…. Well sort of.
In my last post I wrote about how I like the umph that a New Year brings but that’s as positive as I can really get about January. Despite it feeling quicker than most years; I’m still glad for it to be February tomorrow.
I probably (definitely) wasn’t entirely honest about the state of my mental health. I’m a big believer in getting up and trying again; “smile though your heart is aching” but as with everything there comes a point to change tack or face head on what you’ve been running away from.
We enjoyed ourselves over Christmas but there was a niggle: I was angry and inevitably the self-harm tendencies creep in. I got support for actual self-harm in my late teens so it’s something that I worry about in the sense that I don’t want to fall off the 16 year wagon. Nowadays it’s the biting of nails; drinking too much, eating the wrong things, extreme procrastination and not realising that toxic things should be stopped quicker. Hence most of my resolutions of sorts.
Why the anger? The election, the state of the world, the destruction that is Brexit, ALEXANDRA DIED. Ya know, the usual. I’m angry every time I see a new couple at SANDs meetings. I’m angry that babies are still dying and I’m scared by the level of anger I still have. I’m angry everytime I hear that a pregnancy has been left to go on for longer than it should ending in tragedy – we were told that lessons had been learnt.
The real kicker for the anger is that I naïvely assumed that Ophelia would have a younger sibling by now and that hasn’t happened. Considering that for both girls I was pregnant very quickly, this is a huge shock. I’ve been keeping a diary but it hasn’t happened thus far is all I’m really ready to put into the public sphere at the moment. I’m angry because if we had both girls home then I’d be done and be blissfully unaware of this heart-breaking and, at times, lonely world.
As an only child, I think I’m more prepared for her to essentially be an “only” child too. It’s not as bad you might think: it makes you independent, trained at making friends and being comfortable in my own company. But I can do all three to a fault! (blinkered; too intense with new friends; loner)
Over the last couple of months I’ve been on a prescription for vitamin D. I was promised the feeling of literally being a human sunshine and bouncing around with energy. But nope, permanent exhausted pigeon status remained. I didn’t feel a difference at all.
As a result of this and the over indulgence over Christmas I decided to do dry January. To be honest I’ve sailed through but what surprised me is that, again, I don’t feel any difference. I’ve not noticed an improvement in my mental health or tiredness levels at all.
I do have lots to look forward to and yes, obviously more than grateful for Ophelia but I need to stop running and have a word with myself, pull up my big girl panties and face me. So to that end I’m going to ask the GP to check my thyroid function (I seem to meet all the symptoms for underactive but it’s unlikely), ask to be put on a waiting list for counselling and I’ve also contacted a local bereavement charity for this too. I’ve also going to plucked up the courage and asked if there’s a separate fundraising page/group for the Leeds NICUs because I’m finding it upsetting and triggering to see pictures babies receiving similar treatment to Alexandra next to their 1st birthday photos.
4 years and 4 months later I’m still heartbroken and angry. So, I’m going to do something about it, to channel this anger into something healthy, constructive and something that I can be proud of.
PS. I’ll be having a glass (10 syns) of prosecco on Saturday night whilst wearing the biggest Bridget Jones PJs I own