Hello, hello! I'm ba-ack!
It's a funny thing about holidays with kids.... they are terrific fun, but memory has a way of erasing all the tiresome things about family holidays. I had forgotten about the sunscreen-induced whining, the midday boredom, the minor husband-wife bickering because you aren't used to spending all that time together....need I go on?! I guess this holiday was extra-difficult for the first few days because Louey had fevers for a couple of days, then on the third day Ben had a stomach bug and threw up copiously, twice.
Despite these setbacks, we still had some great swims, some melty slurpy icecreams, a walk around the headland (kids piggybacked by Fatty and I most of the way due to the shortness of their legs and the slowness of their gaits), and a very 'chilled' BBQ with some friends of ours who were staying just nearby. See, my memory is already deleting any unpleasantries!
On a serious note... I've been reading some other blogs, catching up, and noticing that quite few of my 'blogpals' have posted about feeling overwhelmed or even clinically depressed. I always admire their honesty - especially because often it is easier to 'gloss over' our lives, and pretend that we have it 'all together'. I mean, at times that might be the case, but I don't think anyone really has everything under control all the time. So I just wanted to do my bit of confessing and admit that before this holiday, the day before we were leaving, I had this awful feeling of dread, thinking - sure, I'm going on holidays, but the week will pass quickly and then I'm back to the relentlessness of my life, and especially the relentless fear in my work - the constant nagging worry that I will do something wrong, such that someone will come to harm because of me. I felt a bit panicky. Then I felt panicky about feeling panicky! - just wondering how to get the feeling to pass.
I know I was partly just stressed getting everything ready for going away, and probably really did need a holiday from my job. It disturbed me, though, to feel a rising sense of 'it's all too hard and will never get any better'. Mostly because it wasn't a thought I was having, it wasn't a hare-brained idea I'd gotten into my head that I could just put aside. This was a gut feeling, a sickening sensation that told me there was no point looking forward to the break because it would be just as awful when I came back again. Which is silly, I know, but I couldn't shake off the feeling, bordering on despair.
I feel a lot better now - back to my usual fairly positive self. And I know that what I felt for a day was what others endure for days, weeks, months or longer. So I'm really not saying poor me - just saying that if everyone was to be brutally honest, we all probably have secret fears and anxieties - to lesser and greater degrees. At least through admitting them, hopefully others will feel less alone.