Understanding Me!

I love writing my blogs and I love making people laugh. Some of my adventures may or may not be real- I will let the discerning reader discern. However, this blog post is of a more serious nature. The sad woman behind that fake smile. The sad woman behind the fun blogs. You know how they say that the comedian usually puts on a front and suffers with depression- well it's that one! But sometimes a blog like this may switch on a light in someone else's brain. I am going to try to explain how I feel over a couple or even three blogs. It may even go to four. Thats the thing with me - ya never know! So here is how it is.....................

TEARS AND LAUGHTER

Sometimes I want to jump and down and wave my knickers in the air. Other days I want to curl up in a ball and just cry, and cry and cry. And other days I want to just die. Some days I can have all these emotions in an hour. Mostly I just sit, waiting for time to pass me by. Or waiting for Mines Mr Husband to wake up after a night shift. No loud telly. No phone calls. No vacuuming or singing or dancing or music. Just sat quietly, patiently waiting. Then when he gets up we just sit quietly- he in his corner and me in mine.  Don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with us. It's how we are. I am the talker. I do most of the talking. He does the listening and the grunting. Then I cook dinner and he goes off to work and I sit alone with the last of the summer wine- that's the tv programme set in the Yorkshire Dales- not left over fermented grapes in a bottle! Then I go to bed and I try to stay awake until I am so tired I sleep all through the night. Sometimes I wake up in the night. I think about stuff. Stuff that I can find a reasonable answer to in the day time. Am I on the right path? Is it right my kids should go on punishing me for leaving twelve years ago? Will I ever have a proper relationship with them? Will I ever be allowed to see the grandchildren I religiously send cards and presents too throughout the year? Will I ever hear my eldest tell me that he loves me again? Then, as if that's not enough I worry about my niece and how she is coping and then I worry about the state of the world. Will the Russians get us? Will the terrorists gangs from the middle east get us? Will I burn in hell, or will I be turned away? And mostly will I ever be well again and well enough to work, or will mines Mr Husband just tire of me and swap me for another baggage with issues? Then it all mixes up in a dream and I wake in a cold sweat only to start the whole damn process again. Mines Mr Husbands days shifts are better because I am able to sing, dance, vacuum, watch telly and have sound with it. I can even drop pots and pans if the mood so taketh me!

Mines Mr Husband wants to understand me, and how I feel and most of all he wants to know how to help me. Is there help for someone like me? I feel so sorry for him that I wonder if he would be better off without me. How awful for the man to have to try to gage everyday whether today its going to be up day or a down day. This time of the year is hard. The weather is dreary and cold and I can't go and take photographs. I can't even get decent photographs of me tits in the garden, but there are still a few Robins about. Also we are approaching mothers day and all I keep thinking is it will be miserable again - just like all the other mothers days since I left my adult kids with their father in the middle of my breakdown. I think I want to die mothers day- yeah that will teach them - they will always remember me on mothers day then. It would be unfair to say they never bothered at all- last year I was told 'there are presents and cards here if you want to come and get them'. Well, NO, I Bloody don't. I shouldn't have to chase around for cards and presents. They should be loving and considerate enough to come and bring them to me. I am an hour down the motorway - not the other side of the feckin world. The year before last the youngest two and their partners came bearing gifts and stayed all day. It was a lovely day, only marred by the fact I didn't see my eldest and my grandchildren, but its a cross I have to bear. In 2009 when I returned to the West Country to live all three of them spent equal parts of the day with me and I had a lovely dinner out with my eldest and the grand children. It was lovely. I would have treasured that day more than anything even more if I had known how miserable mothers days would be from now on. And I know, its my own fault and I have to be punished. You never think your kids will punish you or hurt you when they are little and you are holding them tight at night and snuggled up. But they can and they do. I think I could dance and sing and wave me knickers in the air if things were different. If they loved me I could. But I would still have Aspergers and I would suffer with manic depression or bi polar disorder- whatever the fancy words are these days for being a nut job. Cos thats what them there peoples think of us people with crazy heads. I don't want to have moments when I am covered in dark swirls of cloud with the over riding voice saying 'you should just go and kill yourself. You won't be missed. They won't care'. I argue with this over riding voice. I try to reason with it. 'They do love me probably and they would feel a bit sad surely? And what about my parents? And what about mines Mr Husband? He tells me I am beautiful and he loves me, even though I don't know how'. And then the over riding voice says- 'You know the kids won't even know unless Mr Husband tells them- they really don't care. They wouldn't even go to your funeral. Your parents are old and they won't be around forever and your brothers and sisters don't care anyway because they think you are demonic and that's why they don't speak to you anyway. And Mr Husband is practical and he will get on with life. In fact he won't have any trouble replacing you. There are loads of nut jobs out there'. Then I crash to my knees and I sob my heart out because I don't know what the best thing to do is. But I do know I have figured out the how to do it if I get to that point. I have found now that if I bake when I feel like this the smell of the cakes sometimes lifts my mood. Who doesn't feel better at the smell of freshly baked cake? Then the mood can lift and I can be happy as Larry. I want to tell Mr Husband why and how- how can you explain to someone else when you can't understand it yourself. I know its better for me to be outside in the world where there are other people doing stuff, but I don't want to be with other people doing stuff. They get too close and I can be as friendly as the next if I have to be, I can talk the hind legs off a donkey. I am not afraid to tell people anything about me. I can tell them I suffer with depression and that I need to be locked in my own world with no outside noise. But then they back away. Whoa- too much to handle. Or they console you by saying 'well we all have down days'. That's ok then. Why don't you tell me a friggin joke as well!! What we don't all do is find ourselves in a big black pit that you can't climb to the top of. And what really annoys me is when someone is unkind or sharp with me when I am feeling low- it just tips the balance. I am liable to burst into tears at any given point. Some people can shrug that off. I used to think I was that kind of person. My mother used to say about me ' she got skin like rhinoceros' that one. Or she would say I had 'heart like stone, a swinging brick'. But I just thought I knew how to keep my emotions in check when I needed to and now I know that its not that I don't have empathy or feelings - I just don't know how to express them. I am pragmatic about death. It happens. Like shit. Its sad but it happens and we have to go on living with it. Of course I miss people that I have lost and I feel sorry for anyone who has lost someone. But it's what we do after we have finished our business here on earth- we die. I get it.