Here I am, in a position I can only assume is bad for my posture, feeling ridiculously tired. But can I go to bed? No.
Because whilst Reuben might be happily sleeping away, having gone down with no fuss, I still have shit I must do before I go to sleep.
This post is procrastination at its’ finest. And yet, its something I feel is important to document.
This is the struggle.
It’s heading for 10pm and if I don’t get those dishes and bottles washed soon, I will be in trouble – with myself – for not making sure I’m in bed as early as possible so I can sleep at least six hours.
Lately though, Reuben has been waking himself up through the night because he’s banged his head off the cot. This wakes me up, it often sounds like a car door has shut inside my head, and then I’ve got go move him. He settles immediately, so that’s good, but the broken sleep still sucks.
But here I am, tears of fatigue in my eyes, laying on my sofa writing a post because I just can’t face the mess in the kitchen yet.
I’m trying to fix my eating habits, my shitty lifeless hair and my routine. I’m trying to get things together to move house (not anytime soon but it’s on the cards, prep is key). I’m trying to be a happy mum so I can laugh and play with my child. The house needs cleaning. My clothes don’t fit. Getting out of this flat is a nightmare. There’s no time for me. I didn’t do the laundry again. I have no energy for “hi how are you?” conversations with people just asking because they’re bored. I am so tired. Why can’t I ever arrange anything with friends – well because I’m scared I’ll wake up on the day and be unable to go and I’ll let them down. The bathroom light has blown and my water bill just went up 15 pounds.
Do you hear all this negativity? It’s crap, I know, but it’s my genuine issue. It’s how I feel when it’s ten to ten, and all I want to do is go to bed.
So, I’ll write this and do the dishes, wash the bottles and take the rubbish out. I’ll go to bed after brushing my teeth, hoping to get a solid few hours of sleep. And it begins again.
I’m not ungrateful. I promise you, I’m not. There are many moments in my day where I’m filled with happiness, gratitude and love. But I am ridiculously tired now.
Thankfully, Reuben’s father is now more involved in his life and this means I get a solid 24 hours for me. It is hard every single time, I cry so much, but I need that break.
I’m so sorry that I can’t be a bundle of joy, skipping around the kitchen in an apron with my boobs actually in a bra. I keep getting out, I keep trying to eat right, I apply my foundation with a brush now and I hope if I cut out the doughnuts I’ll become more streamline.
Under all that, I know I should be more patient with myself. Okay so I’m writing this because it’s something for me. Then I’ll go do what I have to do before I can sleep. At the end of the day, I am proud of myself because no matter how I feel I always do my best. I don’t let anything effect my parenting and I always have bright eyed smiles for my son. That makes me feel proud.
My identity, my self esteem, my life outside of being a mother may be on hold… But so what? I’m doing the best I can and I am making progress in the right direction too.
Thank you for reading!
With love, Rebecca xo
P.s. I updated this once I’d done what I needed to do, having put some tunes on, and found myself to be in a better mood afterwards… Despite my pity party previous to it I now seem to be in a completely different mindset. I think perhaps writing it all down and getting the feelings off my chest first helped a great deal. I recommend to all!