I’m not okay



Big C and myself went to Spain for three nights for a little break; mainly as Big C deserves to not be stuck at home all the time. It was amazing and we had such a great time. We came home last week and I tested positive for covid the day we got home. So it’s been 4 days and I’m feeling loads better, but I’ve fallen into a horrible depression. I’ve shut myself away in Little C’s bedroom for the last few days (he won’t come near me anyway as he’s scared of germs - especially covid germs). 


As much as I loved our two days in Spain I felt such awful envy at all the families there, enjoying their time together. Seeing little kids on the beach, making new friends and splashing in the sea. I just wanted Little C and his dad to be there with us. I felt guilty that we had come away without them. But even the airport made me realise that my dream of us all going abroad next year could never happen. Unless we had a private jet and flew from the field at the back of our house. 


Coming home is like a harsh crash back to reality and I can feel anger bubbling in me that Little C’s hair is long and filthy and he is still refusing a bath or hair cut. His front tooth is chipped and turning a funny colour and I’m again worrying about the future if he’s this bad with hygiene at 6 years old. Little C’s dad must be exhausted. I don’t know how he has coped whilst I’ve been away and then having to carry on whilst I’ve had covid. We have barely said two words to each other - no showing him our photos and telling him about the hotel or food. Little C won’t let us speak. He’s angry that now he has to share his dads attention after three days of just the two of them. Makes me think I’d have been better not coming home. That’s so awful to admit. So now I’m wracked with guilt too on top of everything else.


Schools are breaking up but for Little C the holidays are no different to any other day. No last day, or class party or play dates for the holidays. The only places we can go are places we can walk to. No days out at a farm or the zoo. This car phobia really is the worst. We are so stuck and isolated. The days at home are so long when I can’t get him out of the house.


Trying so hard to be grateful for what we have and to stop comparing our family life with other peoples. Everything just feels a bit bleak. I’m dreading winter already and Summer isn’t even over yet. I’m tired too (covid probably not helping). I’ll drag myself out of this hole. I always do. It’s just a tough one this.




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