things that add up and make a difference. I’ve seen first hand over the last few months how lots of little negative things can add up so much that they go from being a small annoyance to being a weight too heavy to bear. Suddenly the little things are no longer little, they have gathered in number, weight and mass and are squashing and drowning you. Its so hard to explain how there actually wasn’t one thing that made me decide to leave my husband. That it doesn’t even make sense to say oh it was lots of little things because in the end it wasn’t even that.

It was everything and at the same time it was nothing. I just couldn’t cope. It feels as though I was standing out in the rain and suddenly I realised that I was up to my neck in water and couldn’t breathe. I had to get away from that before it was too late. The only way I knew how to do that was to leave. Nothing would have changed if I had stayed. It wouldn’t have worked. I still believe that now. Someone said to me last week that I couldn’t hope to heal when I was not in the same house as hubby but I respectfully disagreed. Well, what I actually did was shake my head and say I had to do what I did, it was the right thing and it would not have been right any other way. Because I do believe that.

I can see now that what I should have done was to move out of the way a long while ago while the raindrops were up around my ankles and not just ignore it until it threatened to drown me. But lots of things stopped me from doing that. Partly the depression, I know now that depression causes inaction and makes sufferers ignore what is happening in their lives. I know that depression can make you put on a happy face and pretend to the rest of the world that everything is OK even when it isn’t.

It wasn’t just the depression for me though. It was the depression together with a learned behaviour (not necessarily CORRECT but learned and believed) that I had to be perfect. I couldn’t ever admit to not being perfect, or having problems, or needing help because if I did SOMETHING BAD WOULD HAPPEN. Not a specific bad, but just something that would hurt me. And who wants to be hurt? It was easier to just pretend that everything was OK and not admit to anyone, especially my husband, how hard things were for me.

I was a prime candidate for depression before it started. See?

Learned behaviour which told me to put on a brave face and pretend that everything was OK when it wasn’t.
4 kids
Sole owner of a big company which sucked about 80 hours of my life each week
Not communicating with hubby about what I needed from him
Childcare, cooking, etc
Limited circle of friends
No hobbies that were not connected to family or work

Is it any wonder that I fell apart? I’m still hoping I can pick up the pieces and put myself back together. Who knows what the new me will look like, probably not like the old one but that’s OK. I can’t go back to being the old me. At this point I have no idea what the new me might be like, I hope I still like her, and its a big and scary risk to take. But going back to the old me would eventually have been the end of me. I haven’t ever planned to end my life but I’ve certainly believed that my family would be better off without me. I no longer feel like that (well, not every day anyway!) but its scary to know that the old me believed that and was edging towards being totally convinced of it. I have no idea whether I would have done anything, I hope not, but I can’t be sure. Scary. So the new me that I am working on at the moment will be different from the old me. How different, I just dont know.

BUT

I started by saying that little things can add up and become big things, and then went into the negative example. But its also true for good things.

My 2yo is lovely. Totally crazy but absolutely lovely. We ventured out this morning and spent a very short amount of time in a shopping centre. She wasn’t in her pushchair and I told her we could go in 2 shops before we had to go home. She chose the build a bear shop and we looked at EVERY bear in there and loved them all and then went into Clinton cards and bought a birthday card. She chats all the time and is so sweet and funny. When we were nearly back at the car she asked to go up the escalator. I said no because our car was parked on the same level we were and that we didn’t need to be upstairs. She looked so sad that I quickly changed my mind.

We spent about 10 minutes going up and down the escalator again and again with her giggling and holding onto my hand and whispering into my ear that we should do it “just one more time, mama, just once more”

It was crazy and silly and a very non mum thing to do but it was lovely. She chatted all the way back to the car, telling me some long story about a fox that was chasing us and wanted to eat her unicorn. I admit to not really listening as I realised that if I could get enough of these little happy moments surely they would do the same thing as all the sad moments did.

This weekend was full of happy moments. I was persuaded by the kids to go on a zipwire at the park yesterday. . It made them all laugh. I need to do something silly and fun and crazy every day I think. If I fill my head with fun and happiness then I can maybe get the same overwhelmed effect with goodness. Its got to be worth a try, right?

I thought I had written out all of my birth stories but it seems I missed out on number 4!

At my 20 week scan hubby and I were told that she was going to be big. This didn’t worry me, the last 2 had been over 9 pounds and I was prepared for another big baby. They asked me to come back in 4 weeks for another scan to check the growth. This didn’t help anyone as I was then told that the baby was going to be exceptionally large and that I might need to consider a cesarian.

Having had 3 babies with no pain relief at all this wasn’t an option for me. I went back for numerous scans and checks and they kept reiterating how large the baby was going to be and that they wanted to induce me at 38 weeks. I would have much prefered that they leave me alone to give birth naturally but in the end I was forced to give up my planned birth at the midwife led unit and agree to be induced 2 weeks early at the big hospital.

I turned up on the Monday morning, waited around for a few hours, and was examined and sent home. Back again on Tuesday morning while they started the induction. I was in no way ready, being not dilated at all and by Wednesday afternoon I was very bored indeed. I’d had 2 attempts at induction and the midwives were starting to mutter about consultants and taking other action.

The midwife I had on Wednesday was lovely, she totally understood my concerns about too much interference but did say that if I hadn’t started contracting properly by Thursday morning she would not be able to keep the consultant out of it. We both agreed that the mild contractions I was having would be helped along by my waters breaking and she agreed to have a go.

Poor baby was still so high up she couldn’t easily reach the bag of water. I was about 1cm dilated at this point and we ended up with hubby pressing down on the top of my stomach to get baby to move down far enough that midwife could break my waters. It worked and within an hour I was having nice contractions.

Because I was high risk and had had 3 quick labours before it was down to the labour room with me. I hadn’t realised that I would have to be on the monitor for the WHOLE of my labour, this wasn’t nice at all. I was determined to try and go natural again but scared that having been induced from being not ready at all it would be too difficult.

The 2 lovely midwives downstairs in labour room were great. They pretty much left me to it and hubby and I did our thing. He chatted, I ignored him and walked around as much as I could (given the fact that I was hooked up to a monitor)

Within 2 hours of being in the labour room I had gone from 1cm to 6cm. It started to get painful and I worried I wouldn’t be able to do it without drugs. The midwives were great and encouraging without being pushy. I said that I wanted to be done and back to a TV in time for Spooks but in the end that didn’t happen.

I can remember being so close, wanting to push and the midwives being down the other end of the room chatting amongst themselves. Hubby called them over and they examined me and said oh go on then if you want to. 2 pushes and she was out, all 9 pounds 10 of her - not the 12 pound monster we’d been promised.

She was perfect. Within 10 minutes the midwives were fetching me tea and toast and I was breastfeeding her and on the phone to my mum. She was so determined to feed that seh managed to keep drinking even when I was violently sick with hubby running around the room fetching bowls for me. An hour after she was born I had had a bath and was up in my lovely private room with her.

I came home the next day in time to pick the big kids up from school. Despite the fact that I was in hospital for the longest time than with any of them and had to be induced and strapped to a monitor this was probably one of the most straightforward labours out of all of them.

I’ve been blessed with my pregnancy and labours. All 4 of them have been perfect. Shame I’m not goign to get to do it again, but really - 4 is enough…

I’m going to set myself some goals for October. Nice easy goals that I will stick to without feeling too overwhelmed by them. I know that by doing things I enjoy that my mood will improve, the black dog has never been so put in his place as when I was running regularly. So here goes with my goals for October.

Wear something other than jeans at least two days a week.
Run three times a week. Just a mile a time if that’s all I can fit in.
Eat a proper meal every day. Even when the kids aren’t here! I enjoy cooking but get lazy.
Write for at least half an hour. Every day.
Spend half an hour a day either reading, knitting, sewing, baking or doing something like that.

Its also time to be a little bit positive around here. So here are some good things that have happened this week.

1 - amazing conversations with hubby about me, and us, and him and where we are and what we’ve been through and whether I’m going to survive this! He constantly surprises me with what he is learning about himself and about our relationship and how he deals with it. Big high 5 to him. xx
2 - Good work meeting in Bar Hill. I work with some clever people, we need to remind ourselves of that more often.
3 - Evening on the sofa watching DVDs with my beautiful 12 year old. She is so good for me at the moment, she loves me unconditionally and is so grown up and funny.
4 -Shopping with my lovely big girl. We had the best day ever.

This song has touched me. I listened to it about 10 times in a row on the way home yesterday. I do love Alanis Morissette, usually for her swearing, shouting girl power self, but this song makes me feel both sad and happy at the same time. I think it is what I want. To know that no matter what happens to me, I will be OK.

“That I Would Be Good”

that I would be good even if I did nothing
that I would be good even if I got the thumbs down
that I would be good if I got and stayed sick
that I would be good even if I gained ten pounds

I’m getting ready for this year’s NanoWriMo.

I want to write something like I’ve never written before.

Something that is not about me at all in any way shape or form.

Something that I would want to pick up and read.

I’m making plans in my head at the moment about the main character and the point of the story. The actual story will unfold as I write it. I never really know what’s going to happen in the stories that I write until it does. I remember being quite cross with Sarah, the main character in the book I rediscovered yesterday, when she was going in a direction that I hadn’t wanted for her. Its like she took on a life of her own as I was writing. I LOVE that.

To achieve the 50,000 words in a month you need to write 1666 words a day. I’m going to go for 3 hours writing on the day that I dont have the children here with me and less on the days that I do have them.

Really excited about this. I may write it all online here for you to read as I go.

The point of Nanowrimo is that you write. You don’t edit. You just get into a routine and write. Get it all out there.

Fun!