For the last few weeks I have been busy.
Work being fuckers.
Fighting with schools and service providers for Boo.
Birthday week and the party that is the social event of the YEAR.
Dark thoughts pushed back, exhaustion told to fuck the fuck off, telling myself that everything is sunshine and rainbows and keeping very very busy.
My mind racing with everything that needed to be done, doing forty things at once almost in a manic state.
Freaking out, snapping, taking things personally, drinking more than usual.
Forgetting what I was doing, procrastinating, realising that I have pulled a room apart when I just went to put something away.
Classic, textbook fucking denial.
Now the birthdays and parties are over.
MPS is dealing with his brothers estate.
The work mandated neuro told them to give me a fucking break.
The house is picked up, just the mundane usual to do.
And now I am coming down from the ‘high’ of the last month.
The bone crushing exhaustion is back.
The sleepless nights.
The sudden blinding panic.
Not as slowly this time. No creeping up behind me, where I whirl around and it is gone and I wonder what happened.
This time harder. Faster.
My head is whirling.
Vertigo kicking my arse.
Every part of my body is heavy.
Typing is an effort.
Brushing my teeth and hair and pulling on my clothes an exercise in endurance.
I don’t want to be where I was a few months ago.
I don’t want to go back there again.
What do I do?
What do I do?
I treat myself kindly.
Ask others to do the same.
I will post about the fucking AWESOME party.
The ‘tutorials’ I promised.
But I don’t have to do them today.
But I can.
If I want.
Breathe in and out.
Wear clothes and matching shoes.
Look after my children.
Brush my hair and teeth.
Come down slowly.
One foot at a time.
Everything else is gravy.