I’m writing my last entry for 2017 before 9pm in bed. I’m feeling really unwell and teamed with my medication, it’s making for a sluggish and disoriented period.
Last night I was up at Steve’s and was struck with the same debilitating PTSD symptoms. I’ve given up trying to question the whys now. I wasn’t triggered, the house is safe and yet I had this unrelenting fear of an intruder, coming to do me harm. I suppose the greatest feeling that accompanies this is loneliness. I have no one to share my fears with. No one to give me comfort or reassurance, or even at least acknowledge and validate my fears. I just have to push it down and get on.
Today I took Ava for her final vaccinations and a microchip. I think I found it more unbearable than her! But the microchip is so important.
Following on from her appointment I felt too unwell to do anything else. I actually felt faint at times, and the sweat was pouring off of me. We came back to my house and I awaited a text that said Steve was leaving Napier so I could estimate their arrival time.
Of course that text never came. And now I’m bed unwell and it’s all my fault and the kids wanted to stay in Napier and I dragged them away from all the fun up there. Blah blah blah. I get fed up being the selfish, meanie mother sometimes and there’s no reasoning with Steve. Once I’m in the dog house, I’m fully there to stay. Still, at least it gives him something to bitch about to his parents. My failings. If only I could be as perfect a parent as him.
I have no desire to see the new year in. I’m done with hoping for something better. It’s just more disappointment and shit to handle, with a different number at the end.
I have no inspirational comments or pseudo motivational sound bites to make. It’s just me signing off one miserable year, expecting the same next year.