Everyone has down days. I have spoken about this before in a post entitled 'The Good, The Bad and The Ugly'. Everyone is entitled to them and it is perfectly normal to have them. We are not all Mary Poppins 'Height - Practically Perfect in Every Way'. We do not live in a movie or a TV series. We have real lives, with real issues and real emotions and sometimes, no matter how hard we try, and how much we busy ourselves to avoid them, sometimes, just sometimes, they get out.
Since I had J1 and our lives surrounding the words 'disabilities', 'special needs', 'equipment' began I have to admit those 'down' days became much more frequent to me than they ever were before. In fact, at one point not long after J1's diagnosis I was told I had 'reactive depression'. And I had to admit I did. I took heart that because it was a condition that had arisen due to a rather large shock that time would heal and it would drift away. And it did.
And I am pleased to say that since that wretched year (it took about a year to bugger off and my brain to process all that had happened and start to cope again) I have managed to avoid any bouts of it since so I am happy that it was exactly what they said it was; reactive.
What I have now I believe are perfectly normal 'down days' and after I have had them (and I again, am pleased to say that they do generally only last for one day) I look at them and think 'Hmmm cycle related? Tiredness? Exhaustion?' Usually it's a combination of all 3 and my brain must think 'Er no, not today love, I need a day to wallow'. But the important thing is I can pick it up, look at it, assess that it was a one off and file it away in the 'Down Days' lever arch with no worry.
I haven't had too many of late I am thrilled to say. Probably because things have been so out of kilter with the Hubby's operation and such that I just plain haven't had the time and maybe that is why I just did not see the last one coming! It caught me so off-guard it nearly knocked me into the next century because it followed our amazing day we'd had for J1's birthday.
In fairness, it was feeling under the weather, yet again, that was the first blow. We have been blighted, like most households seem to have with this darn headcold that 'just won't quit' for over three weeks now. And now it's delights have channelled into the sinuses, which led me to have my first ever migraine. Dear Lord! It was the worst pain I have felt bar child-birth and a mere mortal Ibruprofen did not touch the sides. J2 looked at me with fear and trepidation as I cried in pain at a mere hair on my head moving. Despite the Hubby's medical issues right now, he had to step in with the childcare, putting me in a darkened room with some codine and taking J2 on a jaunt on the train leaving me in silence to try and sleep it off.
But once I was down I was down, I could tell and I knew it was going to be a long and tearful day. I cried at the tv, I cried at the happy birthday pictures from the day before, I cried at all the equipment in J1's room, I cried at the fact that although I love our house it just isn't big enough, I cried at all the tidying up I didn't feel up to doing, I cried at hearing sad news that my friends wife had finally been moved into a hospice, I cried when J2 wouldn't get his pyjama's on. I maudled. I felt sorry for my self. I felt guilty for the struggles J1 endures everyday that I can't change.
I went to bed.
Sneaky Sneaky it sneaked up on me this time but I'll be ready next time and the next day I woke up anew and counted the blessing that I have in my life and filed that day away.