Oh wow, I just realised how long it is since I posted. I can’t tell you how many posts I’ve written in my head in the last few weeks. I just seem to run out of time when it comes to the actual writing and posting part, although I wish I wouldn’t, because then it wouldn’t seem like such a huge catch up!
To say that life is busy is an understatement. I’m completely worn out. I reached breaking point about a week ago, so I took a couple of days off work. It wasn’t a cure-all, but it did help. At least I had one less thing to think about and do. I go back to work tomorrow and while part of me is looking forward to it, most of me isn’t. I really like my job, and l really enjoy the work, but it adds a whole other level of stress that I just don’t need, and feel I can’t cope with right now.
I read online that this is apparently the life of a “carer”. The time I used to spend blogging, reading, watching TV or even just staring into space is now all consumed with what I call “Mum stuff” – driving to and from the hospital, making calls to health providers, running errands, keeping up with her mail and her bills, answering calls from her friends, managing her pets, blah blah blah. Most days there’s just too much to think about, and certainly too much to do. It’s almost no wonder I reached breaking point, really. I’m not sure how to balance it all, though the carer sites I’ve read tell me this is KEY to holding it all together. (Yea, no sh** Sherlock, but HOW???)
I’m pleased to say I’ve been going to the gym semi-regularly. It feels good! Of course, my excess weight hasn’t miraculously dropped off, nor my fitness miraculously returned, but it’s a start, and I’ve noticed changes already. My fitness has improved (I’ve gone from near cardiac arrest after 5 minutes on the bike, to near cardiac arrest after 15 or 20 minutes on the bike 😉 ) and I’ve noticed a dramatic improvement in the body tension that no longer cripples me every day. Thanks again to my BFF for reminding me of this! It’s almost enough incentive to make me keep going 😉
My house is driving me mental. It’s a complete tip. My ironing pile, usually well controlled because I quite enjoy ironing, is about to spill over into next door’s yard. Excess mail is piled up, and my car is a sea of newspapers, delivered over successive weekends, but never quite read. I live in quite a small house that is severely short of storage. Everywhere I look there is junk – some of it mine, much of it Mum’s. I made a start on it yesterday, cleared out space in some cupboards in “Mum’s room” (formerly my spare room aka my study). Nothing feels like it’s mine anymore. Sigh.
And then came the bombshell. While visiting Mum one day, she asked if she could live with me. Permanently. Gulp. While I was mentally running around screaming, I said: “Not if you’re going to live for another 20 years you’re not,” and laughed. She seemed to take that well, but said: “I’m not.”
I left the hospital in a complete panic. Needless to say this has been a frequent topic of discussion with my therapist in the sessions since then. But more on that in my next post. It’s late. There’s work tomorrow, and ironing – I need something to wear!