Tossing and turning.

My period started. It was late and it was heavy. And suddenly my whole world was turned upside down. I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned then tossed some more. My mind a whirl of to do lists and what ifs and panic and constant noise and I couldn’t turn it off no matter how hard I tried. I stopped going to bed. If I didn’t go to bed then I didn’t toss and turn and think and worry and panic. So my husband kissed me goodnight and I stayed upstairs and instead of tossing and turning and thinking. I watched telly, but not really concentrating. Just thinking, and worrying, and panicking.

When I’m doing something that I truly believe is good, I’m flying! I’m happy and singing and loving and being. But I can’t always be doing. Yes, I’m happy but I’m also exhausted. Because I don’t seem to be able to do things by halves. It’s all or nothing. Go big or go home.

I decided to have a break. And it was the break that broke me.

Whenever I have my down days, I normally think about running away. I look at holidays online and wonder how much my husband would hate me if I just went to Spain for a few weeks. To live another life, just for a moment.

But this time, I started thinking about what would happen if I just went away all together. Maybe everyone elses lives would just be easier if I weren’t here at all? The kids wouldn’t remember me that’s for sure. I try to do all this good for others but maybe it’s just not worth it anymore?

I didn’t do anything. But I thought about it. And to me, that is scary enough.

I’ll be honest. The main reason wasn’t because of others, but my selfish self. I was scared of the pain. Not of the loss. Of the mistakes. The perfectionist in me screamed – What if it didn’t work? What if I became paralyzed or just sick, what if it just made my life even worse than it is already?

I shook myself out of it. I don’t really remember how. I went downstairs and checked on the children, I stroked their hair and kissed their soft little cheeks then went to bed and cuddled my husband. He asked me if I was okay.

“I’m fine” – I replied.

Morning came and I couldn’t get up. My husband agreed to take our daughter to nursery an hour earlier so I didn’t have to take her and I slept. My son didn’t stir, or if he did, I didn’t hear. And I dreamed.

It felt like hours had passed, I dreamed that I had slept all day and missed picking up my daughter. I could hear people coming into my house but no one was there. Thumping on the stairs and in the room above but whenever I tried to lift myself out of bed to check, I was stuck. A giant weight on top of me. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I managed to get to my phone and text my friend. She called and the weight started to lift. I called the Doctors office and they agreed to call back once my Doctor became available.

She picked up my daughter and brought her to me, she got my son out of bed and dressed and fed him. I finally felt ready to get out of bed too. We talked and we cried. When I saw my friend cry, crying because she was worried about me, I knew I truly needed help. She took over. I sat in an almost trance as she called the Health Visitors, my psychologist and the Doctors office again. She called a friend to look after my children whilst she took me to the Doctors surgery.

She sat with me whilst I told my Doctor the truth, she rubbed my arm and told me I was being so brave. We often joke about the fact I couldn’t live without her, but honestly, I don’t know what I would do without her.

The Doctor gave me some more meds, something to help me sleep and did some referrals. The Crisis Team for me and the ‘Safeguarding Hub’ to make sure they are doing everything they can to support me looking after my children. I agreed to these referrals. I will do anything to ensure the safety of my children, especially from myself.

I do sometimes take my emotions out on my children. I am easily frustrated, I am not patient. I shout easily but I try to stay stern. I always make sure I leave the room when it all gets too much. I try not to let them see me cry too often.

I’m lost. I have been deemed ‘in crisis’. I have lots of professionals working with me, however this ‘status’ unfortunately means that the Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) we have been progressing so well with will have to be paused until I have been cleared.

I’ve crashed. The crash that I knew was coming. But this time I’ve crashed harder than I ever have before.

I expect it’ll take longer than before to climb again, and I’ll certainly need a lot more help…

I hope to one day find the balance between my soaring highs and these dreadful lows.

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