out like a lamb?

or like three badass lambs with a serious attitude and a nasty bite perhaps?
(obviously that should be bad arse. A lamb can't be an ass. When will these Americans learn?)

Just for the record: as far as I know these particular lambs are perfectly lovely. Although they do look as though they've been up to no good...

March didn't come in like a lion and go out like a lamb. It came in like a sprained ankle and went out like a broken leg.


I'm writing this late on Monday night. Sunday/Easter Day wasn't a good day for me. After several nights of waking between 3 and 4am and lying awake getting wound up and watching it get light, I've been really tired. I don't know if the loss of sleep has caused the way I feel or if the way I feel has caused the loss of sleep. Both are perpetuating the other now I suspect, but I don't know how it started.

We had a lovely hour-long walk in the morning with Tess and the dog, before Richard had to go to work and face the potential Easter hoards. Although it was sunny and bright and I felt I'd had a good stomp, I couldn't shake off overwhelming feelings of panic, chaos, powerlessness and loss of control.

I've felt rattled, complicated and unable to fully function. I'm mistiming things, misjudging things; little things are going wrong again and again until I feel like exploding at the sheer frustration and, well, the bullying of life. It's like slipping on banana skins again and again and again until it's not funny and it's not simple mishaps anymore, it's relentless cock-ups.
I gave up on the idea of making a Simnel cake - I knew it would go wrong somehow. Instead I kept busy and tried to keep things simple and fought against the desire to scream or cry.

I haven't felt this low or not in control of my own feelings for years. Constantly battling against some grim force is something I struggled with before but never shared with anyone or wrote down. I'd forgotten how sad and put upon it makes me feel. It's like being picked on, having my life sabotaged, having things I know I can do suddenly become impossible... I'd say it was like being visited by invisible, trouble-making pixies, but it's not even that. There's nothing to put my finger on, no one and no thing to blame, just a crapness.
I kept telling myself, "This isn't you. You can do this." I put on music, stayed away from the news and the Internet. Tried to keep conversation light and cheerful, but I couldn't help thinking, "Crap. That's gone wrong and now that," and "Why is this happening to me?" I slowly felt myself disintegrate throughout the day and refused to give in until I found myself in the kitchen with tears coursing down my face and feelings that my family would be better off without me. I was blaming myself for everything and decided I was the cause of everything that was wrong.

The saddest thing is that in the past I thought it was me. I really did think I was a terrible person and was making my family's life a misery. I thought I had a bad personality - I couldn't see why else I was so cross all the time. That was a time when I was incredibly tired too.

Now I accept that something happens that makes me not able to function as well as I'd like, that makes me feel overwhelmed and useless, and I try not to beat myself up about it. But that's not easy because it seems that beating myself up is part and parcel of the cycle. Periods of disliking yourself intensely and feeling purposeless are the absolute pits.

I guess it's a form of depression and it's not been easy for me to accept that because it feels like a weakness or a fault. But at least it comes and goes like the weather and doesn't hang around all day every day like the anxiety.


Anxiety, lack of sleep, and depression all together - sheesh they are three badass lambs.