Bleary morning. Early start. Half-past five.
I could sense the beginning of an anxiety track, festering along the well worn pathways in my brain. It was focusing on the lack of sleep, the mere five hours of sleep, and it was aiming to ramp me out of my bleary-eyed state and into full-blown wakefulness. ‘You have only had five hours; you are going to find today difficult again; I can already feel how tired I am, but I cannot sleep…’ Round and round and round.
By the time that I realised what was beginning, it was six o’clock. It had been twelve hours since my last dose of Risperidone- and the medication seems to make me slightly drowsy for an hour or so- so I decided to consume the morning allowance. And go back to bed.
Now, at nine o’clock I do feel kind of short fused. I can recognise this. I can tell that my mind is spinning whilst I try to feed Master X his cereal and bottle, frustrated that at six months I still have no idea what he trying to tell me.
- I think he is defecating due to him pushing and a deep shade of crimson covers his face, so I give him a break in his chair, but
- I can see that he is rubbing his eyes and grizzling, so he must be tired, but
- He is smacking his lips so maybe he really is hungry…
It is quite humorous, really, that such a little being, can run such rings around me and that I, as an adult and carer allows the thoughts to progress to such dire states of thinking. Cycles.
Oh no, he definitely is passing something that I will need to take care of shortly.
Yesterday afternoon was tough due to this cycle of sleep that my brain keeps focussing and getting stuck on. The belief that Master X should be asleep, so why is he not sleeping when I (who obviously knows best) can see that he is tired. And so I run rings in my head, cycles, that loop and progress down until I am in disarray.
And then I conceded to my own mental exhaustion, saw that it was a quarter to five- which, is Master X’s scheduled bath time- and allowed myself the break of television. Evil screen time. Surely I was making a poor decision, exhibiting lazy behaviour, however at that late stage with an overtired baby, a cycle running rampant in my head from pure tiredness (due to my attempts at non-medicated sleep), yes I made the choice. However I did take time to explain to six month-old Master X that,
Everyone has bad days. Today is a bad day for you. And you know what we do on bad days? We watch television.
And we settled in to watch ten minutes of Ellen. Ahhhhh sanity.
If you or someone you know is experiencing thoughts of suicide please contact Lifeline immediately 13 11 14