Picking It Back Up

So, I’ve been feeling really down recently. I think I went over ten days without posting a thing on here. Even on my laziest of days I usually find the three minutes it takes to upload a photo to flickr or copy and paste a poem I have saved at home. But no. I’ve not really been bothered to do anything other than watch TV.

By that I mean watching far too much Criminal Minds – to the point that I was completely paranoid about taking mum’s two foster children to the toilet in a fast food restaurant because we all had to go in separate cubicles. I ended up leaving my cubicle door open in case either of them tried to walk out or in case someone came in to try and abduct them. The fact that my husband was at the bottom of the stairs made an abduction quite difficult, but you never know! That is what TV has taught me.

Anyway, so I’ve been so down that I can’t even write. Usually when I’m a bit down I write poetry or at least blog. Or perhaps both of these things! For the past, possibly month, I can’t be inspired to do anything. I don’t know whether I’m just having a particularly stunningly negative month (only two days left until the next) or whether it has something to do with the laparoscopy I had at the beginning of March, but all I’ve wanted to do is hibernate.

The hopsital freaked me out so bad that in the morning when my husband came to get me, I told him I never wanted to be in hopsital again even if that meant that we didn’t have children. I’ve calmed a bit, but I still hate the idea of ever having to stay overnight in one again. I also still have slight pain. On the outside by the scars and on the inside. Some days I put it down to being too active whilst on others I think I’ve pulled it. Sometimes it’s simply because the youngest foster child (3) understands I can’t lift because of the “hole in my tummy”, but that doesn’t stop sitting on my lap and leaning back on it! Nice.

I’ve been back at normal walking speed for a few weeks, well maybe a bit slower as I tend to walk quite fast. I seem to tire quite easily at the moment. I’m also cycling to work at least twice a week. Maybe my negative mood is because I’m doing less exercise so have fewer endorphins. When I was younger I called them dolphins; I have fewer dolphins swimming around in me.

And then I had my amazingly negative day after a dreaded FB announcement, which culminated in me going on a photo trip to the local harbour and noticing every child in the vicinity. I started studying the parents if they seemed older than me and calculating if their oldest child meant that they were older than me when they had their first (I read somewhere the other day that the average age in the UK for first children is 29.1 Years. As a country we’re the second highest in the world apparently, which is odd given we tend to have the highest teenage pregnancy rate inside of Europe. I’m past the average, but every average needs people above and beneath it). And then, any parent who couldn’t seem to control a child (the father sitting near me who let his three run amok and out of his eyeline – has he not watched Criminal Minds; it only takes a second!) had me glaring at them.

Not only did I blog about that mood, I wrote a poem and a half. I might just be climbing out of the negative. Either because of a hormone shift, a father who couldn’t spare the attention or the lucky friend who’s pregnant for the third time.

Here’s to a happier month,

~ Persephone M

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