First Day of School …. might help to be organised ….

Right now a bouncing ball and a fly on the outside of the window is distracting.

I struggle to stay hinged to a conversation flow, and to complete a thought — all I want to do is drink a mug of tea, and then switch it up to a large glass of Chenin after 5pm and stare blankly at blog posts and pinterest.

My mind happily skimming over the surface of life, no one asking me to clean up shit, or when we can go play at Daniel’s house or what is for dinner.  Just the quiet and silent oblivion of internet crap and liquid down my gullet.

Signs of trouble?  You betcha.

This morning (which is the day before school – Connor is going to grade 4, first day of school for Georgia, so sort of a big deal) I asked Kennith if he had got the stationery for the kids.

I had seen a pencil list lying on the kitchen counter and I assumed he had picked this one up as a task he was doing.

Kennith responded: No one asked me!

Me: Shit. <<silently wondering that no one had asked me either, but it seemed to be on my list of things to do …. but I will let that slide ….>>

It will mean that today will be running to get the last of the stationery at the stores that more prepared mothers have left behind.  1/2 of what I need will be missing.

Tonight I will get to sit with a marker and write Georgia or Connor onto 3 000 items of stationery as I develop arthritis in my writing hand.

Fk!

I thought we were organised this year.  We went and bought school uniforms on the 23 December.  We were the only people in the school uniform store.  I thought we had score a touch down and were the most organised parents.

Kennith bought Georgia a cool school bag, so I was so sure.

But like Christmas Eve when you realise you have not bought a present for your significant other and need to do the mad dash to Checkers and see if there is anything on their shelves you can wrap, today/tonight is fill stationery-list day.

Of course the catch is that I do not actually have the stationery lists so I need to go and find those.  Fabulous.

Officially the most disorganised and dysfunctional mother of January 2012.

<<my pill doctor office appears to be closed …. seriously if you are responsible for issuing medication to less than stable people, then you do not go on leave …. I mean seriously….seriously??…..>>

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It starts again ….

That creeping sensation that things are not quite as they should be.

The whispers of self-doubt.

The gnawing sensation that everyone is plotting against me.

The hiss that people are talking about me.  Incessantly.  Always in the negative.

The worry that I am doing something wrong.  Everything wrong.  About to be “caught out” for doing something wrong I have not even done.  At all.  Ever.

The sounds of whispers and innuendos and recrimination.

Small sounds reverberate in my eardrums as echos.  My children’s chewing that sounds like the brass frkn band going off tune next to me.

The mental arguing and cross-questioning and “should I” or “what if…” and “maybe you need to go and fix that….”

Unfortunately it has all started again.  It was so lovely when it was gone.  It was so lovely.

It started as a quiet whisper in the darkness, but now it is turning into screaming in the day.    It might just be because I am feeling exhausted.  Tired to the bone.

Not ideal considering “yearly holidays” has just finished and I am in negative leave.  I could climb in to bed, pull the covers over my head and sleep for a week.

On the upside it is not depression.  Yip, fkn hooray for that.  Talk about seeing the silver lining.

But it is the mania – the creeping sensation of the full-blown anxiety as it’s bleeding fingers start to linger around the edges – the exaggerated sense of anxiety – every nerve ending hot like a poker – at the same time my brain starts to shut down because it can’t deal with multiple stimuli.

Yesterday.  True Story.  I forgot how to fill the kettle with water.  I was trying to make tea and coffee, and I knew I should fill the kettle, but I looked at the kettle and thought “fk how do I get water in there….” and the I opted to boil the kettle and hope there was enough to fill two cups.

By the time the water was boiled and I poured the water in to two cups, my brain went: “Hey the kettle comes of the thingy-me-bob, you just pick the kettle up and direct it at the tap thing …. and tah-dah….water in the kettle”  But I could not work that out earlier.

When you cannot mentally work out how to fill the kettle with water, it is time to call in medical supervision or at the very least a priest and an intervention or exorcism going.

Fk!