Some days I feel so grateful to be alive. Well, most days. But then other days, I find my mind wandering to the thought of death and how great it would be to not 'be' anymore. The thing is, when I'm having a good day, it doesn't enter my thoughts at all and if it did, it would be very saddening. I'm at a bit of a low eb today, everything feels very repetitive. It usually comes after Will has had a day where he's feeling low, usually for some social related reason and I try my best to lift him up. It's tiring. It's made worse by our different communication styles. His frustrate me, he talks in matter of fact sentences which act as a way to shut down whatever we're talking about. He doesn't ask questions, he's quick to take offence and he doesn't like to explore, he wants to move on as quickly as possible. So I end up having to bury it because heaven forbid, if I do try and go back and talk further, I'll be punished by cold puppydog stares, eggshell treading the silent treatment. He won't say sorry. It's just so childish, I just want to punch myself. I often do. My legs are covered in bruises as a result of burying what I wish could be said.
We need couples therapy. When will we have time? Never. I'm sure he doesn't think anything is wrong. For the most part, we're okay. But sometimes I wish I was with someone else.
We're going on holiday with his family next week. I'm very lucky to be going along. But I'm also apprehensive as it'll be a lot. A lot of socialising, a lot of solo looking after the boy, a lot of pressure to drink, to be 'on' to be funny, conversational when really I want my own space. Sigh. It's the last week before my precious one goes to nursery... And I, back to work. It's an end of an era. I've been looking forward to it and dreading it at the same time. I know it needs to happen of course. A new chapter. I've got to embrace it, let go of what's weighing me down and enjoy the now. But it's so hard to do.
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