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Some of you will know who I am and I'm fine with that, I just can't have this on my own blog at the moment, too many people in real life read ...
Before the Awful Terrible I was the most laid back person, I lived in a world where nothing could ever get to me. The Husband used to joke that I lived in a bubble and he was right. After losing my mother at 9 I decided that nothing could be worse than that. I didn't let things get to me and I tried to see the good in everything. If in doubt ... laugh.
Then something did happen. It's four years since the Awful Terrible when I learned that the world can be a dark place, and people aren't always what they seem. I waded in, took on more than I could handle, in an effort to protect people, and sank into the quicksand head first. The bubble well and truly burst and I struggled.
It took two long years to get back to a place where I was comfortable. I realised that I couldn't rewind life, I couldn't save everyone from The Awful Terrible and I had two small, loud people who needed me.
It still rumbles on, quietly, underfoot, the Awful Terrible. The situation will never go away. Every so often it tries to pull someone under and I feel like I have to hold onto them and stop them from being smothered by it. This causes stress, stress that I can no longer cope with. It whips the rug from under my feet and leaves me flailing like an upturned beetle waiting for some kind person to come and flip me back over.
I recognise the signs, creeping up on me, again; problems with my memory, a panicky feeling for no apparent reason, no longer feeling happy when I know I should, feeling like I'm stood outside looking in, so many thoughts in my head that I can't just grasp hold of one.
I'm good at dishing out advice, telling people what they should do in hard situations. What I would tell myself, today, is to concentrate on the important things, the small stuff can wait and go and see the Doctor.
It sounds so bloody simple. I know my limits, I know when enough is enough, I need to step back and take my own advice.
Just for the record ... I am not suicidal, thinking about harming myself, weeping for no reason or thinking about running away with the circus ... althought the latter is tempting.