Tag Archives: depression

The Hugely Significant Insignificant Thing

Yesterday an odd thing happened. Not a bad odd thing, not an amazingly deliciously strange odd thing either. It wasn’t like a sudden clicking of things falling into place, nor a Eureka! moment of life suddenly making sense, but it was something. Something small and almost insignificant, yet undeniably hugely significant.

This is what happened. Sitting in a warm photography studio waiting for costume changes to be perfected, for… Continue reading

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Maybe It’s Because I’m An Introvert

…that I love alone-time so. Or maybe it’s motherhood. Or my mental state. Whatever it is, I really do love a bit of space and time to be myself, by myself. It’s taken me many, many years to realise that this is OK, that my gut-felt hatred dislikes of large groups, of conversing in a group of more than three friends, of having every minute of every day accounted for… Continue reading

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Soft Play and Suicide

Today I went to a 6th birthday party. The Princess and The Pea demanded their shoes be removed before piling straight into the soft play, The Husband and I drank coffee and took the rare opportunity to actually talk to fellow parents from school, rather than shout a hasty “Hi how are you?” whilst running across the playground and delivering children to the school door 30 seconds before it closes… Continue reading

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I’m Back. Again.

I’ve been a bit quiet recently, on here, on Twitter, on Babyhuddle, just quiet.

I had another blip.  I know, I know, I need to remember to take the happy pills EVERY SINGLE DAY.  It’s my fault.  Mostly.  And some of it’s life’s fault.  I’m not feeling it at the moment, life.  It’s just not going that well.  I think it will… Continue reading

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Why Not Getting Depressed Is Like Not Getting Pregnant

So it turns out that taking anti-depressants EVERY DAY is really quite important.  A bit like taking the contraceptive pill EVERY DAY is really quite important.  Three years ago, when I felt like I was dying, I realised I had over a week’s worth of Loestren left in the packet so I peed on a stick, the window showed a pink cross, and then nine months later I had a… Continue reading

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My Perfect Life

Here’s some groundbreaking news: bringing up two babies is tiring.  It’s time-consuming, energy-sapping, sleep-depriving, nerve-jangling, and creativity-testing.  But most of all it’s just plain tiring.  This is the first (non-obligated) blog post I have had chance to write for weeks, and it’s down to the fact that The Boyfriend has had a day off, I had a lie-in this morning, we had dinner out so there’s no washing up to… Continue reading

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New Starts and Fresh Perspectives

I’ve been away from here for ages.  Not only was I without a phone for what seemed like a year, I took a holiday in the Lake District with my family.  There were ten of us in total, which meant lots of people to look after The Baby (actually it was just a huge audience for her to entertain daily) while The Boyfriend… Continue reading

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The Thing with Depression

The thing with depression is it never really goes away.  Even with therapy and even with medication, it never really disappears.  It goes quiet, sometimes it becomes so quiet it’s easy to ignore and even forget it’s there.  And then one day, suddenly, it roars again.  Loud and oppressive and impossible to ignore or forget.

The thing with depression is it’s complicated.  Sometimes it’s lured out of hiding by… Continue reading

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The Depressive and The Pea Part 2

I’ve not been around here much lately.  Not for any reason other than I have been absolutely knackered.  I had almost forgotten how tiring pregnancy is, except I can still quite clearly remember falling through the door after work and flopping straight onto the sofa for a nap for an hour or two.  This time round it’s not so easy, and I constantly feel shattered.  I want to sleep for… Continue reading

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The Depressive and The Pea

I had forgotten just how tiring pregnancy is.  Ridiculously, achingly, temper-shorteningly, tiring.  Every morning I wake up in disbelief that it’s actually morning (although sometimes I wake up courtesy of The Baby and it’s not actually morning), every afternoon I am desperate for a few hours’ sleep, and every evening I’m in bed well before 9pm.  And no amount of sleep is ever enough.  It’s like an addiction; a little… Continue reading

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