The problem with not blogging for so long is that there just turns out to be so much to say that I just don’t know where to start – or end. And seeing as all the things I’d like to blog about are what is taking up all my time, blogging ends up being the last item on my agenda each day. I go to bed with a list a page long of all the things I was supposed to do, but didn’t, it only goes to follow that blogging, each time doesn’t get a look in.
So where to begin tonight when a couple of mid afternoon coffees mean I am actually not falling asleep in my chair at 8pm?
In fact, that general feeling of ‘where do I start?’ is what overwhelms me most days. That, and how do I prioritise all the gazillion things I am supposed to be doing?
This came to a head a few weeks back, with me finding myself at the GP, suffering from severe indigestion, which I knew was just a mask of what I am really suffering – severe anxiety.
Lovely gorgeous GP has set me up a mental health plan and as soon as I find the time to make an appointment I will start seeing a psychologist to work through all the things that keep me so busy all day and then awake half the night.
Most of what keeps me busy is all about the boys. 3 boys, 3 very different sets of needs. Only one pair of hands. Not enough time. Not enough energy. Never enough done.
But there’s also more at the moment on the ‘me’ front. Meaning, my impending 40th birthday,in just 2 months time. This in itself doesn’t really stress me out. It’s not a garden variety mid-life crisis I am having, but a reflection of the fact that in 18 months, when I am 41, I will become older than my mother. That just defies all logic and has my head in a spin. As though deep down I don’t believe it’s actually possible. So along with that comes a yearning for my mum. Missing her all over again like when she first passed away and wishing she were here. Also a lot of reflection on my own life and where I am compared to where she was when she died. And of course, worst of all, a lot of reflecting on my own mortality. And garnering belief that I can become older than her without the whole time continuum falling apart.
Hoping that talking through that will help, though deep down I have a feeling that just reaching 41 and then making it to 42 will probably do the trick.
Also doing the trick is my running. I had to take a break for a couple of months because of injury (and nothing like a hip injury of no clear origin to make you feel old!). But now that I’ve recovered, I’ve been running a lot over the past few weeks. Every day. If there’s one consistent theme of any health professional I see, it’s that exercise will help with the anxiety. And it bloody does. Also makes me feel so much better about myself. I sleep better when I run, I am less grumpy, less tired. Generally a nicer person to be around. I know this must be true, because my husband has even started to encourage me – sending me off for runs when I am becoming a pain in the neck to be around.
I am sure the exercise is also doing my body a lot of good. My back is always in better shape when I run and I just feel more healthy. and alive. importantly.
A quick round up of the boys (more to come):
S is worn out, totally. Needing lots of time off school. He’s tired and emotional. He’s also started seeing a psychologist for his own anxiety issues (an unfortunate genetic gift I’ve passed on).
He’s learnt so so much already this year that I’ve made the decision that any school he attends this term is a bonus and just giving him as much room as he needs to rest and recuperate. It’s been such a massive year for him. I am so proud.
M is kicking lots of goals with his speech and overall communication and social skills, but yet today we were at RCH for the first of several appointments to see if he doesn’t fall somewhere on the autism spectrum. Still undecided myself, but the fact they didn’t kick me out and tell me I was worrying about nothing at least tells me something is up. Just not sure what yet.
A, my gorgeous baby A is just not anymore, a baby that is. He’s a terrorsome, temper throwing, demanding, exhausting toddler. I had forgotten just how much hard work that can be. He runs rings around me and the rest of the family most days. He’s very much a ‘typical’ textbook toddler and I know better than to complain about that…But oh, there are days when I do so look forward to him being 3 .
So that’s the short story. Not so short after all (sorry), of where we are at. Not going to promise super regular updates, but sure as hell going to try to get to the end of my list each day and blog on at least some days. Especially because I know it’s definitely another way to reduce my anxiety. Brilliant therapy this. Even if there’s no-one reading .