The Big Dipper….

“Life is a roller-coaster & you just have to ride it” so the song goes (ear-worm all day now).

When you look at the picture below, what do you see? (No need for rude comments thank you very much!!)

I’m guessing you see one person with more miles on the clock than a company rep car does in a year & 2 smaller (may I also add adorable, no bias at all….well when I say adorable, I should quantify with the word mainly first and also add / mini hell-beasties” as an alternative option) peeps.

Yes we are pulling faces, in fun (no one boffed as far as I know!) playing up to the camera & posing like the loons we are. Clearly having a good time.

So as one lady I met recently told me, pictures show everything, they tell the story, hide nothing & prove everything. And she has a point; we’ve all heard the adage “the camera never lies,”  Except it does.

The social media stage we are all a part of often shows only the good: that friend with the enviable life style, amazing figure, adoring husband, cutest of angelic kids, oodles of money, au pair, designer clothes & all the purported trappings of luxury, do we know what goes on behind the seemingly idyllic snap shots of #soblessed# or #livingthelife# Maybe she’s lonely, crying into her glass of Sauvignon Blanc that’s gone from the occasional one a night, to more & more of the bottle. Maybe her husband’s never home & she’s moody & passive/aggressive. He could be working all the hours to pay for the luxury life style or in a cliched twist he’s having it away with a fellow employee or maybe they just don’t actually like each other much anymore, who knows?

That other friend constantly posing (smug) pics of the organic, free range, fair trade ribbon courgette pasta spirals that she just knocked up in 2 mins because little Bella and Fergus just love mummy’s home cooked delights & wouldn’t know a chicken nugget (or heaven forbid a McD’s happy meal!!) if it bashed them on the head sideways! Yeah perhaps she knicked that instagram pic from Deliciously Ella/Annabel Karmel et al…. or (shush) simply stabbed an M&S ready meal (other supermarkets available) shoved it in the microwave & then lovingly ladled it on to plates, sprinkled a soupecon of seasoning over the top….. meanwhile little Bella & Fergus screamed from the corner & dumped the entire plate across the farrow & ball paint work & travatine floors….

I guess what I’m ramblingly trying to say is, a photo tells one part, the story we are happy to share but not the warts & alls hiding just below the surface.

I spent about 4 hours at home yesterday with hubby, parents & all 4 kids. This was a big step for me and don’t get me wrong in the main, I loved it. But it didn’t stop the paralysing fear when the kids were squabbling over who got to play with me first & for how long. It didn’t stop the shaking, nausea and trembling when Minx had a fit of the hee-bee-jeebies because I played with G-man first and therefore she equates that meant I loved him most. It nearly broke me; sent me rushing back to the dubious safety of my ward. Give up, give in, run away and bury your head.

These are the demons that want to control and dominate my world at the moment.

I’m incapable of making even the most minimal of decisions or choices at the moment: chicken or fish for dinner? Bath or shower? I can’t explain why it’s so hard to make such simple, roll off the tongue answers, I just can’t do it anymore. Maybe my life of late has been so full of choices, decisions, and & weighing options, my brain has gone into some protective shut down mode. Someone far clever-er than me & probably with a Doctorate in front of their name has some fancy word to describe it. All I have is me, myself and I.

And this evil, dastardly anxiety & depression is so sneaky, so cunning and sly; it has robbed me off my self confidence, esteem, self assurance. But I will not let this be a sob story, I will not let it define me or who I am. It may be where/what I am right now but life is a constant state of flux & I’ll ride with the rough & the smooth…. the highs at the top of the roller coaster where you wave your hands in the air like you just don’t care (& scream the adrenaline out) & the plunge at the bottom that whooshes the air out your tummy & leaves you praying half that it’s all over & in equal measure that you get to climb to the peak and sore again….

Returning to the ward is a double pronged approach with the sharpest of forked tongues….it brings a level of safety & the promise of prn meds plus the ever open doors from the nurses & doctors. But the undercurrent of aggression, palpable fear & barely simmering feelings of violence from some very mentally unwell patients is always there.

Every loud bang/shout/slam of a door, every alarm that sounds, has me trembling on edge, not knowing whether to stay put or flee to my ward (which is shared with a grumpy lady who told me off for doing my teeth too loudly at 6:30pm the other night & for putting my clothes away slamming cupboard doors 🤔 I’m torn between being empathic, sympathetic, understanding that she’s facing her own demons & difficulties that I know nothing about her own situation to going all Kevin & Perry Harry Enfield style & sulking & flicking the v’s up at her behind my hospital curtain. (Demonstrating my maturity on so many levels 🙄)

So to summarise, although I loved being at home with the mini’s, the ‘rents, the dog & definitely not forgetting the hubby who should be commended for holding it all together (& then some) offering me a safe haven, letting me blub ridicously all over him, even if I leave Alice Cooper style eyeliner streaks on his shirt shoulders. (He definitely needs nominating for some kind of award!) despite all the happy pics (which I cherish inordinately) yesterday was a hard day…

Back on the ward, I was snotty, and sniffly, and having a little pitty party for one in my pj’s with extra prn & a good old chin wag with the the lovely staff who didn’t offer platitudes but did provide cups of tea, extra meds & reassurance by the truck load

Guess it’s time to get back on the rollercoaster & shout “wheeeeeeee” ear splittingly loudly….

A demain…. 😘


Jelly tot consuming Mother of 4 kids, 1 cat, 2 dogs. Wife/leader in chief of our tribe. Autistic & medically complex kids keeping us entertained, on our toes & never bored...lover of all things sparkly, handbags & shoes. Proud to be a “difficult parent” in the world of SEND


  1. Oh yes, our lives are more edited than ever now. I have to make a conscious effort to share the real and not just the positive. And I’m grand mistress at hiding my hurt behind an amusing quip, which is enough to completely fool most people. I’m glad you had the time at home, I’m glad you got through the difficulties it brought so you could enjoy the positives too. And I love the photo. Keep taking each day, each hour as it comes. Much love xx


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