Duvet day

alarm clock analogue bed bedroom
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

So I’m having a poorly day ☹️ typically hot, sweaty, unable  to stand up without passing out or throwing up and so currently I’ve been stuck in bed for the entire day with my feet propped up in the air. A proper duvet day scenario…and it’s a weird one really. 

Firstly there is this big part of me who had this to do list of jobs ahead of myself for the day. Houseyhold things I wanted to achieve, like unpacking the pantry (we’ve recently just moved house and are still living 50% of our existence from the contents of mystery boxes), bake a couple of cakes for Elizabeth school on Friday and maybe take the dog out for a wee stroll with Harry. Nothing too exciting but little achievements that sustain the soul. Then, secondly on the opposite side, there happens to be this other part of me, who is actually, still pretty knackered from the move. I’m tired of all the running around, not knowing where anything is and trying to systematically run our everyday chaos in and amongst unpacking loads of random ass boxes and chasing animals and children round this crazy house, whilst attempting in vain, to stop them piddling on the new carpets…the animals not the kids…I don’t think?!?! 🤪

It’s properly mental here, at the moment and that exhausted part of myself is pretty grateful to be tucked up in bed with Netflix to hand and a jar of emergency skittles only a mere arm stretch away. I feel like poo but I’m happy, I’m frustrated in my lack of usefulness but yet relieved I finally get to have a decent nap (I love naps…there is little in life more satisfying than a good nap). It’s a conundrum (I had to spellcheck that one!) and it’s messes with my head at times because I end up feeling guilty. I know I wouldn’t choose to be here if I didn’t feel poorly but at the same time I’m not wholly hating the experience either and that leaves me wondering if I’m actually just a teeny weeny bit lazy and maybe, I could get out of bed and bake 2 dozen cookies, if I really cared enough…I do care…but maybe not enough ? I don’t honestly know…

I have been caught out in the past and allowed my guilt to hoist me out of bed, fuelled by martyrdom, straight into the kitchen and before you can say ‘Mary Berry’, I’ve gone from Celbrity Master chef (with only a mere dripping of spite and resentment)  to Spongebob square pants with my face planted on the kitchen floor, forehead suctioned to the Lino and the dog licking  stale, days old Cheerios off my cheek….this and my husband looking at me with that, ‘was this really necessary’, kinda look on his face (not that he has a problem with my vertically challengeness, it’s just he struggles when I risk myself without just cause and baking for school, when we have a perfectly good Waitrose around the corner, apparently doesn’t count…sorry school). 

So I’m slowly learning. Super Doris is not what is required on hot, sweaty, brain fog days and instead, compliant, resting Doris is much more family friendly in the long term…but it SUCKS!!! I feel soooo bored as most of the time my mind cannot think clearly enough to write anything, my vision is blurry, so reading anything is off the table and you it turns out, you can actually only physically nap for a couple of hours within the entire day…that’s it…I’ve really tried to do more…it’s boring being stuck in your bed whilst the rest of the family run around engaging with life, bound in bed, watching Hamish (Amy my wonderful live in Carer, otherwise know as the ‘back up mum’ (working title)) doing all the fun stuff with the kids, picking them up hearing about there day, make tea etc…which is sometimes the hardest aspect of it all, as I feel useless and a bit surplus to requirements.

Then there is the flip side of this sticky coin and that is, I’ve watched 3 films, had a massive nap, my daughter came in a cuddled up on the bed to share her day with me (in between sobs, sulks and various complaints of life not being fair (she’s only 8!!! I think we are in for a rough couple of years), which I only got to share in because I was trapped here and it was lovely and magical and I truly feel blessed that I can give her this time and focused attention. Being there to support her through that, whilstpoor  Hamish, does all the stuff for the kids, runs around after my family, puts the washing in and makes tea but then…surprise surprise…I choose to feel guilty about not pulling my weight! Can’t win! 

The thing is I guess, it’s all about perspective. Whichever way up life is facing, it’s can suck if you choose to look at it through a tiny straw of misery and self pity or by the same token , it can also be a gift and a joy, if you are brave enough to ignore all the whispering voices of doubt and condemnation, instead choosing to just, ‘chill the f*#k out’.

Today was an unproductive day…I guess that’s going to have to be okay (it rhymes!😀) and maybe tomorrow will better and if not, there always the ‘Pitch perfect’ trilogy to work my way though.

Having chronic health sucks far more often than it doesn’t but at the same time, without it, my life would look very different and I certainly wouldn’t have the time available to be constantly present for my kids, even if it happens to occasionally be from my own, personal duvet tower.

Be kind to yourself.

Too many people are primed and all ready to pull you down, that way, they don’t have to sit down there, all by themselves, in their own guilt and queries. Remember misery loves company.  But just because your invited to the party, that doesn’t mean you have to go!!! 

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