Wednesday, January 19, 2011


It's happened. I've been taken hostage and taken underground. I've fought it, but she's taken over. She's forced her hand. She's decided that she's not happy with the decisions I've been making and has had enough.

Since Saturday morning... no, since before Christmas last year, I've been sick. Nauseous. Shaky. Achy. Feeling old. Tired. No, exhausted.

And I've stopped. Not because I wanted to. Because I had to. She - my body - made me.

I've slept. How I've slept. Twelve to 15 hours every night. And then another 6-8 hours during the day. At least.

After asking my eldest son to be easy on his old mummy on Sunday morning, he exclaimed that I was "a young mummy still". (Would someone please saint my perfect child, please?)

I've stopped sleeping to eat. To have a bath. To brush my teeth. To read my kids a bedtime story. And then I crawl back into bed where I feel truly like I should be. Think: magnet stuck to a fridge. That's how good it feels.

This is new to me. Very new. I've never done this before.

And I've never done this before, either:
  1. Asked my husband to stay home from work to look after the lads while I slept.
  2. Accepted a very kind offer from my in-laws to look after the lads while I slept.
While I was lad-free, I also stayed awake long enough to visit my doctor.

"So what lurgy brings you here?" he asked.

"I don't know. Everything." I said, trying not to cry.

"Well, do you have the flu? Are you sick? Pregnant? Nauseous? Depressed?" He pressed after checking all my vital organs.

"I don't know. I'm just so tired." Tears flowing.

Perhaps I am a little depressed. I've been feeling blue about the floods. About Lori. About Agnes.

As a very good (and very wise) friend said to me today, "We all have times where depression creeps in, sometimes we think of it as something that cripples us and we lie in the fetal position in the dark, but that's not always true."

I'd like to think that perhaps I'm a little depressed because I'm so exhausted. Because I feel so sad for those who have lost their loved ones. Yep. That's it. And my bed is the drug I need to get better.

I really hoped to share with you some other more positive things I tried before she stopped me. But I promise a more inspiring positive post later. But for now, remember that you need to stop too. Or you'll be exhausted. Just like me.

Please share what you did new this week. Was it to have a hot bath every night (like me), or to spend more time with your partner? If it wasn't something relaxing, did you up the ante this week? All you have to do is follow a day in the life of us, blog about your new thing, and link up below (oh, and add this pretty button to the bottom of your post).

I promise I'll visit you when I can. But bed is calling me right this moment...

a day in the life of us