I'm almost myself, just not quite

It's been touching to have a few people check up on me as I've been absent, particularly those who don't know me from Adam in real life (thank you Rachel and The Boy and Me).

I sat down to write many times in the last seven months and each time found myself an hour later staring at a blank page. I didn't understand why. There was so much going on in my life - back to work, two children to bring laughs and experiences into my life - yet I had nothing to say. That was reflected in my personal life. I could happily talk about nothing with work colleagues and acquaintances, but conversation ran dry with old friends.

Looking back now I can see that I had simply lost myself. I could function, I looked after my children, I threw myself back into work full time. There simply was nothing else left. Looking back at my year of maternity leave I can now see that I went into full avoidance mode: I started a peer supporter course when Badger Cub was three weeks old (obviously taking him with me); I volunteered at a new mums group at a local children's centre and spent my time listening, sympathising and giving information and advice in as unbiased a fashion as I could. If I concentrated on sorting out other people's issues then I didn't have to acknowledge my own.

Thankfully this has changed.

Maybe it was the Sertraline? I have been taking it for seven months, six of those at the relatively low dose of 50mg per day. A month ago I decided (after much research) to lower my dose to 25mg. Timing it with the onset of PMT probably wasn't the best idea but we survived the emotional onslaught and I've levelled out on the other side. The "brain zaps" in the first ten days (apparently a common withdrawal symptom) were unpleasant but have passed. I'm going to leave it at least another month and then try to come off it altogether, only not coinciding with PMT this time!

Maybe it was the CBT? I certainly think it has helped the personality in me that adores process and checklists. Being able to recognise my thinking errors and core beliefs has stopped the downward trend of negative thoughts.

Maybe it was the counselling? That was eight hours of my life I'm never going to get back... Possibly the most awkward I've ever felt, but perhaps that's the point? Having a stranger sit and wait for me to talk, to spill over with emotion, to watch me not talking. If nothing else it identified that I was angry. I was angry over the way I had to fight to break NHS red tape and birth my baby the way I wanted. I was angry that NHS policy could be so blind, so fearful of litigation and blame that they'd prefer to cut him out of me. Rather than confront that anger I diverted the energy into breech support forums, into peer support work, into anything that meant I didn't have to deal with it. The anger is diffusing. Still there but fading.

Maybe it was a combination of all of these, and also the relief that I had acknowledged the problem and was doing something about it.

I'm not quite there yet, not quite found, but I'm getting there.

Image courtesy of Arvind Balaraman / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Finally out of quarantine!

It's been an interesting week. In the early hours of Monday I woke to the sound of Father Badger coating the bathroom in vomit, Exorcist style. Cue Badger Cub waking up, so I ended up standing outside the door nursing, while passing towels and disinfectant spray through the door to a very sorrowful husband. We went into full preventative mode - once Badger Cub was back asleep in his cot, I did a second clean of the bathroom then replaced all the towels, colour coded so no one shared. Antiseptic hand gel went out. Father Badger was put under strict instructions not to touch the children or any of their things unless absolute emergency.

We figured Baby Badger had had the bug as on Friday evening she'd been a bit sick with a high temperature, so off to nursery she went. Unfortunately, that turned out not to be the case and on Tuesday afternoon she decorated my parents' sofa in similar style. We went into lock down until Friday - no visitors, no trips out, no contact with anyone else.

Have you ever tried entertaining a stroppy three year old and a ten month old that chews everything without allowing them to touch any of the same objects? Challenging to say the least, but I must have managed it as neither myself nor Badger Cub suffered. I'm hoping we're clear now.

I've also been on the Sertraline for just over a week now. I'm not sure much has changed but apparently it can take a few weeks to have any effect. I have noticed that I no longer have the anxious knot in my stomach when driving in the dark, which is nice, but I was definitely on a low last night. I know why: I played at my band's Christmas concert last night, something that always signals festive spirit, but I'm just not feeling it this year at all, and it felt odd not to feel even a little bit Christmassy.

I had my first therapy session on Thursday. I don't think it's going to come naturally to me - it's all about opening up and me talking, something I'm not very good at. We did work out that I'm pretty angry at a lot of things but internalise far too much, so my homework is to spend half an hour per day writing whatever I want in my "angry book". Six more sessions booked.

Image courtesy of nuttakit / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

More yoghurt m'duck!

Baby Badger has been astounding me for some time over just how much she understands. She has just started communicating clearly back to us, obviously for in the areas that she considers to be the most important, one of those areas being food (she is her father's daughter...).

I say "Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?". She signs for food  (a hand tapping the corner of her mouth) and legs it into the kitchen! She finishes her plateful and a very definite "MORE" is uttered. This weekend's huge achievement revolves around our fall back food: plain Greek yoghurt. It's been a staple of her diet for a while, having been introduced by me after seeing just how much sugar was in the baby yoghurts and fromage frais. She loves it, and has always been excited at the mere mention. On Friday evening she signed for it: she made the Y sign. Yes, I know that's only the first half of the sign, but give her a break, she's only 16 months old...!

We've been doing animal sounds for a while: "clip clop" for horse, "moo" (cow), "baa" (interchangeable for sheep and goat). Father Badger swears blind that she can also do "sss" for a snake but I've not heard it yet. The most amusing one is "duck", but with a distinct northern accent. The jury is out as to which side of the Pennines the accent spring from as there is a grandparent from both (and I've got a distinct southern accent). Other words include "ball" and "door". It's all great fun!

Image: Master isolated images / FreeDigitalPhotos.net