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Stupid day

Today is a bad day, I had trauma dreams last night, not surprising, given how much I was directing my writing towards “him” yesterday. It helped though, I don’t regret the things I wrote. I am also starting to get nervous about my therapy session on Friday and my thoughts are turning to what else I need to say. The symptoms are to be expected I suppose.

The dreams left me feeling hyper vigilant this morning, which was bad timing as I had to take my husband to the train station early. Any change of routine is difficult, add in the stress of leaving late (why are we always late! GRR) plus hyper vigilance and I was a wreck. I was late getting my oldest boy to school, so I had to take him to the office, where I promptly burst into tears. I felt like an idiot. Then I was late to work and as I dropped my smallest boy off, I managed to hit his head with the car door, cue lots of tears from him and me, plus a load of guilt. I arrived at work highly stressed and dissociating.

This afternoon, I had errands to run after picking up my boy from school, I only did the most important but my toddler seemed to be playing on my mood, he was awful and I really struggled to deal with him. Normally, I’d come home after a day like that and my husband (who usually works from home) would be there to help out if necessary. That safety net is so important. I don’t have that today and I am struggling.

I am shaking and finding  the noise and jumpiness of my boys difficult, the bouncing and singing.. the normal lovely parts of children, are just too much today. I’ve given them food in front of the TV, to allow me to sit and write this rant. A friend is picking my husband up from the train station, so that is one less stress, but it seems such a long time until he will be home, when really it isn’t. It makes me feel pathetic, it makes me feel like an unfit mother because I can’t handle my children alone. And that makes me angry, I am so angry right now, the symptoms seem to be getting worse by the minute. Roll on bed time for them. 😦

I don’t like coming home to an empty house or being in the house in the dark without someone else (the children don’t really count)! It has me feeling paranoid and on edge, which I am concealing from my children and that just adds to the pressure and stress. I don’t like people knowing I am here without my husband, yet I feel safe in my home town. These feelings of fear are not attached to now and that makes me angry. Ugh, I don’t even know that I am making sense. I hate this.

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