Falling and failing and getting darker.


Its the middle of the evening, Naoise is still running around dressed and wanting to play, Syd is in the bath. Patricks time is being demanded by me and Naoise. This is impossible. I need help but its not working, juggling the needs of the children with job applications is a recipe for disaster. I need to manage my own time and my families time more effectively. I need to be strict.

Naoise will not settle at night so we are trapped in this constant state of disorganisation, unable to find any time to work together on projects and adult commitments, and responsibilities that require the attention of two not one grown ups. We are in this together…right? Are we a team or aren’t we?  I try to be independent and not ask of anything but actually I do need help. I do really need help.

My time is spread far to thin. I am trying to claim that time back for me. I get distracted by helping other people when actually I need to concentrate on improving my own situation. Help yourself Helen. Help your own family first. How selfish it sounds. Oh this is so boring. This process of bettering myself and applying for work. Am I not enough as I am. I am doing my best, I am. I am. It all feels so difficult. I am moving through a muddy space. It is dark. It is dark sooner now. By seven it is dark. Light falling. Leaves falling.


I am tired. Too tired to make any sense. I am tripping. I am sad to be saying goodbye to the summer. I find this death time. This dark time. This changing miserable. I don’t want to hibernate. I don’t want to be in. In is boring. Out is freedom. Inside. I hate being inside. I need space. I need to be able to breath. To move. This house is small and restrictive and it closes in. It closes in on my heart.

Me and Naoise were late to school again. Its ok we got there. We got there without tears and too much anxiety. I tried. I tried. He wanted to sleep in bed, sleep on the sofa, sleep at the breakfast table and then sleep on the sofa again. Naoise is tired. I am tired. We are all tired. Clearly we are all doing far too much.

I cannot carry all the feelings, needs and expectations of my family. A family wants. When they want so much I run away to writing, to art, I run in the hills. I am good at running away. I need constant support and encouragement not you should have done this, you should have done it like that, you need to change this, you need to do that. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh

The weather was mild and beautiful but I have had enough of today. A day when I have achieved a half finished job application, a tidy front room, washing up, drying up, laundry, recycling, caring, helping, encouraging, communicating, managing. I have thrown it all in the air and I can’t catch the balls, no I am not good at juggling it all. There is tension in my shoulders. I don’t want to juggle.

Watching Cider with Rosie whilst drinking cider was good. That was good escapism.

Haphazard keyboard music going on upstairs. Naoise is playing with his dad and I am elsewhere in this space. I am here between the spaces of the words and sentences and pixels and paragraphs. I am the full stop.

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