I had no warning that halfway through getting dressed this morning, halfway through my morning preparations for the day, I would hear Rufus, my Black Dog, so clearly, so distinctly it was like he had never been away.
It has scared me that so far down the track, the little voice inside my head has such power over me. It has scared me because I don’t want this to be a slippery slope down to pre-partum depression, my GP has already told me that she will be taking special care of me to ensure I’m monitored for postpartum depression, but before Peanut has already arrived?
I had felt happy when I woke up, and tweeted about checking twitter, with a cup of tea he’d brought for me and it being a good start to a Monday. Within an hour and a half, that good feeling had gone.
I couldn’t eat my breakfast, I was full after a slice of toast. I felt fat, I felt frumpy, I felt worthless because Hubs had a bad night, so I felt that all my hard work over the weekend had been for nothing.
I now sit at my desk trying to concentrate, frustrated on arrival at the office because despite me asking repeatedly, whenever I am away from my desk, or out the office, to put things in my in-tray. Nothing is ever left in my in-tray. Stuff is left all over my desk. The post had been left underneath my mouse, an exiting member of staff’s checklist had been left underneath my keyboard, my pen has gone missing. All stupid, trivial little things, but in this mood, it reminds me that despite my best efforts at work, people don’t listen, don’t care about what I do, the systems I put in place. They just dump things and run. It seriously pisses me off.
In this mood, I’m worthless. In this mood, I’m nothing. In this mood, no-one will win, because I’ll either get frustrated or angry and snap someone’s head off, or I’ll dissolve into tears. In this mood I know that I need to be left alone to work it out.
This breath. Now. Here. Not where my mind wants to take me, which is to run over and over the imagined injustices that have ‘happened’ to me this morning. It takes all my energy, effort and concentration to stay here. Because literally sitting on my shoulder is Rufus, whispering in my ear, ‘You’re nothing, see someone’s even stolen your pen, that’s how little they think of you. You’re nothing. No one respects you.’
I hope it is just today, I hope that I can tame this mood, wrestle it to where it belongs. I hope that my lack of appetite is because I’m pregnant, not because my throat is constricting out of fear. I hope.