Posted in mental health

The madness is descending…

There is a reason why I decided to write this blog anonymously.

I wanted to be able to write what I wanted without fear of judgement or reprisals, I wanted to have a space that was mine to be as I needed to be.

Never has that been more necessary than now.

You see, Mrs X, I, am a sufferer. I try my darnedest not to be, but life throws shit your way and it sticks, and you just have to deal with it the best you can.

I suffer from depression, anxiety, crippling social anxiety and PCOS.

All of them are connected, all of them make the other worse. No one really gets it. No one really gives a shit, so it is down to me to deal with it the best I can.

It is really, really, really hard. Every single day is a struggle and it is absolutely exhausting. I could sleep, all the time. It is an all consuming sleep, so deep and yet never refreshing. The anxiety that I suffer from causes a physical pain, it is a dull ache in the top of my stomach that gets stronger as I get more anxious. Sometimes my social anxiety causes complete paralysis. I physically cannot move, and the worst thing is that I don’t know what is causing me to be stuck. It is not a case of not wanting to miss anything, or being afraid people may talk about me when I am gone from the room, it is just what it is. And it is pretty scary. People probably assume that I am lazy. Others have to make drinks or snacks or grab something for me from another room. I am not lazy at all. I am incredibly motivated. In fact I believe that I am a “high functioning depressive”, either that or my OCD won’t let me stop. But that is the way that it looks to outsiders, which, guess what? Causes even more anxiety to occur. 

So, for the most part, I can continue living my life in my own secret depressive/anxious prison without it causing too much fuss. And then something super shit happens and I feel the bastards creeping up on me with a vengeance.

This week my Grandmother passed away. She was 91 and had lived an awesome life. But it hit me like a tonne of bricks. My Mum passed over 10 years ago. I blocked it as any good psycho does, until it crippled me and I had to face the fact that I was going insane. Seeing my Grandmother, a strong independent woman, lying in bed resembling a concentration camp victim struggling for every breath brought all those feelings back. 

But that’s not the worst part. On my last visit to the home, when I saw my Grandmother lying like that, with overly depressing music playing on the radio station outside, an awful thought crossed my mind. Through the tears that no one saw me shed because she was not conscious and I was there alone.

I wondered what it must feel like to be so close to being free.

Free from worries and pain and people and life.

And that is how I know that the madness is descending once again. 

I don’t want to not be here, I want to live. But I want to live a life that is free. Everyone has stress, and worries and debts and pain, but right now mine seems to be amplified to the point of virtual insanity. I am living my days in a fog, there are no emotions, just motions. I am functioning.

I am “High Functioning”.

It fucking sucks.

Mrs X xoxo

Posted in Marriage, parenting, Social

The weekend according to Mrs X

Once a week a magical thing happens. 

It becomes Friday, and you know what that means? It means it’s the friggin’ weekend people!!!

And if you, like me, would totally love to rock your weekends, then have a read through the details of my last weekend. Use it as a guide, if you like, on how to be a completely epic housewife and parent on those two sought after days.

Let’s start with Friday night. 

Firstly, you must agree to watch a movie with your daughter in your own bed. This is of course not fatal at all, and will not make you want to fall straight to sleep. Make sure you stay conscious enough to respond to her comments, so as not to cause any upset. Make sure you don’t eat all the marshmallows, again, this may cause upset…

Ok, daughter in bed. Time to watch a TV show with the boy child, whatever you do, do not turn off the front room lights to allow better viewing. You will, without a doubt, fall into a Friday night coma, from which you may not be revived until Monday.

Boy in bed, suddenly remember he has football training in the morning. He must leave the house by 9am. Make a mental note to go to bed early and set an alarm.

Then, of course, decide that 10.45pm is the absolute best time to give your business website a revamp.

Crawl in to bed at 2am, baby will definitely wake in about 30 minutes. Don’t forget you must get up in the morning.

8.56am Saturday morning – Shit!! I am a seriously crappy and horrible parent.

Boy goes to football, housework gets done. Enter lethargy mode. Forget breakfast.

Remember at about 1 that you need to feed the family, and that you haven’t eaten yet so you need to eat shitloads. 

Eat too much. Decide to do the weekly shop tomorrow instead.

Saturday night. Get a text from my sister saying she is going to visit our grandmother in the morning. Would I like to go with her? Yeah, ok. She will be there at 9am. 

Ok, don’t forget to set an alarm.

9.05am Sunday morning, there’s a knock at the door – SHIT!!

I’m up, I look like a river corpse but I’m up. Sister makes tea, I get ready.  It is at this moment that a I remember that I have only one pair of jeans, and they need washing. However living life without jeans is not something I feel I can face today, and so I retrieve them (without being spotted) from the wash basket. Put on a big jumper because it looks cold outside, and as this will be the first time I will have left the house all week I can only go by visual aids.

Get to the nursing home and discover they have the heating on full blast.

Get a banging headache and decide that your illusive and procrastinating period is absolutely on its way as you feel like a half dead garden bouncer – check!

Spend the afternoon at the supermarket (fucking hell on earth, why do I subject myself to it every weekend??), then playing with the kids in a semi zombie state. 

Sunday night, have a bath and decide that you will most definitely have an earlier night tonight. Sit down and watch Dexter, and then another one. Oh go on then, just another one.

Oh look, it’s Monday again! Whoop-de-fucking-do…

Lather, rinse and repeat next week…

I am rocking this life shit!!

Mrs X xoxo

Posted in parenting, Social

When is it my turn?

I have this huge pet hate.

I absolutely hate it when people moan about something and do jack shit about it. 

“Oh, I hate my job!” 

“Did you sign a lifetime contract? Did you allow your soul to be swallowed up by your workplace never to return? No? Then quit!” Life is far far too short for you to be spending any time doing something that you hate, that doesn’t make you happy or fulfilled. Yes of course, money is a huge issue, and a huge factor in decision making. But surely happiness should trump it? (Can I still use the term “Trump it” without this becoming a political post??).

Anyhow, I digress. This is my pet hate. Moaners who do nothing to fix there own lives.

But that brings me on to my, very personal, point. I have spent years trying to make the absolute best of my life, our lives. 

For the last 15 years, my entire adult life, I have worked my arse off. In numerous jobs, with differing roles, no matter what the position I have tried my best. I can be proud of myself for that.

But why the hell does it have to be so, so hard? 15 years into adult life, and I am still struggling to hold my head above the water. 

We have made choices, and sacrifices, and tried our absolute best but every single day seems to be the same grinding struggle. It’s like my own personal Groundhog Day, where everything ticks along just fine, but nothing ever changes.

Please, please don’t get me wrong. I am so happy with my lot. I have my health, my husband, my babies and a roof over our heads. I know that is a lot more than some can say. I know deep down that we have achieved a lot in our life together and overcome even more. 

But I am just starting to wonder when it will be our turn? When that moment will arrive that all of our hard work and efforts and struggles will pay off, when we will start to see some return for all of our output.

God, don’t I sound like the biggest, most ungrateful shit in all the world??

But that’s the thing, this is why I started this blog, because I can say that here and not feel judged or vilified for feeling that, at the ripe old age of 33, it’s time that there was more. I don’t want to be a millionaire, I won’t even ask to be “comfortable”, I would simply be happy with being able to pay my bills, buy our food and still have enough to take the kids to the cinema or swimming. To be able to live a life, not just get through each week.

I am tired. Of the struggle and the constant battles. I want something to click, to take hold and take off. I keep hearing the saying “You get out of life what you put in”. Well, if that’s the case then I think it is well overdue for some good fortune to come our way!

We will keep working, and plod along, because you never know when that one thing, that one decision or choice, will be the right one.

And in the meantime I will keep on smiling, because I am lucky. I am rich in all but money. And that fucking sucks!

Mrs X xoxo