Sleep oh Sleep, where art though sleep!

Its been three weeks now and Im running on empty. I go to bed at a sensible time, following a nice bath, I dont eat before I go to bed. I have a cool room, and Im fairly relaxed. I read, nothing too thought provoking or taxing on my brain.

And I fall to sleep!

All well and good, yes!

No!

Somewhere between 1 and 1.30am I wake up. Im wide awake, not just sleepy awake that comes with needing the toilet or hearing a strange noise. Not even dream/flashback awake, recovering from burning again. But wide  awake. I stay wide awake till somewhere between 4.28 and 4.32, yes somewhere between those four crusical minutes my brain shuts down and Im asleep again.

Which would be great if Dylan didnt wake up between 5.45 and 6.30.

Im running on empty, Im crabby, Im resorting to drinking - although its not so much a resort as a way of living now. But Im making mistakes, stupid ones that impact on my daily life. Not being able to find the keys, that I had put in the door. Forgetting to call people back, or calling people back when I had just spoke to them. Or the best one by far, walking round the house all night being quiet so as not to wake Dylan and being able to assist my neighbour at night time because Dylan was in bed. Then going up stairs to say goodnight to him, and remembering that he was at my mum and dads.

Im going to make an appointment to see the Dr. Its not normal, its not how I want to be, I want a tablet! Several nights of tablets. I want to wake up with the Disney birds and butterflys chirping me awake! It used to be like that, why did it change?

Heaven

Just had a conversation with Dylan and his friend Michael about Heaven.

Apparently you go there when your dead. Right!

You can stay there for 100 weeks and then come back if your really good.

You meet your family who is deaded and only really angry people go to bad heaven!

Looks like I might be going to bad heaven!

Thanks Steven. Im so far away from this its like comparing chalk to cheese.

But it did make me laugh!

Tap, Tap, Tap

Hello the world.

This used to be something I did to try and figure stuff out. It used to be a way of venting and procrastinating and generally keeping in touch.

My counsellor says I should write things down, so I'm writing. It may not get better than this, but I am going to attempt to update the last 9 months, some will be diary entries I wrote in the hospital, some will be stuff I wrote since.....since the second fire, since hospitalisation, since depression, since getting better....

That's a lot to blog. But hopefully some of it will make sense.

Ahh the Summer Holiday.

They come round each year and each year we look at them with trepidation, joy and lets face it panic.

Six weeks of your child at home, six weeks of entertaining them, of cleaning up after them, attempting to appease fights "Im not your friend anymore" and ensuring that they still have a routine of sorts, eat well and dont drive you into crazy mummie screaching and threats of "Your grounded till Christmas".

We have had some lovely play dates, which generally ended with a very tired Dylan screaming that he hated who ever he was playing with and "I never want to see them again". Joy!

He has had friends from the estate in to play and wreak havoc on the house.

Sometimes its a joy and yes, sometimes it isn't.

We visited Shaun and Joji

and went to a farm - Walby Farm which was fun, especially getting lost in the Maize Maze.

We climbed hills

Chillaxed

and Rock Scrambled.

It was a lovely couple of days, but Dylan was wearisome and made things hard. Why doesnt he appreciate days out, or play dates. I question if he gets too much, are we spoiling him with love?

On our departure he wouldn't kiss Shaun and Joji goodbye, I knew this was really because he didn't want to say goodbye, but it made me so mad. He seemed so unappreciative of all that had been done for him, so rude! I found myself in the car reading him the riot act "There are lots of children who didn't get to go to a farm, or weren't taken out, you don't appreciate anything, that's it, next week you get nothing, no trips to the park, no friends over" - yadda, yadda.

He fell asleep, tears staining his face and I screamed at myself "He's Five"....

Its not getting better

Ive not written anything since I wrote my good bye list. It was simple to do, but since writing it Ive cried - yeah, finally cried, without alcohol, I cried in Bridies councelling session, snot streaming tear gasping crying.

But now I just get drunk, I've done a lot of that over the last couple of months. Silly drunk, angry drunk, bloody stupid dangerous drunk!

I'm snappish and angry, I want to scream at myself because I was doing so well and now I feel like I'm not. I feel like I'm drowning in my own self pity. Consumed by heat, I want to burn away to see what is left, who is left.

I told mum yesterday about looking at my burns and feeling repulsed. Repulsed at my own body. Not in a "god I'm fat", which I am, but in a "that makes me feel sick to look at, to touch!" We talked about her experience on the burns unit when she had her cancer, she seemed to get it, but then she looked at me with what seemed "Shame" in her eyes. "Shame" I'm not bigger and dealing with this better? Shame I cant get on with life and accept what I am, I don't know... but it was "Shame!"

Saying Goodbye.

Bridie has suggested that I write a list of all the things I lost in the fire, to say good bye, to mourn them. Its not definitive but

• George - ugly though you were, I loved you
• Letters from Keefe, Jayson, James, Darren - the ability to recall memories from these letters.
• Pictures and mementos from travelling
• Wedding photos, my dress, wedding file, cards, memorabilia of the day.
• Diaries from school
• Dylan's diary
• Records, tapes, CD's, DVDs Music that helped me define special times and memories
• Jamie's picture "on the beach"
• Jewellery - from travels, friends, my wedding rings, opals and pearls.
• Dylan's memory box, hair, hand prints, scan pictures
• Shane's boxes from Iraq.
• Things mum gave me from Nana and things from her which were supposed to be passed down and treasured.
• Skinny jeans - I've never found a pair that fit so well. My wedding shoes, the silly dress I wore to Bev's 40th Party, the memories it evoked.
• Christmas decorations, especially the ones for Dylan's first Christmas

The list could go on, the insurance claim is about 9 pages long to date, but its not the "stuff" that gets used daily, its the stuff that I looked at and it evoked a smile, a memory, a flash back to somewhere else, that isn't here and isn't now!

Tired

Down, Down, Down, I'm just sleeping now. Sing and Sign has finished. The term was hard, but I got through, found movement a problem at times but dredged up the energy to do the classes, limited though they have been and I got through.

There is stuff to do and I'm totally aware of loosing control of the little control I had, but I cant find the motivation to do. Dylan has gone away with Keefe and I'm on my own.

I'm really glad he has gone away, am I allowed to say that! He whines at me and I scream at him, he wants to play and I'm bored. He wakes at 5.30 am and I'm so bloody tired.

Tired, that sums me up. Tired of me, tired of life, tired of trying to be strong, happy, capable. I'm tired of being tired.

I'm just bloody tired of it all!