Almost a week of this stupid bug, kids with anxiety so high that even just trying to get to breakfast is an exhausting battle, and having to get through the trauma of the nights (nightmares really high again for one child, crying/defending self in sleep, the other just flat out refusing sleep or help).
I don’t want to be a mum today. I just want to hide. My body is in agony. No one sees this side, everyone just sees my “charming, well behaved, polite and compliant” children. I apparently make up their struggle, or exaggerate it to my own end. “How could they possible be as bad as [I] say they are”. Trauma that’s how, they hold it together in front of everyone else to protect themselves. But at home, in the place they feel safest (not safe, just safest, they still don’t have any reason to trust me to be the mum they need me to be).
I am burnt out. Caitlin had the same cold as me. For her it lasted 12 hours. For me, a week later it’s still going strong because my body is too exhausted to fight it. So yeah, once again I am sat here, out of energy, depleted of the patience and tolerance I need to get through the day and it’s not even 9am yet wondering how the hell any of us are still going to be breathing at the end of the day.
I hope I can turn it into a positive day, despite knowing right now I don’t have much hope. But I thought it’d be worth sharing this in the moment because these are the times no one sees.
A Pleasant Chaos 