I’ve lost the fight today. Today life feels like I’m sat in a small boat in a big ocean, storm rages all around and I’m trying desperately to steer in the right direction whilst bailing water…its exhausting and at times terrifying. Add two extra passengers that need reassurance, support, love and direction too…don’t forget to bail, look for obstacles in the distance, eat. I’ve been working seven day weeks of late, obviously being self employed its not classed as ‘work’ after all I can pick and choose my hours, but building a business requires me to be available to people, at all times. I know its a negative perspective conjured by my tired brain but it feels very real.

Having felt confident yesterday I wake up feeling unsure again, overwhelmed. That in itself is enough to knock me down. I guess because I don’t have to be anywhere. Having been at work so much, I am now faced with my personal space. I live in chaos at the minute, managing to clean around the mess but overwhelmed with all the things that need to be got rid of to make room for bigger children, clothes that no longer fit mainly. There is so much I need to do but so little time and I am tired, the sort of tired that makes your bones ache. I know I just need to make a start, that momentum will pick up once I get stuck in, but for now I feel ashamed at getting to this point, its the one part of my illness I find hardest to tackle, the hoarding.

I know that I am doing better, I know that its just got to be tackled in stages, that I’m impatient. I know I have achieved a great deal in the past six months I just wish I could get to a point where I can appreciate it, instead of the constant self loathing. I am trying to live each day rather than ‘get to a destination’ there is no destination, I’m in it, I’m it.

Wallow in self pity and then move, take action, do something about it and crack on. There’s no mystery its just hard work.

I’ve made a start and am making progress…its something, and that’s better than nothing.