Just Doing The Best We Can

The other day, someone commented on an article I did on loosing Patrick and life after for "A Lust For Life". They said they felt  what business did they have feeling depressed when they had friends like us who went through something so horrible. And that made me think.

You know what? This persons situation is as real to them as mine is to me. Their feelings matter just as much as mine. Different circumstances, yes,  but exactly that: Different. Not "worse" (me/us) and "not so bad by comparison" (them). I don't think it is possible to truly compare "lots" when talking about depression/post traumatic stress and/or mental health.

Indeed, if you were to look at it that way, then what business do I have feeling low and sad after all we went through to get this little rainbow? Should I not count my lucky stars, be grateful and stop complaining?

So by extension, it is probably ok also for me to acknowledge my struggle to bond and my feelings as real, valid and ok right now. Because as much as she is a much longed-for baby, it can be tough and I guess we don't really get a say in when things and life can all just add up and become too much. It need not always make sense either. But our feelings and struggles remain real.

Trying to get to know each other, me and this little alien that crashed-landed into my world.
Feeling very overwhelmed by the normal day to day stuff looking after a household, bills, washing, cleaning and so on and so on...On top of caring for her and her proud big brother.
Days when a letter from school about head lice or something as simple as running out of bread again could make me want to curl up in the fetal position and switch myself off from adulting for a while.

People often say that we are brave and strong. Us. People like us. But I think what it boils down to is that we just try doing the best we can with the hand we were dealt. Sometimes we succeed, sometimes we struggle. Occasionally we fail miserably and quite spectacularly.

So I think I lost myself a little these last weeks. And admitting all of this (out loud to my GP) was a little daunting. But there it was. I needed a little help to find myself again. And I am getting there.

Knowing what worked in the past should hopefully help along the way. So I will give that a shot.

Running is my mindfulness and my practicing "being present".

Listening to music while running helps me deal with emotions and anxieties bubbling below the surface... Either the music or the lyrics help draw them out and the run just leaves me feeling like I've had lots of hugs and ten counselling sessions one after the other... Releasing that tension.

And counseling. It just works for me: This talking to someone. Venting. Saying stuff I can't say to others. Getting help in finding ways to verbalise and perhaps even make sense of what is going on in my head and heart.

With two sessions down and having restarted the running and the writing, I am already feeling better.

Doing the best I can. Despite the huge MISS in my life.