The Rollercoaster

On monday I am going to go and get help. I'm scared. Very scared. It's the unknown. It's difficult asking for help, admitting that something might be wrong. What if they tell me I am being rediculous, and what I am experiencing is totally normal? What if they tell me I'm a total nutjob, and slap me in a straight jacket?

Of course I know neither will be the case, but the mind boggles, that's the thing with the unknown I guess. Our expectations are always worse than reality. But I'm also doing it to myself. Part of me is saying "Don't be silly girly, snap out of it now, stupid hypichondriac, nothing like this would ever happen to you, I bet you're just trying to get attention..." and so I end up feeling guilty because I know there are other people who are worse off than me, that need help more, so why would I waste someone else's time with my problems?

Then I fly off the handle again, and realise that no, this is definitely not normal. It happened again today. Although Sweetheart was to 'blame' (in my mind anyway), it wasn't taken out on him. I asked him to feed Darlin' Boy so I could go have a shower (which I was WAY overdue for ~pee-ew~) and he promptly dissappeared into the toilet for his daily dump, and by the time he re-emerged Darlin' Boy had already eaten half his brekky, but I gave the bowl to Sweetheart anyway, and he tried ONCE to get the spoon into his mouth, and gave up, just like that, and said "Oh you can give him the rest, I can't do it, I'm gonna go have a shower while you're doing that." I managed to hold my composure, no fireworks yet. It wasn't until I got into the shower and realised that the hot water was all gone that I exploded. A whack on the shower screen door, and then a few to my head. Yup, very scary.

So when I go out on Monday I have to remember that. Getting help will be nothing compared to NOT getting the help I need.

But you know what... The amazing thing is that I am calmer than I have ever been with Darlin' Boy. And we had a really bad couple of weeks re: sleeping and eating (or lack of!) and I am handling it really well. I can say "Ok, I have done everything I can, you have had milk, food, clean nappy, you are tired, there is nothing else I can do for you, you're just going to have to lie down and go to sleep by yourself." More for my own assurance than for darlin' Boy's benefit, but it works. I can close the bedroom door, and walk away, loving that little person just as much as I always do.

I wish I could do that with Sweetheart.