Ramblings from a confused mind

Ramblings. I apologise now, this post is probably going to be long, and all over the show and thoughts spurted out of my brain as I think them. Sometimes things in life are easier said when they aren’t edited and fluffed around with too much. (although I may edit this slightly so it makes sense haha). Also am sorry about the amount of times I may swear in this. Am not feeling very censor-able right now.

I read this quote on a blog yesterday and I guess it resonated with me a bit: “They will want to help but, they won’t know how.  Since I’m an only child, I learned to be alone. I don’t allow people in, people don’t know anything about me under the surface. But the ones that do know me, they know too much because I become overly reliant on them.”

I was basically an only child. My parents were always pretty busy doing their work (self employed) and I had to fit in time with them around it (although they were really good and always did things with me in their spare time). So, yeah I learned to be alone. I was happy playing by myself though. I didn’t feel like I always needed someone around. In fact mostly I liked being alone, and still do now as it helps me think about things and chill out a bit. It gets a bit much with hubby and my daughter jumping all over me and talking to me all the time. I’m a bit of a quiet person in that respect, I need my space. Sometimes though I think I have my own space too much. I need people. And when I get depressed I push everyone away. Which is probably the worst thing I could do. Hubby always tells me to go see some of my friends, and while I would love to and know I would have fun, at the same time I just don’t want to. It feels too hard. I wouldn’t know what to say. Questions would get asked that I just don’t know what the answers are. I feel awkward in social situations, even around my best friends sometimes. It really bugs me. I wish I had even one really really close friend nearby, who would just show up at my house and take me out for a drink, or come give me tissues when I need to cry. Someone who is always there when I need them……I don’t have anyone like this and it makes me really sad. Yet at the same time, I know friendships need a lot of work and it is a two way street..I can’t just expect that of someone without returning the favour, and it just feels too hard right now. So again, I remain by myself. I am my own worst enemy. I sabotage my own chances. I used to do this all the time, I would get invited to something and decline because I “had something on”. I actually didn’t, it was usually because it was going to something that would make me feel too awkward and nervous. Or couldn’t go to without hubby….I think he’s like my safety net for things like that.

You know what? I care too  much about what other people think about me. I don’t wear certain clothes even though I would love to because I don’t want other people thinking I look funny or weird. I bought some boots this winter that I LOVE yet have only worn them once because I don’t want people thinking I look like a hooker or something (lol). They have big chunky heels, are knee length and have zips up the side. Stupid though, if I like them I should wear them!

I don’t like people staring at me. Some days I would love to go for a walk up the road yet I don’t because it is a busy road and I don’t want people watching me while I walk. I hate it because I love going for walks!! I would love to ride a bike again as I haven’t since I outgrew my old bmx when I was like 14, but once again, I’m too nervous about what other people might think or look at me. Yet the funny thing is, sometimes I do get kitted up in my tight walking clothes (yes tight…bought specifically to look good lol) and go for a walk in the hopes guys will look at me. I like dressing up all nice and feeling sexy and going shopping or whatever and seeing people look at me. Seriously, I don’t know what the fuck is up with my head sometimes. I shouldn’t need that. Shouldn’t need the thrill of guys turning their heads when I walk down the road. Shouldn’t need to be scared of going out in public because someone might look at me. At the end of the day, no one really cares about anyone else anyway! They are all busy going about their own lives to worry about me. Some probably even have the same feelings I do – “don’t look at me!”

Hubby doesn’t get it. He knows when I’m sad or depressed usually but he doesn’t have the magical answers to make me feel better. I know I shouldn’t rely on someone else to make me happy either, what’s that saying – happiness begins within yourself or something? He doesn’t know why I’m feeling the way I am…..but of course neither do I sometimes.

I guess it’s just a whole mess of things really. It’s winter for a start which means I don’t even get to see the sun a lot of the time, and of course when the sun does show it’s face, I’m stuck in the stupid office. By the time I finish work, the sun is going down. I know sunlight is an important part of how people feel. Also, I’ve just gotten over another stupid chest infection, thankfully nowhere near as bad as the pneumonia. Bills. Bills never help. Money stress sucks. Trying to sort out my stupid tax return so the IRD don’t sting me. Stress over that. Big stress. Trying to save money for our holiday in October. Wanting things I can’t have right now (car, house etc) and being jealous over people that do have them. Not enough time in the day to get everything done that needs doing around the house, spending time with the family and trying to have some ME time as well. That one is damn near impossible. The only me time I’m really getting is when I’m on facebook, or sewing! And that isn’t really me time, it’s more – trying to make us some extra money time. It’s not like I’m actually making things for me, or for our house etc….it’s all about trying to sell. And to be honest, sometimes I just feel like giving up and just making it a hobby. Making whatever I want, whenever I want. and if someone doesn’t like it, who cares. But I can’t just give it up. It’s important. And sometimes the things in life that are important, are the hardest. I just need some “stickability” – which I feel I already have quite a bit of, considering I’m still married! (as a side note by the way, we are actually doing pretty well in that respect – going out to the movies a few times by ourselves, treating each other  better etc..)

BUT I’m feeling very lonely lately. And not knowing what to do with myself. Getting very frustrated at the hubby and daughter, especially when they aren’t doing the things I’ve asked fast enough. But nothing ever seems to please me. I just want to say FUCK THE WORLD. But the world seems to fuck me right back. I’ve been so impulsive buying things. Fabric. I can’t seem to stop buying it. Even when I’ve spent sooo much money lately and people just aren’t buying stuff off me. I just spent like $200 buying some in from the US. And I bought a set of DVD’s that I’ve wanted for ages…they were a really good bargain. but still. I’ve got bills coming out my ears. Daycare. Car repairs. Doctors bills. The normal rent, power, internet, insurances. Food. I swear we are going to go broke buying food. I just want to be able to have our own house but we are NEVER going to get there the way we are going!! I hate it! And yet I can’t seem to stop us from buying things. It’s not an instant gratification either, I will buy something and be like YAY for a minute and then good old buyers remorse comes around to kick me in the ass. Especially when I tell off hubby for buying something and then I go right ahead and buy what I want! So not cool. Sex….is a nothing for me at the moment. Don’t want it, don’t want to think about it. Totally turned off to everything. Which is also frustrating me. I wish I could just enjoy it and do it all the time.

I dunno. I just feel like everything I do lately is a waste of time and everything is hopeless. I spent all day the other day trying to sort out my IR3 tax returns….only to send them in and then realise I hadn’t done a form that was meant to go with them and now means I fucked up the whole return and am now having an appointment with an accountant tomorrow to try and sort it out!! Yeah like I can afford that, but I have got to get that stress under control. The house is a fucking pigsty and I just cannot be bothered anymore. The amount of times I have asked hubby to get off his computer and do something, even just getting rid of his dinner scraps on his plate, or putting his towel away after his shower, or getting H another drink..and he says “yeah in a minute”. Well that minute is the longest minute in the history of the world. Eventually I either ask him again or just give up and do it myself. But in also saying that, I’m just as bad at the moment. I cannot be bothered cleaning most of the time, although I did have a random spurt the other weekend where I cleaned out one of our freezers and cleaned the bathroom….probably the most I have done in awhile. Which is sad. And fucking lazy. What the hell are we doing….we are teaching our child super bad habits. God there is so many things I wish I could change about myself and my life but I just have no idea where or how to start. Sleep might be nice for a start. I hardly got any of that last night with H coughing most of the night….actually I can’t remember when I had a full night’s uninterrupted sleep.

I was driving the other day and all of a sudden it’s like I just tuned out. I just turned on the autopilot it seemed, and was driving automatically without even thinking about it. And yet I just wanted to keep driving and see where I ended up, without a purposeful place to go. I was meant to be getting the groceries and going home but suddenly I just didn’t want to. I thought about driving to the beach and just walking for hours and not telling anyone where I was going.

This is going to sound crazy. But lately every time I’ve been driving by myself, particularly at night time, I find myself eyeing up power poles or big trees. I feel so tempted to just swerve into them. The other day I was driving and I was so intent on watching for a good one that I crept over into the other lane by accident.   Luckily there was no one around at the time. I even picked out a perfect pole, with a huge tree right behind it….right in front of the hospital which is rather hilarious…..in a twisted way. I want to crash into one, yet want to do it in front of the hospital so I have the best chance of not dying because the doctors are right there….how fucked up is that lol.

I was crossing the road the other day and I had to wait for some cars to go past and I thought…just walk out. I didn’t obviously. And I haven’t because I don’t want to fuck up anyone else’s life. It’s one thing to destroy your own life, but for the other person who is the one who hits you with their car, or finds you crashed into a tree, or even your family  left behind….nah I can’t do that to anyone. Doesn’t mean I don’t feel like it though. The funny thing is as well as affecting someone elses life, the other reason that I haven’t done anything about it is because I’m too scared of dying. I want that release and escape, but I don’t want it to be so final, if you know what I mean. The other weird thing is, even though I have had all of this on my mind, I haven’t been self harming at all….Normally that would be my first go-to, but it hasn’t even been on my agenda for a little while. Very weird and not like me. Not sure how long that will last.

Yes I am aware I sound very crazy and depressed.  Maybe I am. Maybe I just have been all along and haven’t managed to climb out of the hole yet. Maybe the way out is further away than I thought.

Well, at least I’m still here anyway.  I feel like I need to get drunk. Which in itself is probably the start of the next cycle. I always seem to do that…..a couple of drinks on one weekend, which turns into a drink every day for awhile, self harm returns for awhile, then I stop both for a few months. I guess pressure mounts up and I need a fix again. Now I sound like an alcoholic lol, which I’m not. Well…whatever helps at the time, right? One day at a time. Breathe.

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The crappiest Christmas ever and welcome to 2015

So – welcome to 2015.  Despite a really shitty start to the year, I’m determined that this one is going to be good!!  Once I get back on track that is.

So, why was Christmas crappy? Oh, maybe it was the fact that I could have died and was stuck in the hospital!!

Back to the beginning…my daughter picked up a cough (possibly from daycare) and was quite unwell for a couple of weeks. I took her to the doctor and they gave her an inhaler to try and help as she wasn’t breathing so well. She improved though – once she had given the bug to both myself and my hubby. DH only had a cough. Me – well, it started as a random sore throat and bit of a funny nose, which cleared up within a day. I got home from work on the friday feeling like crap, watched a movie on the couch, then it hit me. I ached allllll over, I literally fell to the floor and had to drag myself down the hall to bed as I was in a lot of pain. The next day I felt better. But then the cough started. And never stopped. It was so bad that it kept me up all night coughing. I didn’t get sleep for about 4 days. I was trying to sleep propped up on a pillow but still couldn’t. Then I started not being able to breathe properly. I was getting puffed just walking down the hallway. I ended up using my daughter’s inhaler just so I could breathe for awhile and get some sleep. I figured it would just clear up in a couple of days. Boy was I wrong.

By sunday night I knew something wasn’t right and thought it must be a chest infection as I was coughing up big green blobs of crap…so made a doctors appointment for the next day. The doctor listened to my chest…over and over for about 5 mins, all over and up and down my back. usually they just listen once or twice and go yep all sounds good. This time she said i sounded really crackly and wanted to send me for a chest x-ray and blood test. Then she realised it was only a few days until christmas so rang the hospital and asked if I could see a medical registrar for a second opinion and get them to do it all at once so I didn’t have to stuff around. I was supposed to be going to work straight after the doctors so I had to ring in sick and tell them I had to go to the hospital for tests.

So got down to the hospital and parked the car…then had to walk up the bloody stupid hill to get to the front entrance. Almost killed me. Got to the reception desk and was totally out of breath and couldn’t talk. Finally I managed to eke out between gasps “sorry… hill. Dr referred me to see someone” and was pointed to the emergency department. And waited and waited. Finally I was called through to be seen…had blood pressure etc taken and was told I wasn’t looking very well. They put an ID tag on me and sent me back to the waiting room where I almost suffocated myself trying to stop coughing as I didn’t want all the other people waiting there to think I was going to get them all sick. FINALLY they called me back in when a room was ready. A nurse put an IV lure in my arm and I had to put on a hospital gown…and then sat down to wait AGAIN. I was so starving by this time as I hadn’t had any lunch before heading to the hospital so I asked for a drink and something to eat. Had blood tests, had to do a sputum and urine test, waited so long, finally got seen by a doctor. Took me to a different room where I had to wait forever again. Got put on a nebuliser and had a chest xray. Finally the doctor came to see me again (this was about 5pm) and she said they were going to admit me. I was pretty gutted. but had no idea how sick I actually was.

So finally once a bed became free up on the ward, they sent me up. I was on the top floor and I got a lucky room – had a nice view outside, had my own toilet, TV and phone 🙂 So room 13, ward 16 became my home. And so began the routines of blood pressure monitoring, pill popping, nebulisers, oxygen, IV fluids and antibiotics, nurses in my room every 10 mins.  For the first two days I was on constant oxygen, and nebulisers every hour. Needless to say I didn’t get much sleep that first night. The next day, the 23rd they told me I was very sick and had bilateral pneumonia – basically pneumonia in both lungs. They said I probably wouldn’t be out before Christmas. I was GUTTED but tried to stay positive, as there was still one day  – room for improvement!

I had been on IV fluid, but they had to stop them as my hand swelled up randomly and they thought I was on too much fluid. and then my potassium was low so had to have potassium pills – blergh!

Needless to say my hopes were dashed by the doctors on christmas eve. No I would NOT be out for Christmas. I cried in front of all 4 of them. and when they went out of the room to confer with my latest blood results, I just lay there and looked out at the sky with tears running down my cheeks. I couldn’t believe my rotten luck. I was so looking forward to that last week with Holly getting ready for santa and looking forward to a nice roast turkey out at mum and dad’s on christmas day. We had even been planning to go to the christmas parade on christmas eve. Instead I was stuck in hospital. Doctors said I might be allowed out for a couple of hours on christmas day depending on  my condition. So hubby & I decided we would delay christmas and not open any of Holly’s presents until after I got out (thinking it might be the day after or so).

So Christmas day came, and it felt just like any other crappy day. Had a lovely surprise visit from an old workmate whos sister works in the surgical ward. Talked to my parents on the phone but it just wasn’t the same. They didn’t want to brave the holiday traffic to come and visit me. My blood pressure had been a bit wack the night before but was better by morning. They said i could go out for up to 8 hours if I was feeling up to it. So we organised that Dh would pick me up after my lunch at 1.30. While I waited for him they came to do my BP and heart rate and stuff again. Apparently my heart rate was quite high so they weren’t going to even let me go out at all! Then they said it was on my own head, it was going to be risky and I was only allowed to go for a couple of hours but to come straight back or call for an ambulance if I went downhill fast. And I wasn’t allowed to go out to the inlaws where we were going to go for a nice afternoon with Holly, but to just go to our house which is a 5 min drive from the hospital. Still, we made it out in one piece and boy it was so good to be in the fresh air and sunshine!!! and seeing my girl and having such a big smile on her face when she saw me made it all worthwhile. She kept asking questions about my IV lure though and knew I was sick (even though we had told her I was away for work – DH had been away for actual work the previous 2 weeks so she was used to it). We figured it was better that way so she wasn’t asking all the time where I was and then if she came to see me in hospital it wouldn’t be a big drama. I did miss her heaps though! but it was good to have a break and not have to worry about her. I tried not to think of her too much while I was in there as I would get quite emotional. So in the end I had a nice 2 hours out of the hospital, got to have a shower, and repacked my bag with more useful stuff (DH had packed lots of uncomfy clothes etc lol). And I needed more movies to watch.

Left back for the hospital at 5 so would be there for my “christmas dinner” at 5.30 – which was crap! (God I missed my roast!) On the way in the car I noticed I was getting a slight cramp in my foot but it went away. Back to the hospital and DH left. Had dinner. Then I was just starting to watch a movie and WHAMMO – got cramp in both legs and feet sooooo bad. I was in agony. Called in a nurse after about 10 mins of it not going away and he came in and used hot towels to try and massage it. Nothing. Called in another nurse and she massaged and tried to flex my feet to get rid of it. Nothing. I paced around my room for about another half hour pressing the crap out of my foot to try and get rid of it, and then finally it eased. Never had cramp that bad in my life. Shortly after that, another nurse came in to do my blood pressure and stuff. She was very alarmed as my heart rate was up at 140 – she said it was almost double what it should be. Then WHAM – chest pain. Amazingly sore chest pain, centered somewhere around my left breast. I actually thought I was having a heart attack or something. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t more without searing pain. Called the nurse AGAIN and they were very concerned, and ordered an emergency chest xray as they said it could be a collapsed lung or a blood clot! yikes. way to scare a girl. I was in so much pain during the xray, I couldn’t stop coughing and gasping for breath and clutching my chest. Funny thing was Xray technician said I had an uneven sternum?? collarbone?? or something – apparently my right side was crooked or something – might explain why I’m always getting stiff shoulders on my right side!

Anyway, finally back to  my room and they give me panadol and codeine to try and get rid of the pain. Which it didn’t, but did help somewhat. But all that night I was in agony every time I rolled over or tried to move. Turns out it wasn’t anything major, it was musculo-skeletal or something – basically muscular pain. And there was nothing much they could do for it except give me panadol.

Gah – what a way to spend Christmas night!!! I was so scared and in so much pain. Honestly thought I was going to die or something. It was awful.

Anyway…finally started reduced nebulisers etc, got my IV lure taken out….I was hoping to be out saturday but they weren’t so sure. But in the end yes, I finally got discharged saturday – almost a week after I was admitted. To be perfectly honest, I probably shouldn’t have said I was ok to go – I was still in quite a lot of pain and still having nebulisers which were helping me breathe better. But I really wanted to be out so we could have our christmas with Holly that we had planned for the sunday. We stayed out at the inlaws that night and I had a great sleep that night. Went home on sunday and opened presents – was great to see Holly have fun but I was pretty tired and over it all by then so didn’t really care about mine. Then I started not breathing very well again and got very panicky and upset – almost got Dh to drive me back to the hospital again. But I got through it.

Had 3 more days of antibiotics, then I went back to my doctor. She said I was still quite crackly sounding and my heart rate was still very high. So was going to send me for a chest CT scan. So far I’ve got an appointment next wednesday for lung function tests, but haven’t heard anything about a CT scan yet.

Things are slowly getting back to normal. I can breathe again. I’ve been for little walks around the block. I can cook dinner now and do dishes etc. I even baked a cake the other day. Yesterday I managed to get some sewing done! And I’ve been back at work since monday. Hopefully it doesn’t take me too long to recover from this, although I’ve heard it can take up to 6 months! and hopefully my heart rate calms down too and there’s nothing bad going on there.

So yeah, that was my Christmas! Let’s hope this year is going to take a far better turn from here on in!

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What makes me unique

So on the back end of World Suicide Prevention Week, which one of my fantastic friends wrote some awesome blog posts about here http://betterbutnotwell.wordpress.com/ I thought I would write a bit about the theme of this year – no one else can play your part.

This is so true. Everyone in the world is a complete individual, no one likes the same things, and no one does things the same as another person. We are all unique. And no one else has lived the same life as what you have….or how you will live your life in the future.

So I decided to sit down and write some things that I love, that are important to me and that make me who I am:

Family, friends, flowers, sunsets, sewing, fabric, cats, the beauty of New Zealand, food, movies, reading, Waipu Cove, Star Wars, Harry Potter, books, the beach, shells, art, beautiful scenery, photography, the moon, weather, snow, christmas, jigsaw puzzles, Linkin Park, music, Lord of the Rings, old houses, travel, Europe, hot rods, gardens, games, bbq’s and cider, nature, animals, walking, sunshine, vintage things. Being creative, emotional, shy, loving, kind, caring, a good listener, intelligent, stubborn, untidy, procrastinating, pretty, petite, funny, and totally weird and wacky 🙂 hehe the last one runs in my family – we are crazy but totally AWESOME.

So this is me. No one else like me in all the world. No one else can play my part.

So…that also got me thinking….what is my part? What part have I played in life so far?

I am a wife, a mother of an incredible little girl. I have a fur baby. I live in one of the most beautiful countries in the world (yes I am a bit biased…especially seeing as I haven’t seen many others in person!). I am the daughter of great parents. I have 3 half siblings.

I was born in New Zealand’s largest city and lived there until i was 5…when we shifted north and lived on a farm. My childhood consisted of riding my bike, running around the farm, feeding the ducks on the dam, riding over the cow race to see my best friend who lived on the next farm to us, spending my school holidays at my grandparents house at Waipu Cove with all my cousins, helping my parents with their capsicum business, playing netball on the weekend, and of course the usual school stuff. Then came the smoking phase at about 15…then the drinking and party phase from about 16-18. When I was 17 in  my final year of high school I met my husband and after I graduated we moved down to Auckland where I was supposed to go to university but didn’t. I got a job instead. From there…the sweet and innocent little girl I had been changed. My boyfriend and I had a lot of problems and cheated on each other. Fights happened. He moved home. So did I a few months later. We moved back in with our own parents until a year later when I moved in with him. His parents got sick of us and bought us a house to live in. We have been there 7  years now. In that 7 years we got married, had our daughter, started my sewing business, got bad post natal depression, I had an affair, almost split up, sorted things out and are now working to become better parents and better to each other as husband and wife. Phew.

So basically this is me in a nutshell. That’s a very quick rundown of my life so far. What’s ahead for me, who knows. (hopefully travel!! lol)

But this life is mine and mine only. No one else can be me.

Take care of yourself. Love the things that matter to you. Be fabulous. Love yourself. There is only one of you in all the world, and we only get one life to life. Make that life count.

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The C word.

My brother has liver cancer. Today he starts 24 weeks of chemo. He will probably need a transplant. And I feel horrible just thinking about it.

He is my younger of two older half brothers from my dad. He was like 12 when i was born, and he was my best buddy until I was about 4 when he moved to Australia to live with his aunty. Since then, i have seen him once, back in 2002 when I went over on a school trip. Once in 24 years.  My parents went over to visit him last year, that was the first time they had seen him since he left as well. We went for years without even hearing from him, without knowing whether he was alive or dead or in jail. He got into a bad crowd over there and was on drugs and stuff and people were after him in a bad way, and as far as I know he wasn’t allowed to leave the country. I don’t really know exactly what went on…my parents don’t exactly tell me a lot, so I’ve heard snippets of conversation over the years. My parents grew capsicums for a living and we never had much money, so trips were pretty much out of the question, even if they had been in contact and knew where to find him. Then a couple of years ago, he got in contact again. Things had changed for the better. Him and dad made up which was fantastic, and I’m so glad they got to spend some time together.

I hate the fact that I’ve missed out on so much time with him. All my life he’s been “gone”. I wanted to see him so badly but couldn’t. And now he has cancer and is very sick. And I don’t want him to be gone for real. I’m scared of missing out on more…what we could have had all this time. I’m thinking about getting our passports sorted and taking a trip over to see him, just in case. I want him to meet my daughter and husband. I want to say to him all the things I haven’t been able to say in the past. And now I may lose him to cancer? Fuck that.

Cancer sucks.

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War & Peace

There is a constant battle going on in my head. Unlike other wars such as WWII, I can’t put a start date on when war was declared.  It’s been going on for awhile. Some days the white flag goes up and there is a temporary surrender. Other days it’s a full on raging battle with cannon fire in all directions, and no medics in sight. I didn’t ask to be a part of this war. I didn’t join the lines of eager young men waiting to enlist. I don’t want to be here. I want to be safe at home. But wait…home is my battlefield. And I’m not entirely safe there.

I let some of the secret out on friday. I had a catch up with some of my good friends and I ended up telling them most of what has happened in the past couple of years with the depression and cheating etc. They were pretty shocked. One of them asked if maybe I was bipolar. I didn’t tell them about the self harming though. I felt like I had shared enough. It wasn’t entirely a relief telling them. I do feel slightly better but at the same time I’m now wondering what they think of me now, knowing all I’ve done and that my brain is screwed up.

Last night was not a good night for me. The cannons were out in full force. No white flag to be found. I’ve been pretty emotional and ragey lately and last night it came to a head. I’ve been feeling pretty ignored by hubby as he has been playing a computer game and talking to a friend on skype or listening to music with his headphones, I go in to talk to him and he doesn’t hear me. H has been constantly watching movies and things like Dora on youtube in our bedroom where the computers are and I haven’t had the energy to deal with her, so I’ve been out in the lounge watching Greys Anatomy. Last night she was tired because she didn’t sleep at daycare. I said I was going to get dinner ready and when it was cooked I took it down to them…she was asleep on the bed and hubby was still playing his game with the earphones on. I got pretty pissed off at him. Then later when it was bedtime, H just WOULD NOT go to sleep. And I’m STILL in this stupid fucking routine of her lying on my lap to go to sleep. So we sat there for an hour and she still wasn’t asleep and I was crying and she kept asking for hugs from daddy. So I just said NO you are going to bed. Put her in her cot and she started screaming. I ended up going back in there, screaming at her to go to sleep, slamming the door and kicking another door shut, going out to the lounge and screaming and then collapsing on the couch in tears hugging my legs. Hubby ended up coming out to see what the hell was going on and I was just sitting there in a right old state, couldn’t look at him, could only yell I’ve had enough, I can’t do this anymore, I don’t want to be a mum anymore, I want her gone. (What kind of person says that about their daughter?! A fucked up one, that’s what.)

I told hubby after we had gone to bed that I’m not in a good place right now and that I had self harmed the other week. He said he was sorry he had been ignoring me a bit. He said it was because of the job he’s on at the moment, he’s working so hard (which I know). He said things are going to change and that he will help me out  more. Well I will wait and see.

It’s not just things like that that are sending me over the edge at the moment. I’m so irrationally anxious about Holly getting sick again. She’s got another cough at the moment and each little cough or hiccup or funny sound I’m immediately on edge waiting for her to throw up or something. My heart starts racing and pounding out of my chest and I can’t focus on anything. The other night she coughed quite a few times in her sleep and as soon as I heard her I was on edge and couldn’t sleep the rest of the night. Then I end up with an upset stomach after.

FUCK THIS. I don’t want to be in this place. Where the hell has my white flag gone? I want peace. I’m sick of war.

I think it may be time to call the doctor.

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Rain, rain, go away…

…come again another day.

My daughter has been singing this song for the past week. We have had such horrible stormy weather. I think we’ve had double our usual rainfall for the past month in a week. Plus the howling wind. And I’m sick of it! I have a huge Mt Washmore waiting to be tackled, which won’t be easy as our dryer decided to randomly pack a hissy fit and stop working. I want to go outside and get fresh air without getting drenched or feeling like I’m going to blow off the face of the earth.  And everything is just so cold and gloomy when it’s raining.

However. I realise I haven’t said anything since my last post. I know it was kind of a biggie..and I think I just needed some time to chill out and reflect on things. I knew I would come right, and I did. Those periods of self harming never seem to last long but when they do they are all consuming. Thankfully this time I only managed to crack for a couple of days before stopping and going “what am I DOING???!!” It’s always like this. When I’m in the middle of doing it it seems like such a good idea. However once the storm passes I feel like such an idiot for slipping again and going back to a place I don’t want to go. But hey. We are all human right, we aren’t perfect. We just do what we can to survive.

I *think* I’m in a better place again. I’ve just been chilling out, doing what I normally do aka mummy duties, wifely/house duties, work duties and a bit of sewing in the mix. But I’ve been trying to do things at a slower pace and just relax more and not get so pissed off at every little thing. I’ve been watching Grey’s Anatomy from the first series and that’s been nice to relax to. And I’ve changed my daughter’s daycare schedule so she goes for an extra hour in the mornings now so I can get some sewing done (as this was stressing me out big time that I never had enough time to get my orders done). Also she is now in daycare all day thursday as to give the mother in law a break. I really want to get my sewing business off the ground more, so I need to work on my motivation and just keep plugging away at it whenever I find 5 minutes to do anything. I really do like making things and I just wish I could get my customer base up a bit too.

Anyway…nothing much to say here today so I will leave it to that. Just wanted to update 🙂

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Confession Time

*Trigger warning*

I have a confession. Not a lot of people know this. I was am a self harmer. I cut myself. I don’t think I’ve mentioned that on here before, but if I haven’t it may come as a surprise to some of you. Or maybe you thought “I knew it!” Well it’s out in the open now anyway.

I started when I was a teenager, around 14/15 I think. Around the time when I was stressed to the max with school and life. My friends (as girls tend to do) swung from nice to bitchy most of the time. My best friend had ditched me in form 1 and i was left to hang out with myself for the rest of the year until I made new friends. I was the reject. The guy I liked at school didn’t want to go out with me. My “boyfriend” that I really really liked had dumped me the year before and I still hadn’t gotten over him – more about this later. I had started a part time job after school at a supermarket. I started stealing things. Not major things, but the odd chocolate bar, moisturiser etc when I was working. Until they started investigating that someone was stealing…No I didn’t get caught but another staff member did – she was stealing money and cigarettes etc. Police came and she lost her job. Then they installed cameras and I was too freaked out that I would get caught so I stopped. I felt really guilty, and down.

I don’t know what made me think of doing it. One day I was in the bathroom, and we used to have a big cupboard in there that was filled up with heaps of shit – toilet paper, pads & tampons, moisturisers, bath salts, most of which had been gifts to my mum etc that she hadn’t used yet. I always used to be curious about what was in there, so one day I went through some of the stuff. I found a hair dressing kit with scissors and stuff. And a little black pouch. Ohhh I shouldn’t have looked inside that pouch. Inside was a set of razor blades. I think there were 5. And oh how shiny they looked. I remember taking one out and turning it over and over in my hands watching the blade glint in the light. Then I heard my parents come inside so I put it away again.

The blades haunted me. I thought about them every day, for a week or so. I would go to the bathroom just to make sure they were still there. I washed them all under boiling water. Even though they looked clean, I wanted to make them extra clean although i didn’t know why. Then one day, not quite sure how it actually happened or what caused me to finally do it, but I found myself sitting on my bed with the blade in my hand. Without much thought or delay, I pressed the blade into my upper arm.

wow. What a feeling. It was almost indescribable. The relief I felt was amazing. It didn’t even hurt. The feelings of guilt and hurt poured out as the blood did. I sat there for a few minutes watching it before reaching for a tissue. As I cleaned up, I realised what I had just done and i started shaking. How could something so wrong like that, feel SO right?

I wasn’t suicidal. People always assume that if you are a self harmer that you are suicidal. It’s not always like that. For some like me, it’s a pain release. The pressure and feelings build up so much that I just can’t take it anymore and I need a release. Anything to stop how I’m feeling. and the relief I get from it helps so much.

People don’t understand. People that haven’t self harmed. They just can’t know what it is like to get that relief. Now, I’m NOT suggesting for people to start self harming, far from it. I don’t want to do it either. i don’t want to be that person with scars on her arms for others to see and think “she’s crazy”. But sometimes it feels like my only option. It’s my coping mechanism. When things get too much, it’s what I do.

You know what the funny thing was? Well it’s not really funny….but I found out that at the same time as I was cutting, so was my best friend. She came to school one day with a bandage on her arm. I asked her about it and said did she do it herself. She said yes. Hers was a BIG slice on her outer upper arm. Mine were on the inside so no one could see. I think she wanted someone to see so they would stop her. We both went to the guidance councilor. She was a bitch to put it nicely. She actually made me feel worse…I was going to her for reasons to stop the cutting, yet after each session I would go home that night and cut again. So I stopped going. I don’t know if she helped my friend or not, but I didn’t really talk to her much about it after that and I never saw any other cuts or scars on her. She still has a big scar on her arm from the one she did.

So after this, the blade continued to flirt with me for a couple of years on and off, usually at times of major stress etc. Then when I met my now husband in 7th form and he found out about it, he went ballistic at me and told me he never wanted me to do that again. I stopped because i didn’t want to lose him. Then the next year I had finished school and moved out of my parents to Auckland where allll the bad stuff happened. (I think that will be another post too).

This time, I had no blade. I left those at my parents (who have since renovated their bathroom and thrown out all the stuff in the cupboard including that little black pouch). So what was I to do? Anything i could. I used a knife once on my wrist, my bf caught me and stopped me. He actually almost hit me he was that pissed off. I used a letter opener at work a few times. I would sneak it into my sleeve and go to the bathroom. When I didn’t have anything around I would just use my fingernails and scratch my arm.

So by now you’re probably thinking I have scars all over. I don’t. Besides one on my arm that is so faded now that if I want to see it I have to find the right light. Most of the time when I cut, I didn’t leave scars. That wasn’t my intention. It was just a release. I didn’t want people knowing what I was doing.

Since all that crap in Auckland, I was pretty good. I went a few years without doing anything. I thought I would  never do it again. Then we got married and tried to have a baby. That was stressful and the month before I ended up getting pregnant I had a bit of a breakdown and scratched up my arm at work. I literally spent all day going over and over the same spot. This should have been a bit of a precursor to what would come after I had the baby (and really, I probably should have gone – hey I’m not in the right place to have a baby now, let’s stop trying to get pregnant! :/ ) After I had H I was so low for a long time. Bloody post natal depression. PND. The horrible black hole of motherhood no one warns you about. That sleep deprivation, it really is a form of torture. I did it a few times. Then I stopped.

Fast forward to November 2012-May 2013. My affair with J. My marriage breakdown. and alll the shit that stemmed from this. This was probably the only time in my life I have REALLY been suicidal when I did it. I didn’t care anymore. I just wanted out. Out of my broken life. Ohhh I was so close to doing it. I was such a mess. I was standing in the kitchen sobbing, trying to ring J but he wasn’t answering his phone, I was shaking, everything physically hurt, my heart felt like it was trying to beat out of my chest but someone was squeezing it as tightly as they could. I had the knife all sharpened.  I could picture the scene clearly, lying on the floor and bleeding out, big pool of blood spreading over the floor. To be honest, to this day I don’t know what stopped me in the end. I don’t know what stopped me from leaving my husband in the end either. Maybe my brain subconsciously is trying to help me and said NO you can’t do this I won’t let you. I don’t know. All that I know is that I’m alive, and still married to my husband and we are working things out.

Why am I choosing now to reveal all this?

Well here’s the next part of the confession. I scratched my wrist last night. Don’t ask me why because I don’t know what to tell you. But the relief is great. I feel clear headed again. The only problem is, it’s hard to stop at just once. I can almost guarantee that won’t be the last. And No, I’m not suicidal. My husband doesn’t know and I’m not going to tell him. Trust me, it’s better this way.

So there you have it. Hi, I’m H and I’m a self-harmer.

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