I can’t even seem to get off the ground any more with healthy changes. There was a time when I could stick to something for weeks or even months. Now I fail after less than a day or two.
Maybe I have tried and failed so many times that I have used up all my staying power and I am destined to eat crap and feel awful for the rest of my days.
I have consumed a ton of sugary stuff today and feel not only yukky for doing so, but I have all the guilt and self-judgement for not being able to control myself. Again.
It really is ridiculous, how I can want to do one thing, but then do the complete opposite just for a few moments of pleasure. I’ve said it before but I do wonder if my sweet addicion is so desperate and dire because there is so little sweetness in my life. This, of course, is a conditioned, subjective view that I am ashamed of. I have plenty of wonderful things in my life and I know I am very lucky. I feel horribly guilty about feeling that life isn’t full of sweetness.
But daily life IS tough. We have no family or close friends nearby, and I have been parenting 24/7 for seven years with barely a break and only one night off (during which I was celebrating my 40th birthday, but simultaneously miscarrying, so not quite as carefree as we would have liked. Not to mention the anxiety I carried of leaving the children alone when it is something we had never done – and haven’t since). On top of being on call to three small people round the clock, every day of the year, I have had to pull myself though a birth that almost killed me (I lost 2.8 litres of blood with my first), a miscarriage that almost killed me (I haemorrhaged for hours after the sac got lodged in the neck of my womb, and I ended up with a three day hospital stay and blood transfusion), the death of two grandparents, and several long-term psychotic episodes from an immediate family member.
Through all of this I have had to manage on broken sleep, whilst dealing with tantrums, fights, bickering, illness, and what the fuck to cook everybody every single day NO MATTER WHAT. It’s no surprise I am a shell of my former self – and I wasn’t exactly a sturdy specimen to start.
People must notice how haggard and worn down I am. The greying hair that I rarely bother to brush (or even wash). The creases on my face from falling asleep crushed into the pillow that take hours to fade. The sagging jawline, the growing pot belly, the limp from my arthritis, the frightening rate of wrinkles, the tired, dull, emptiness in my eyes.
But no one ever says anything. Maybe they are too polite? My parents must be able to see me aging so rapidly, they must notice I always wear the same sloppy grey and blue outfits, they must notice the tired, grey pallor. They have never said anything. Neither have my friends. But then, would I say something if it was me?
Hey friend, I’ve noticed how tired you are. How you drag your body around as if it’s a burden. You’re looking older these days and your personal hygeine has gotten quite slack. Is everything okay?
Nope. I definitley wouldn’t say anything.
My son said to me today,
Mummy, do you go out and have lots of fun when baby F is at nursery and we are at school?
I laughed so much.
No, sweetie, I don’t. Do you know what I do? I sit at my desk and I work very, very hard until I pick you all up. Sometimes I even forget to have lunch! But I like the sound of your suggestion. Do you think I should just go and have lots of fun instead?
And I thought about how much less tired and stressed and miserable I might be if I could steal the time to do that and remember any of the things that I did for fun.
You should text Mrs X (current client), and tell her you’re closed. You should do that on Monday.
Maybe no one else has noticed my decline, but my children have. And they want me to fix it.