Still standing

Life is slowly returning to normal - thanks to those of you who commented on my last post. School begins again in a week, Hubs and myself are both back to work tomorrow, routine is beginning to kick in. The Small One is still suffering but it seems that the root of the problem is anxiety, which she was masking with anger and violence; we all feel much better now that nobody is screaming, and I'm not being beaten up!

Many sessions with the psych to follow, I suppose, but we are feeling our way through and managing to parent in shifts during the tougher times, and seem to have achieved a level of 'normal' which is bearable if not quite as easy as it once was.

I'm trying not to link SmallPerson's issues with any of my own, but it's hard not to. I drank when I was pregnant - very little, especially compared to my excesses in times both before and after my pregnancy, but probably a couple of times a week (only ever one drink at a time). At the time and long after I figured what the heck, she's fine, but when something like this happens it's very easy to blame yourself - especially when you'll never know the answer. Hell, does MY anxiety and borderline ASD stem from my own mother's drinking during her pregnancy? Again she wasn't a hellraiser, she wanted the best for me. Who knows if it has any effect?

Or perhaps I'm just beating myself up a little (a lot), because suddenly my perfect family isn't quite so damn perfect any more and I don't know what went wrong with it. Perhaps we were never all that perfect but I was so focused on ME being the one with the problems that I didn't notice it creeping up on her.

I am a bit low at the moment. My plans for a grand summer by the seaside totally failed, all the great things we were going to do, the fun we'd have. Here we are at the end of it, tired and stressed and with no good memories, nothing much achieved. A summer to forget, to be washed away by what has felt like near constant rain.

I should feel as though through all of it, the fact I've managed to remain sober is some sort of shining beacon. If I can stay sober through this shit, I've got it sorted. But somehow I even feel grouchy and depressed about that, what's the big deal, other people do it without expecting a fanfare after all.

Oh, some other stuff did happen. I got that tattoo - which really didn't hurt all that much, and which I really like, even if nobody else around me seems to. I've also joined a photography club and a couple of times now walked into a room full of strangers and come out feeling like I made friends. That's quite a big deal for me - plus it turns out I occasionally take a decent photo.

But for now I have to go. SmallPerson had a book on the stairs, I moved it, and a freak out is in progress. Yay.

Day who even knows any more can I just go to bed now?

It's gone midnight. I worked until 10pm last night and then got home at midnight. Now I'm in London, I'll be working till midnight tomorrow, and I'm tired dammit.

But I'm okay and I'm still sober.

Tomorrow is the festival with free booze on tap all day. I'll be tired and bored and tempted. I am kind of grouchy thinking about it - it will definitely be a time when I miss drinking. But on the plus side I get to drive us back to the hotel after and wake up with a clear head.

Today's highlight was overhearing someone describe their dog as having 'a face like an angry BeeGee'.

Also wanted to share this, much as I don't like the paper, I like the tattoos. Simple, meaningful. I've been wondering about getting a tattoo to remind me of this journey so that might be a good one (I've never been suicidal thank goodness but I have a long term depression and anxiety thing going on).

The one I keep coming back to is this one though, the left hand side.

Better sleep. Hope you're all ok out there :)