Small things that can do lots of damage

Yes I’m talking about words. What you speak can do so much damage. And the damage can last much longer than you ever realise. Knowing I’ve upset or hurt someone with my words intentionally or not plagues my mind for days. Similarly being hurt by the words of friends can take weeks or even months to go away. Or even if you think the hurt has gone, it doesn’t take much to resurrect it.

I know that there are times currently where I can be more sensitive to what people say, but I also know my closest friends are aware of this. But that hasn’t stopped people saying things without thinking. Little comments about how my children are dressed, or a mark on their faces or that I’ve not wiped their nose instantly could all upset me. It left me, and still can leave me, feeling judged.

But I’ve also witnessed how social media especially means words can be really damaging. I’ll never forget how it felt when I was single but desperately wanted not to be, and I had friend after friend posting they were “in a relationship with” or “engaged to”. And while I was happy for them, it could be hard to read.

Pregnancy announcements could be the same. Knowing how others could be hurting because of their own situations that you or I are not aware of made me be very cautious. And again while I will celebrate with friends in their joy, it doesn’t take away the pain. This pain, hurt, jealousy, etc isn’t new, but before social media it was easier to manage. You can only control to a point what you can see when you log in.

I do share on social media, but I choose who I share things with. Not everyone can see everything I post and that’s my choice. I choose who sees lots of images of my children. I choose who can see my blog post notifications. I choose what I post generally. And I carry the responsibility for those choices.

Commitment…as a wife, parent, friend, colleague

I’ve been thinking about commitment a lot over the last couple of weeks, as my eldest child turned 18. I made a commitment to him from the moment he was born that he would always come first. And I really hope that I’ve always kept that promise. That promise didn’t mean he always got what he wanted, or that he liked everything I said or did, but I meant that he was always a the forefront of my choices and plans.

And now that he’s turned 18, that commitment doesn’t end. And because he has 2 siblings that commitment doesn’t change. I have to change to adapt to putting my children and their individual needs first, and work out the compromises that need to be made. Within that, I also have my commitment to my husband. He is my best friend and my partner for life. He will be along side me long after all our children have flown the nest. My commitment to him is to keep investing in us through the tough times as well as the great times.

Anyone who truly knows me, will know that I give my 100% commitment to everything that I do. Be it friendship, work, hobbies, faith, life. That is a core part of who I am. As a result I don’t have a huge circle of friends, but those I have I give everything to. A lunch or coffee date will take priority as I give them my time. I know how much someone giving their time to me like that matters to me, so I value it when I give it to others too. Yes this can set me up for hurt, but it is a core part of me.

My commitment to my younger children means commitment to the menial tasks like making meals, sterilising bottles, providing them with a safe home environment, feeding them, clothing them. But it also means a commitment to being there forever. You can’t turn off being a parent just because they reach a certain milestone, but you can change how you relate and behave.

So take your commitments seriously. Especially to other people. You are probably unaware of how much others value it.

What is ok and what is not?

100 Quotes on Life that'll Bring Alive a New You & Change You Forever!!

One of the things I have found in the last few weeks and months is that my perceptions of what is ok and what isn’t are changing. Some of this is through psychotherapy, some of this is through experiences, some of this is through talking with friends.

I have seen things posted on line and shared in several places that are unhelpful and unhealthy. Images and quotes that have made me doubt myself, my opinions and my decisions. Things that have made me question those around me. There are 2 things I really need from those around me at the moment….consistency and loyalty.

When I say this, I don’t mean in a pompus, clique-y or sorority type way. But I mean in a way where I know who I can and can’t rely on. What is going to be stable in both mine and my families lives. What is going to be helping lay the foundations for who I am becoming.

12253391144_ba9a2935f6_z

I’ve also seen things about who to rely on. And that online support is unhealthy, is unreal and is living in a fantasy world. For me, in reality, some of my friends that I know mainly in an online or digital capacity are some of my greatest support. Some of them I have met once, some of them I have met several times, and some of them I have never met, but they are their to support me, to encourage me and to help me achieve the best in who I am. They counsel me and help me process, in the same way that friends I see face to face do. In fact, some of those who are digital friends are the people I see frequently face to face. But that doesn’t mean that those who I have never met are worth any less.

With my depression and anxiety, friendships are hard to maintain. I know that they take a huge level of understanding from my friends and my support network. People need to know that I need to know who I can trust and when and where I can rely on them. If people let me down, then I will walk away as the energy that relationship takes from me needs to be invested in my family and other relationships.

What’s worse though, is that I know I am not the only person experiencing this. For many of my friends with a baby under 1, friends have become a rarity. People aren’t being bothered to take the time to invest in them now their priorities have changed.

New mums need the support the most. Whether it be a new mum for the first or the fifth time. Every new small person into a household mix takes their mum away from the “normality” that existed pre baby. But that doesn’t stop the mum from caring. It is then that she needs it more, but has it the least. So be a friend. Don’t stop caring cos one day you’ll try to care and it will be too late.

Depression Quotes and Sayings About Depression _ HealthyPlace

 

End of another phase

This week marks another key point in my parenting journey. My maternity leave is coming to an end. I’m really not sure how i feel about it. Mixed emotions i think.

I adore my job. I’ve said this many times,and I’ll keep saying it. I love my job, the charity I work for, the work we do. It’s also what makes a huge difference to my mental health. But on the flip side,this means my daughter is growing older. She’s going to be going to a child minder. She’s now closer to a year than to birth. She’s been growing in the big wide world for almost as long as she was growing inside me.

I have loved my 9 months of being mummy and mum. I’ve loved watching my children grow. Watching my teenager flourish in his first year at college. Watching my toddler gain more independence. Watching my baby grow and learn.

Knowing i will not do this parenting journey again has made me even more aware of every milestone. Each new thing. Each change in appearance. Each ounce of weight gained. Every smile, every tear. I hate the thought of missing anything,but also know i need to step out of this safe bubble.

But this realisation has also been a bit overwhelming. It hit me hard, especially as it coincides with returning from a fabulous holiday this week, and a big change in weather. I’m trying to make sure I stop and refocus,but in reality at times that’s hard. So for now I’m focusing on things I can manage and control. Deep breaths and move a step forward.

Getting ready for the next stage

bf220d9dc23bb5c7701fd7942630e088

One of the things I am really struggling with at the moment is every time someone tells me that my little girl is growing up. I know that she will be my last baby, and so in someways I want to make all of this time last as long as possible.

In 2 days time she will be 7 months old. That is more than half of her first year gone, and I feel at times like I have missed so much of the first few months. I am constantly trying to capture in my mind and my heart each moment, as I know I can never have them again. While I am celebrating her moving on in her development, part of me keeps feeling ‘Not yet’! Part of me isn’t ready yet for her to start being mobile, becoming more independent, needing me less.

And I know that some of this is a long long way off.

My toddler still needs me daily. My teenager needs me – but not as much as it feels like I need him. And my daughter needs me. I know she does. But I also know that she doesn’t always miss me like I miss her. I know that none of my children do.

My husband and I joke about my behaviour when I am apart from my teenage son for any period of time. I feel like I have lost an arm or a leg. I find it really hard. I struggle with letting go, as I can still remember holding him in my arms nearly 18 years ago, and  realising that this small person was suddenly totally dependent on me.

I struggle with how willingly my toddler runs off to his childminder – and only because she is so amazing at what she does, and he absolutely adores going. But I struggle because it is a time in his week when I am not needed.

At the moment I am struggling with the idea of returning to work. I love my job. I have really enjoyed my Keeping In Touch days. I adored the day I had back in the office a couple of weeks ago. I love my colleagues. I love what we do. But I am struggling with the idea of not being there for my daughter all day every day. It’s irrational, I know. I know she will be having an amazing time with our wonderful friend and childminder. I know I can touch base whenever I need to. But I am struggling.

What I have realised is that I am human, I am normal. I am not superwoman. I am allowed to feel like this. Loving my children is the hardest but the easiest thing to do, and each stage require me to let go a little bit more.

hodding-carter-quote-parenting

6 months in and I’m starting to feel a bit more normal!

Newcastle Family Life_ What it was like suffering from PND

This week saw the 6 month mark since I gave birth. In the last month we’ve started to have some big changes…..she’s moved out of our bedroom,she’s starting trying food, she’s sitting up unaided. But for me the biggest change has been one that I’ve felt in me. In the last couple of weeks it’s started to feel like the horrid fog that is brought down by the postnatal depression is lifting a bit.

I’ve actually started to feel real joy in things again, rather than the forced feelings that weren’t genuine but were what I knew I should be feeling. I’m actually finding that spending time with my children is becoming an enjoyment again and not a chore. That might sound awful, but that is the reality for so many parents. Enjoying time with my toddler, my teenager, my baby, is something that had become a distant memory, and is  now something that I am starting to enjoy again.

This doesn’t mean that everything has suddenly got easier. It really hasn’t. Going out can still be my biggest cause of anxiety, and the easiest thing to find an excuse for. Finding the energy to do much else is still a struggle. Feeling like all I can do is sleep some days is still very common. But it’s small steps.

Over the weekend I have deliberately used my energy to do some small “jobs” that needed completing at home. I have realised over the last couple of months, that there are certain areas in the house that it helps me if they are ordered and tidy. I hate not having the energy to keep on top of it all. Unfortunately, this can trigger my OCD and my anxieties. Knowing things aren’t away in their place, where I have created a process and a plan causes me more stress. However, rather than tackling this when it is small, I can let it become a bigger problem. For me, recently, my bedroom has been this area. The pile of clothes and bits at the end of the bed has got bigger and bigger, and the stress in my head about it has got bigger and bigger. So I have tackled it, but know that now I can relax more. But I also know I will now want to make sure everything is in the right drawer etc, and will struggle when things are out of place.

Frustratingly it really is a catch 22. And I know it’s something that people don’t understand. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is that….it’s a disorder. There is no explaining why I need things to be in a certain place in a drawer, and why I find it so stressful when they aren’t. It isn’t logical. Boy do I wish it was! I hate it. I hate that I can’t escape it or explain it.

The other thing I am realising, and having to come to terms with, is that this is going to be a new “normal”. Normal won’t be going back to how I used to be, but it is about mean learning to live with who I am now, and that this version of me is likely to be around for a long time. Until I have accepted this version as the here and now, and stop trying to mask it, I can’t expect others to accept it. They will keep thinking the performance is the reality.

So I will keep going with this new normal.

The easiest way to follow your favorite blogs

 

The fear of the scales

This contraption has been the cause of some of my biggest problems since giving birth. It has caused me panic attacks, it has caused tears, it makes a fear bubble up inside me every time I have to get her weighed.

I know that the fear stems from the first few weeks of her life, when every time she hadn’t gained weight they would be sending us back to hospital. But it has left a deep rooted fear that I will be judged and comments will be made if at any point she drops off her weight curve. Things like get bringing up more milk than normal after feeds because she’s full of mucous from a cold or she’s been gumming lots and creating acidic saliva make me worry. I dread the times when we have to put her on the scales.

As I’ve said before, my health visitor is amazingly supportive, and she’ll come to the house to do the weighing, rather than getting me to go to tbe clinic, where I’ve had meltdowns because I’m panicking. But I still have to get her and her brother weighed every time we see the dietician.

There is no easy fix at the moment, and like all my other anxieties it’s made worse by tbe post natal depression, but it doesn’t take the fear away. Like everything else, it’s another fear I have to overcome, and each of them is a baby step.