This post is for the Blog Exchange “Blog like nobody’s reading” prompt.
Nine weeks ago I broke my foot. Which is pretty crappy in itself.
The worst part though? It’s made me realise how alone I am. That I literally have no one I can ask for help. Of course my husband is fantastic, but he works long hours. My mother-in-law has been wonderful, driving me to appointments when she can, but she works also.
So that’s it.
For nine weeks I’ve been walking my daughter to and from kinder every day. On crutches at the start, then eventually just in the moonboot. Sometimes in the rain. Moonboot, two umbrellas, a school bag and a four year old. I’ve been offered a lift exactly twice in the past nine weeks. Most of the times the kinder mums just drive right on past me. I guess I can’t blame them, I haven’t been able to make friends with any of them. I’m always so busy at drop off and pick up managing Milla, I don’t have the opportunity to join in with their small talk when they all stand together chatting. I made it once to the park after kinder, and actually managed to talk for a few minutes. But then Milla saw a bee and had a meltdown and we had to leave.
It’s a startling realisation when you take the time to think about it. I’ve had nine weeks (and counting) to think about nothing else really. I’ve never had my family to rely on, so that at least was nothing new (though a depressing reminder). However to be nearly 35 and have literally not one person to ask for help and support is downright depressing. The only person who has even thought to ‘check in’ with me over this time has been my beautiful friend Lisa from Two Point Five Kids, who I chat online with nearly every day. Lisa, who lives on the other side of the country, and whom I’ve never even met.
My phone stays quiet.
I’ve cried a lot over the past nine weeks. Sometimes from the pain. Sometimes from the frustration. Sometimes from the loneliness. Of course the Black Dog has been hanging around, as he does when I am at my most fragile. Telling me what a shit person I am, how disposable I am, how I’m really not worth the effort it takes to be my friend. I can’t run as fast from him when I’m physically broken on top of the usual emotionally broken. But still I run, never stop running.
I’m sure this gloom will pass. My foot will eventually heal (surely?!?) and life will continue. I will put my game face back on, hide my vulnerability and remind myself that I don’t need anyone’s help.
Linking up with~