Well, it happened. The breakdown that has been threatening to crash and overwhelm and consume me finally happened last night. And you know what? I am still here. And contrary to the first sentence of this piece, it does have a happy ending.
Eyes are swollen and sore, my hair desperately needs a wash and I am not wearing a bra today because it hurts my back, it doesn’t fit me anymore and kookai makes those tops with those crop tops inside them and my boobs are currently big enough to prop themselves up. So – that’s where we are at today.
Before I get into what happened last night, I want to talk about a conversation I had with my boss yesterday. I was talking to her about how tired I have felt even aside from the fact I am pregnant. We got to talking about what my days look like. Up before 6am, head to the café for a coffee, drive to work far too early, write for half an hour, go on a half an hour walk, work for eight hours, go home, cook and bathe myself, attempt to pack up my apartment and in bed at whatever time my body gives out.
Needless to say, she was not impressed by this.
Why does it take for someone else to tell you something as simple as, “Rest” for us to actually listen? She said to me that it is no wonder I keep wanting to faint every day, it has been my body telling me to slow the fuck down and I simply haven’t been listening. Her simply telling me to stay in bed for half an hour to an hour more each day (which I can do and would still get to work early) was like her telling me the greatest secret ever told.
“Instead of getting up as soon as you wake up before six,” she instructed me, “just lie there. Rest.”
“Instead of busting your ass of a night to make sure you have lunch,” she continued, “you can buy it sometimes.”
“Instead of getting into Newtown at 7am,” she mocked playfully, “get into Newtown at 8am.”
My mind exploded and the undue stress that I have been placing on myself every day came into seriously clear focus. Things seriously needed to change.
Now, as I have mentioned before, Man and I have a huge month coming up. Moving is an ordeal in and of itself. Never mind the fact that I will be sixteen weeks pregnant on moving day, both of our car regos are due, I have to inevitably deal with Telstra and Energy Australia, and I also need to make sure my apartment is spick and span for the next tenant. Man and his family are also about to start building up at the property, and he has a bucks weekend coming up and then we have to go away for a wedding. Don’t get me wrong, all of these are good things (besides the car rego and Telstra and Energy Australia), but it is just a lot for a couple that is already exhausted physically and completely drained emotionally.
So, it all came out last night.
All those really hard thoughts that we keep to ourselves, “I don’t think I can do this anymore,” “No, I really can’t do this anymore,” “I just want this all to end”, well, all of those thoughts were verbalised. And they were scary. I felt ashamed to have felt so overwhelmed. I felt really sad that I have not been able to be stronger for myself, my partner and my bubba. It got really ugly and there were a lot of tears and heaving sobs.
This morning though, doing my writing as I do, I found myself writing the words, “I feel like I am missing my own pregnancy because of my own sadness.” And no truer words have I ever written; no words from my own pen have ever hurt me so much. How did it all get to this? Because I really have been happy, even on those low days, but I shouldn’t have to search for those joyful moments. Not ever.
It was a really powerful and clarifying moment.
Breakdowns are never nice but the torrent of words that spilled from my mouth also means that there is none of that negativity left circulating my body or my brain. It is all out there, and now I can move forward in my pregnancy happily. All of the worrying and stress that I have been placing on myself and, in turn, on my relationship has done absolutely nothing positive for us.
All I can do though, is continue to learn throughout this process. I have always been a very fast-paced person. You can quite literally ask anyone who knows me and they will tell you that I am constantly on the move. I can’t even lie in bed of a Sunday for fear that I should be doing something else. One of my most favourite things is drinking coffee or tea in bed and until this morning, I cannot remember the last time I allowed myself to do that. I’m not reading anything at the moment. I haven’t done the bay walk or visited any of my favourite markets.
What I have done, is completely isolate myself from myself.
I don’t want to be sad any more. And I don’t want to have any reason to apologise. I don’t want to continue down this path and miss all the fucking glory and happiness and joy and love of our bubba. I want to focus on those lunch times that I walk to the park and talk to Bubba about everything I see as opposed to waddling through the door complaining about my back pain. WE ALL KNOW YOUR BACK HURTS LEAH, PUTTING WORDS TO IT DOESN’T HELP. Seriously.
I apologise to you all for rambling on about my woes instead of my wins.
Here is a win recap of all the things that have happened recently that I haven’t shared with you because I was too busy being a victim:
I joke and make fun and post funny gifs, but please don’t ever mistake that for me making light of something that is serious, and something that is very close to me. One’s mental health is the single most important thing for any of us to look after, nurture and take care of.
Stay strong lovely ones, and know that I’ve got your back.