I apologise, this is a whingy one. For sake of my mental stability, I need to vent…

How I dream of sleep.

I say dream of it, I would if I could ever stay asleep long enough to have an actual dream.

Between the incessant 100 decibel snoring from the OH, my blasted bladder and poor DS’ cough I think I’m managing 5 hours of horribly broken sleep a night for the last week. This can then be added to by OH waking ME up because HE wants ME to check on DS instead of getting out the sodding bed and checking himself. 

OH of course could offer me a lie-in occasionally, but never does… he likes to appear that he looks after me in my Pregnant state, in reality he only manages it if looking after me doesn’t impinge his own comfort and needs. Example: “Don’t be so stupid. Do NOT lift that box of (feather light) decorations” yet happily watched me sort out and take out two bin bags of rubbish and the recycling half an hour later (this involves dragging it all up numerous steps, across a boggy garden and down a lane)!! This kind of menial task doesn’t bother me, it really doesn’t however his pretence at being the ‘man of the house’ (yes, I live in Victorian England here) is becoming insufferable as my tiredness increases. He wonders why I’m constantly irritated… let’s take a look around shall we?! 🤔🙄 

What I hate more is that it’s turning me into a whinging gas bag. I wasn’t intending this blog to be like this, but then I did say it was about my feelings so perhaps by ‘getting it out there’ without *actually* getting it out there and risking an argument to end all arguments, I’m somehow preserving this family by venting here. I’m also at risk of boring any friends I still hold dear to death with my constant whinging about him and have promised myself to stop.

Peanut continues to let me know several times a day that it is doing just fine in there and I just hope that by the time we welcome it into the world we will have moved and some of the stresses, that I’m hoping is the cause of this current situation, will be relieved. I hate the thought of bringing someone so precious and so wanted into such a toxic situation, it’s not fair.

I know I’m lucky to have DS and to have Peanut on the way, I know I’m lucky to have a roof over our heads and food in cupboards but I just can’t help wishing things were different. At 43 I never thought I’d be stressing out about affording a tea cake and a cup of tea, I feel like I’m ready to snap.

Tomorrow is another day, one that was going to bring my brother and his family over, I was so looking forward to it. Since mum, and now dad, died I feel totally alone in the world and seeing my brothers makes me feel part of something again. Now they have cancelled at the last minute for all I can think of is they can’t be bothered to drive the hour and ten here. I’m gutted, I’m beyond gutted, I was relying on this visit to level me out a bit, give me a bit of love, a bit of laughter, a bit of being part of something but now it’s going to be another day like any other but I am going to try and get my head together for Peanut and DS’ sake, if no one else’s. I think I may take DS and myself off somewhere for the day to get out of this god forsaken town because I think if I stay here another day I might just snap.

I apologise.

120 days to go


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