Sun, sea

I’m really enjoying my time here. In this unusually hot weather we went to Bournemouth beach yesterday 


I did break down and cry when we arrived because I knew how much my kids would have loved it and I miss them terribly.

S has been scathing in text messages, so I limit my communication with him. I’m still trying to reconcile that he’s not the same person. Of course in this weather there were all couples and families and I’ll never have that again. It’s deeply upsetting, but when I think about how S regards me now, it’s obvious it won’t ever go back. I just need to process that. I need to let go and I need to stop letting S upset me. 

I’ve been talking to the kids everyday and it helps to see them. But I wish they were here. In fact I’d go so far to say that if my children were here, I’m not sure we’d return to NZ. So much has happened and I’m not looking forward to starting over again. But I feel more confident about starting over here in a place I know. Maybe it’s easier saying that because I’m on holiday here. 

I can still feel the depression is around me. But I’m pushing against it. I know my parents will never really understand it. But I’m trying to be more present and more involved. Doesn’t help that Dad makes quite a few inferences to my weight. I knew it’d be an issue, so I’ve faced it by cracking jokes. But really it hurts. I don’t want to be this big.

Otherwise my parents are being great. And I’m enjoying being here in ‘daughter’ capacity.

I do miss my little dudes though, so very much 

Settling in

So of course I’ve found my wedding photos, little momentos from S, old pictures of when we first met. I expected to break down in a heap. I haven’t. Not yet anyway. I guess I knew it was inevitable. I think the thing that stops me from feeling it so strongly is that I know he wouldn’t feel anything. He is so unattached he wouldn’t recognise himself, nor relate any memories. Another timely reminder that this is definitely over and there’s no going back. He isn’t the same person in the pictures. He doesn’t care like he used to. Already he’s blamed me for our son being behind at school over FaceTime, when I was trying to find a solution. He seems to like making me feel useless, digging out my failings and insecurities.

Today is the first day I’ve felt normal since getting back. My headache has slowly retreated, and I feel less foggy and confused. It’s been unbelievably hot here! And the long, light evenings are really strange to me! I’m still sleeping a lot and I think my medication regime is still trying to settle. But at least I feel human. It doesn’t usually take me so long to recover from a flight. I suspect my weight has been quite a contributing factor to that. That and all the stress I was under in NZ. I feel like I can actually breathe properly here. I feel less oppressed, there are less expectations and I’m able to rest, or have the company of my parents as I need. Currently I don’t feel like a burden to them. It is truly nice to feel like I’m home.

I’m even showering regularly! 

Tomorrow Dad wants to drive to Reading to visit the cemetery where his parents are buried – its Father’s Day here tomorrow. I was very close to my Nan, so I’m glad to go. I have no anxiety about going out, in fact I think I’ll enjoy the road trip. It’s supposed to be another sunny day. 

I’m not sure what I’ll be doing for the rest of the week, or if I’ll continue to feel relaxed (I really hope so) so I’m just taking each day as it comes. I know I had some major concerns and regrets on the way, but now I know this is the best thing I could have done.

Arrived!

I’m absolutely shattered, so I’ll keep this brief. I felt like the day would never end, I’ve been in a sitting position for almost 50 hours. I ache, I feel sick and I’m finally horizontal!

I really regretted the flight and thought I’d made a terrible mistake but my parents have greeted me with open arms. My old room has been set up beautifully and Mum had a huge basket of a variety of hair products, body stuff and bath treats. I have felt truly cared about for the first time in ages.

It’s also been really warm here and the long, light evening seems weird! I have no idea on times and days, I think it’ll take me a while to get adjusted and get my medication regime back on track.

I have amazed myself today. Well, the last few days! I didn’t move from my comfort spot, but I have sought care from familiarity and faced the anxiety provoking travel, far away from my days in bed. I survived it and I did it alone.

I miss my babies painfully, but hopefully this will all be worth it 

In transit

I’m in Dubai now. It’s hot, and I’m sweaty and miserable. I couldn’t get comfy on the flight (I’ve not flown since I got so fat) and the service was pretty abysmal. I’ve flown Emirates back in the 90s and didn’t like it then. But it was part of a special deal. 

Surprisingly I don’t have flu symptoms yet, long haul and flu go together for me.

I’ve just had feelings of dread and regret in the air. I had a long wait in Auckland, and just watched the new series of House of Cards, but I was still in New Zealand so the gravity didn’t really dawn on me. On the flight I knew by each minute I was going further and further from my children. The regret was just as oppressive and added to my claustrophobia. Especially as everyone else had kids on board. The reality also that there will be no more family vacations struck me pretty hard.

So perhaps my intentions were right, reality is already kicking my arse. My marriage is over and there will be no more family holidays. No more S and I managing the kids. I kept having the urge to cry but fought it off. There will be lots of tears when I land. If I ever land. 

I used to love flying. It’s just watching movies and having a waitress! But now it feels painfully long and uncomfortable. My weight is probably a big contributor to that.

You’d think in times of stress I’d lose weight, but instead I get fatter, and I’m not moving much either. The last few weeks have been spent mostly in bed, so the airport transfers alone are making me walk more than I do in a week. 

My anxiety has been really bad. I’ve been shaking and bordering panic attacks. I was a seasoned traveller. I’ve been all over the globe and I used to storm through airports. Now I’m shaking, sweating, my chest is tight from panic. I feel more alone than I ever have. Everything has fallen apart. I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m ashamed of what I’ve become. I see more clearly what S sees when he looks at me and I can understand his disgust. I’m nothing like the girl he married. I’m pretty revolting as it goes, and my passion for life is dead.

I owe my children more than this. When did I become so selfish? When did I let myself go so much? When did I stop living? 

I hate myself, I hate what I’ve become. My children deserve so much more.

I hope that I can find my way back to myself. If nothing changes after this UK trip, after all of this discomfort and hellish travel, I don’t know what I’ll do.

I miss my children and the unconditional love they give me. But I need to be better for them.

Packing

The day before I fly out. It seems unreal that this time next week I’ll have been in the UK for a week. It’s a beautiful sunny, warm autumnal day here in NZ and I keep wondering if I’m doing the right thing. But the feeling of ‘starting over’ AGAIN, house hunting and moving seems impossible. So it’s not that I’m happy and settled here. I’m just enjoying being around the children. But living in this house isn’t a possibility. 

Last night was lovely. S was away, the kids tidied their rooms and we all sat and watched a couple of movies. It was really amazing and evenings like that make me wonder why the days are so painfully hard. 

There’s a long gap between my arrival to Auckland and my departing flight. Im really anxious about it. I have hardly spent much time out of bed, so being in the loud and busy airport for hours it’s really anxiety provoking. Plus I’ll be devastated from leaving my children, so lots of time for regrets to settle in.

The only aspect of the flight I’m looking forward to is that at least in the air, nothing can be done. That is, no phone calls, no depressing mail, nothing I have to face and handle like I do on a daily basis here.

S has already arranged for his Mother to come here while I’m away. I feel like he blames me for the rift between them (she never approved of me), and he’s forgotten how difficult she was. It’s like every negative thing in his life, every bad thing was because of me. He blames me for the separation, even though he told me he didn’t love me and told me repeatedly that our marriage was over. I just don’t understand him at all. But as I’ve said before, he is happy, so I guess in some way I was making him miserable. It’s just amazing how he was able to stop loving me so quickly and start resenting me so passionately.

I know I drone on about it and I shouldn’t. It’s one of the reasons, well, the main reason I need to get away. I need to clear my head of this stuff. It’s so confronting dealing with it every day. 

I don’t know how compassionate my family are going to be. Considering they think ‘mental illness’ is really something easily controlled and more a state of mind. Their response to my feeling anxious (about other stuff) already has been ‘well don’t be’ as if anxiety can be stopped. And I know they’ll struggle to understand my unwillingness to get up and function. I’ll be considered ‘lazy.’ But it’s a risk I have to take, because I’m not getting anywhere alone. And I’m hoping in amongst all the negative stuff, they’ll show some caring.

I’m looking forward to seeing my best friend. She’s heavily pregnant, so I’ll be excited to be there for her. She swore she’d never have children, so this was quite a shock! And she gets me, so at least I won’t feel totally isolated. 

I’ll just be glad to be on that departing flight so I can close my eyes and take my head off. Although I know it’ll start a fresh lot of tears.

Leaving NZ

I’ve managed to use the last of my money and scrape enough for a UK flight. One way. I’m going to miss my children desperately. They’re my only reason for living. Without them, I’m nothing. 

But I can’t carry on down this path of destruction. I have lost everything and I have nothing else. I can’t see a way out of the storm and I’m so tired. I hope that being home I can rest, I can grieve and I can find myself again. I’m failing as a mother all the time now. I can’t keep letting my kids down. One day, I want them to be proud of me. At the moment it hurts to breathe. I can’t imagine ever enjoying life again.

So I leave next week. The warewolves in NZ won’t be able to get me there, although I have plenty of demons I need to excorcise in the UK. Strangely that seems easier to comprehend right now.

I will return to my babies when the time is right. I have not given up on NZ. But right now, it’s not my home. I’m miserable and I’m not niave, that will follow me home. In fact for at least the first few weeks I know I’ll be inconsolable. But it’s a tidal wave of grief that needs to be felt and nurtured.  I don’t belong anywhere. But at least I can find solace in where I originate from.

I don’t know if it’s the right or the wrong thing. I can’t trust my judgement, I can’t handle decisions. I’m overwhelmed and over wrought. But I’m doing the only thing that makes sense. I’ve hit so many blocks, there comes a time when picking up and starting over no longer works, even for the strongest. Something needs to give. I only hope with all my heart that a few weeks away will give me some peace and the ability to find my fight again.

Respite

In respite, I’m really getting the rest I need. I miss my home but feel this is the best suited place for me at the moment.

I saw the kids for a few hours today and it was really nice to be with them, be part of their lives. 

S’s mother has come down to look after the kids. I can’t stand her and I know this gives her LOTS of ammo over me when it comes to the divorce but the reality is, I can’t be on duty again next week. I’m exhausted and my patience is frayed. I really do need the time to get through this. And here I have no responsibility, no commitments and no one to ferry around. I know it sounds incredibly self indulgent and selfish as a mother, but I really do want to be my best for the kids. At the moment I’m severely lacking and trying to look after the kids to stop S’s mum is simply a stubborn and selfish thing to do. At least I know they’ll be relatively safe.

I can use this week to sort out medications and hopefully find the will to live! I had to admit that my medication review has given me hope. I think I was so disappointed these medications seemed to stop working and lost hope. It stupidly didn’t occur to me that I could take some different pills. Admittedly I’ve tried a full raft of pills, but there’s always new things added and combinations to try.

Tomorrow my case manager is taking me to see this new day programme for nut cases. I’m not sure if I’m ready to be thrown into the fire but I’ve told him if it’s too much, I’m leaving. But at least I’m trying. I have also booked a drs appointment for tomorrow afternoon to get my migraine medication on prescription. Over the counter it’s very expensive and is really chowing through my money.

I actually slept last night and didn’t wake with a migraine which is a huge contrast to the last few nights prior. My head felt like a balloon – it was amazing! I’m wondering if that’s due to my reducing/stopping the olanzapine. I’ve noticed my hunger is already getting into more neutral territory.

 I’m still overly emotional and taking everything in the worst way possible. But at least I’m hidden away here, and it’s warm and safe and there’s no expectations of me.