Monday, Hannah and Ivor came to visit. It was a lovely time, and Ivor has that ability all babies possess where they laugh and you laugh. He inquisitively inspected everything in, and out, of his reach while Han and I caught up. I value these moments with them so much.
Tuesday I felt a little better – a shocking turn of events but that’s just how it goes sometimes.
Wednesday was slightly worse but I succeeded in finally washing my hair and spending time with Darcy. As usual we laughed, cried and drank coffee. It was so nice to finally get out of the house and instead lounge across her sofa while playing with her puppy Bear.
Thursday was a little worse again but not quite where I have been the past few weeks. So I riled myself up to go to my goddaughters swimming lesson. She swims and Laura and I get to catch up. Her partner Dan was there too and it was once again really nice to be out and talking about something other than how shite I’ve been feeling. We mostly spoke about Amy and how she’s been while I ate my body weight in crisps.
Today, Friday, I am fucking awful. I mean it probably had something to do with seeing people and spending spoons I didn’t have but I can only respond to what my body and pain tell me. Given that Tuesday I felt better despite spending time with Han and Ivor is a win and but I rested Tuesday still. Wednesday wasn’t much worse and so it was another win and I chose to spend more time with a loved one. Thursday, while I did admittedly feel worse, I was only out the house for an hour. Like I say, I really can only respond to my body, and my body wasn’t shouting so loudly for me to stop. So I chose love and mental wellbeing as my priorities over rest and mentally I felt a lot better for these choices. Until today.
If I’m being honest I didn’t expect today to be like it is. I predicted higher pain, and that’s exactly what I’ve got – a vibrant and sharp 10/10. But mentally I am so so low and that’s the part I didn’t expect. It’s been a while since seeing loved ones had this effect. It used to be normal that I’d be tearful and emotional after leaving friends and family – it never feels like enough and sometimes seeing others reaching their full potential hurts. It’s envy and I know that. I accept it for what it is because I also know that I want my people to win. I LOVE seeing them win and thrive and live to their fullest. Their wins really do feel like mine too because that’s the depth of my love for them. But it doesn’t mean it can’t also hurt a little at the same time.
Today it’s hurting a lot. My time with them doesn’t feel like it’s enough. I stayed on Darcy’s sofa for 4 hours and I truly only left because I wasn’t going to be able to drive home if I stayed much longer. But I didn’t want to go even though 4 hours out is always going to be more spoons than I have spare. I didn’t want swimming to be over as soon as it was yesterday and I definitely didn’t want Ivor to be ready for his nap so soon on Monday. I didn’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be alone.
That’s how it feels, the isolation and the pain just intensifies the feelings of loneliness. My mums working from home today but I feel ever so alone. I’m also not capable of any interaction, I don’t want company. I don’t want to be seen this way, in all this pain with a soggy pillowcase from a day of silent tears for my loneliness, loss and pain. But I also don’t want to be alone. A life of contradictions I know and I’ll never have the words to explain the feeling but I know others can understand.
My mind is scary today and I’m just hanging on to the thought that I managed to bring my therapy session forward to Tuesday. I just need to make it 4 more days. Then I’m safe. Then I can truly voice these scary thoughts, the ones I won’t write here. The thoughts that cannot be said or admitted to myself while alone.
And so I tap. Above the eyes, between the eyes, side of the eye, upper lip, chin, collarbone, ribs and top of the head. I tap and remind myself “I am ok, I am safe, and I’m trying to love and accept myself just the way I am.” Until Tuesday I can just hope that tomorrow will be a little less heavy.