I am a failure
This post is depressing. It’s about depression. Depression that came out of nowhere and seized my life. It took my soul away and I sit here writing this, feeling just a shadow of my former self. It’s a jumbled collection of bad luck and bad feeling. I apologise to all my readers who enjoy my usual happy upbeat posts. I just have to let it out somewhere.
Since I went to Britmums Live, I feel like a total failure. I feel like there is nothing at all, that I’m good at. I feel like my life is slipping out of my hands and I have no control over anything.
Someone I thought was a close friend, recently decided to question and criticise every single aspect of my life, even parts of my life they’ve never seen or have any understanding of. They made me feel like scum. Lower than scum. It cut me like a knife and I still get upset thinking about it.
Another friend regularly makes snide remarks about how I look. I’m not even sure if she knows she is doing it half the time.
I am a good mum. I’m a really good mum. But I’m pretty sure it is the only thing I am good at. And it is so hard to be a good mum, when all I want to do is curl up into a ball and cry. The kids routines and cuddles are what gets me through each day. They are my beautiful blessings and my saviours.
I am a rubbish housewife. I hate housework. And I think often I’m probably a rubbish wife too. I lose friends as quickly as I make them. I snap at people and push them away, without realising I’m doing it. It’s as though I constantly feel like I’m hurting and I want to pass that pain off onto others. I know that’s wrong. It’s been a long time, since I had a “best friend”, but the one I am closest to, doesn’t seem to want to know me any more.
I’ve not been able to work much lately due to my health problems and I’m still struggling with the grief from my ectopic pregnancy, even though I’m told by many, that I should be over it by now. I have no idea how I managed to listen to the moving keynote speech about miscarriage, by Grenglish, without breaking down. I’ve certainly made up for that lack of tears since I left London.
I’ve been skipping hospital appointments. One with my consultant, to check my Thyroid Cancer hasn’t returned and another for a procedure I have to have, to remove cells (possibly cancerous) after an abnormal smear. I’ve missed six appointments now in total. I’m too scared of the C word, to go to either appointment. I’ve convinced myself that I have cervical cancer, but I can’t face finding out for sure. What if I don’t survive the third time around? I’m no longer the strong fighter I used to be.
Hubs and I are having to downsize on our home (which is only rented anyway), due to the debts we accumulated when I had Cancer. It seems there are 101 obstacles preventing us from moving. We are sitting in a black hole.
At Britmums, I was overwhelmed by how many people came to talk me. And especially when one or two said they felt “starstruck” or that they had “always wanted to meet me”. I’m no star. I’m even a failure at blogging now. I’ve not managed many posts since my Ectopic Pregnancy. I have so much to write, but so little time and when I find the time… I just seem to be tired.
Many people asked me how my #EmmasArmy campaign is going and how the walk went. I am happy to talk about the walk – It was hugely challenging, I did it with a fabulous and inspiring group of people and I’m proud we all achieved it. But on the whole… I feel like my whole idea was a failure. I wanted lots more people involved. I set out to raise £20,000. We aren’t yet up to £3000. I haven’t even made my own personal target of £1000 yet. I feel like I’ve let Cancer Research UK down and that I’ve let many other people down by not achieving anything like my goals. So when people ask me about my fundraising, I just get this sinking feeling in my chest.
I have so many goals, that seem so far into the future that they are unobtainable.
Every day this week, I have driven the school run, late, with tears streaming down my face, trying not to let Bunny see.
I feel completely and utterly alone. Nobody seems to know how to help me.
It’s shocking how much depression can affect your physical well-being. I can’t eat anymore. I feel sick all the time and if I try to eat, I feel worse. I have palpitations and feel like my ordinarily low blood pressure is through the roof. I constantly switch between shivering and sweating, I’m dizzy, I’m weak and I cry all the time.
I’m known for my uplifting views on life, always looking on the bright side and finding the good in everything. I’ve always been a fighter. People call me inspiring. But now, I’m uninspiring. I’m a self-pitying wreck and I hate myself for it.