Tender Face

Gone 4am and sleepless (what’s new?) – been almost euphoric at times this week .... encouraged and motivated – support of special friends, real and virtual (you find out who they are when you mention ‘therapy’ and don’t run away screaming you’re a ‘psycho’!):rolleyes: .... have just dug out the details to leave a message at the ‘clinic’ that I won’t be attending tomorrow (today). Then filed it away again .... think it might be prudent to ring a taxi to get me there and sod the budget coz driving anywhere with so little sleep (if I get any at all) and mind so disturbed can’t be right. Then wonder I really am going mad ... and those feelings of being a masochist are coming at me loud and clear. Brave, gritty, determined? ... all those supportive messages coming my way .....? More like the cowardly lion at the moment ..... lost my roar ... and why would anyone in their right mind put themselves through this? – oh, forgot .. it’s getting my mind straight that’s the target!

One kind friend suggested to just ‘get back on my horse’ as I was before mum was ill ..... and I am tempted, sorely tempted to just throw up all the barriers again ..... roll sleeves up, find my ‘fight’ wherever I last parked it :rolleyes:.... but won’t all this stuff just come back and ‘bite me on the bum’ again one day?

I wanted this blog to be encouragement to others ..... but right now, I have to admit I feel very scared .....
Do I ring and leave a message at clinic? Or book that taxi? This is not the ‘cosy counselling’ I have had before ... soft lighting, comfy chairs and boxes of tissues ...... I am really not sure how strong I am?

Rhetorical questions of course ..... I hope one day I can look back at this blog and think ‘I did it!’ If I wimp out .... I could be on this hamster wheel forever ....? :(

Found strength and a voice when I had to ‘fight’ for mum ... why can’t I do it for me? And there is one thing worth sharing here (not just for my own benefit of getting stuff off my chest) ... the years of caring .... that brings out so much for others ... but buries the carer and their needs and feelings ... ironically that was a 'safe place' to ignore my own needs ...

Right, talked myself into going ....

I’d make a good Shirley Valentine talking to this damned wall! At least the therapist talks back to me! When the wall starts talking back I’ll know I’ve really lost it!:eek: