Isn't this afghan amazing? It's not mine! I discovered it on Ravelry and can't stop looking at it. What inspiration!
Well, hello my lovelies. I am sending you big, woolly hugs, I've poured myself a coffee and suggest you do the same too. Shall we take 5 minutes to put our feet up together and catch up? Good-oh.
It's been a very dark couple of weeks here in East Yorkshire literally and metaphorically. I have been really, really struggling. There have been lots of days when I have double locked all the doors and refused to open the blinds and curtains. Jonny has a secret knock and Dom has to send me a text message just before he gets home. I know this isn't right, and I feel dreadfully sad for my family, but I just can't help it. I need to feel safe.
There has been a lot going on, relating to the closure of the business, that I can't really talk about on here. But it has made me feel very frightened and panicky. I can really relate to the 'fight or flight' feelings that books on depression always mention. My self esteem has really taken a knock and there are days when I wonder whether everyone would be better off without me.
Having said that, today I am feeling an eensy bit more positive, so I don't want to dwell too much on the darkness. Suffice to say, I have been / am there, if you are in the black pit at the moment.
On a positive note, I have reached out for help and got some amazing responses. Weird as it may seem, I emailed Dom and told him how suicidal I was feeling; I hadn't wanted to trouble him before as he has a lot on his place. He has been marvellous. I emailed The Samaritans one especially bleak afternoon and they responded, saying they were glad I felt I could talk to them. I don't know why, but that sentence made me feel warm inside and has been very helpful. Perhaps because it didn;t make me feel like a burden. Also, I posted on a forum I visit regularly and got some lovely responses from friends old and new. Many had experienced the same thing and, in a funny way, it's reassuring to hear that it's part of a process. I have also had some wonderful, wonderful comments from Postcrossers - welcome, if you're visiting! Even though I feel in a dark place personally, I feel blessed to have some wonderful, loving people around me. I can feel you, even if I can't always respond.
I haven't blogged for ages because I couldn't motivate myself to take some pictures. That would have meant getting the camera out, charging it, finding something to photograph, finding some good light, arranging the pieces, uploading the images, editing them etc etc - it was just too many decisions. I missed you though. I love blogland, it gives me the opportunity to engage with the world in a voyeuristic way, but engage with it nevertheless. And it's warm, personable, friendly and inspiring.
I have always considered myself to be something of a bloke's girl and, having a brother, husband and two sons, that has always been useful. However, at the moment, I find I am craving female company (I hope that doesn't sound rude?!) I have been thinking about it a lot, and I realise that it's a need to feel mothered. I have spent the last 13 years of my life mothering, and now I feel as though I need something back. I don't mean this to be a criticism of my own mother at all, because this is quite an abstract feeling.
Let me sum it up:
I want to be somewhere safe, where I don't have to make any decisions. Somewhere where I feel loved and cherished. Somewhere clean and warm and comfortable, with clean, nice smelling bed linen. Somewhere I can relax completely and not feel guilty, or as though I am not pulling my weight. Someone who will hug me, and laugh with me and leave me alone if I need it. Someone who will understand me without needing to say a word. Somewhere I can undo myself and be properly vulnerable for the first time in my life, so that I can put myself back together properly and face the world again.
My husband really can't provide this for me, it's the mothering of an older woman I need. Someone warm and wise and who really, really wants the best for me.
Imagine you have clenched your fist for a long time, really, really tightly. It would hurt, wouldn't it? In order to recover from the pain you would have to gradually relax each of your fingers until they were straight and then massage them until the pain had left. And wait for a good long time until you had forgotten they had ever been clenched in the first place before you used that hand again.
That is where I am at the moment. My fist has been clenched for as long as I can remember. I guess I am in the process of relaxing, and I know it's going to take a long time.
Today I opened the curtains and blinds for the first time in a week and let the weak afternoon sunshine in. It's a start. Now I am going to wrap myself up in the afghan I made, and have a snooze on the sofa. Dom is home late this evening, so I have lots of time to get the chores done. I will iron his shirts, I think, and make a cake. A couple of little ways I can let my family know that I love them.
I have started Christmas gift knitting and it's really helping me through the tough times. Did I say I have had tonsillitis for a week now? Just in one tonsil, it's driving me mad. Anyway, tomorrow I will share some knitting pictures with you. At least I have written about the darkness, and now I can draw a line under it.
I hope all is well with you. I think about you often.
Chin up
Claire x
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