My world is so small!

This article is inspired by the train journey I am on right now. I'm 25 minutes away from Paddington Station; can I express my thoughts to you in this time?

I realised yesterday, that this will be my first weekend away without my children or husband. So the last time I did something like this was over 9 years ago! How can that be? What have I been doing? I haven't been stuck at home all this time. I've been on holidays, visited friends, been on days out, beach walks, camper van adventures etc. But my world has grown so much smaller since the birth of my daughter. I imagined I would be one of those parents, that many of you are, who carry on with adventures, baby strapped safely in a sling, off exploring the world and living life together with their children. I saw one of you today at the train station. You had your 2 year old boy with you, rucksack on your back, your son carrying a backpack with toys for the journey. My pre-parent self would have recognised you "That will be me when I am mother" I would have thought. So the realisation that that isn't me came as a shock. Not a sudden blow but a slow realisation, especially once my second child was born, that the world I could cope with was small, minute in fact, just 'popping' to the nearest city a mere 11 miles away became a massive day out revolving around feeds and nappy changes. So a day's shopping may only have equated to visiting a couple of shops. Slowly, I gave up, I stuck close by to home, venturing to a few nearby places.

Now to look at me, everything was fine. I had loads of friends (mainly new ones I met through antenatal classes or new mum groups). I was out most days, chattering, socialising and appearing happy with my life. To be fair, I did love this unexpected social whirl I was part of and I was grateful for my children but daily life was hard. "Walking through treacle" a friend described it. This was me every day for a long time, possibly years. I thought this was normal. Every parent with small children is tired. I was tired too. Nothing unusual with that. But I was tired all the time on a good day. I felt overwhelmed by the smallest of tasks, every day. I felt unable to cope. Running out of milk was stressful, having to order a birthday present online consumed my mind and felt so difficult to achieve (that makes my head slightly ache thinking of it now as the memory reawakens in me). On a bad day my head hurt (a head ache lasted two days at a time), I felt dizzy and foggy. Friends advised me to go to the doctor. That was too much to deal with, so I didn't go.

Things did get slowly better for me. I am 9 years into parenthood and life isn't how it was. This wasn't a quick shift, as my children grew and started school it didn't all just naturally get better and it wasn't linear. I would be fine for a while and then not so good. Mental health is like that, we get good mental health days and bad mental health days just as our physical health fluctuates. What changed for me was three things. I realised how I was feeling was not OK, I shouldn't be feeling like this all the time. This realisation was due to an honest conversation with a friend (thank you) who suggested I might have been suffering from symptoms of depression. She was worried about my reaction as this is still, wrongly, a taboo thing to say. I recognised in myself what she was saying and this helped me to understand my feelings. She is not a doctor, so this is not a diagnosis but it made me realise things had not been right. I can't be sure what was causing my symptoms, it was probably a complex mix which included stress, anxiety and sleep deprivation along with a depressed mood. For me, it is not exactly important what was wrong it was the realisation that things weren't right and that felt, strangely, like a relief. I now understood this wasn't normal, I didn't have to just tolerate it as a part of parenthood and that things could change. Since that conversation (about 5 years ago) I have done two other things. I have learnt what I can and cannot cope with and I try to be firm and clear with these and so protect my mental health. I notice triggers in myself, by that I mean I can identify when my mood is slipping and I able to (often) do something to stop myself feeling worse. This self-knowledge has been a slow process.

Anyway back to today, my train is now nearing London, I have butterflies in my tummy and I am worried about managing the tube and the onward train. I'm a 41 year old woman who lived in London for 7 years who, in the past, would not think twice about using the Underground. Getting off the train at Paddington, I see the woman with the two year old again. Only now she has 2 large rucksacks on her back with a doll wedged between them. "Blimey, I'm pathetic!", I thought. She turns around and she has a baby strapped to her front. Wow! She was with her partner as well as her children, but still, here I am with sweaty palms, feeling sick with tears starting to prick my eyes! "I can't do this!" I think before taking a few deep breaths and start to turn these nerves into excitement. I am getting my confidence back, I have a spark, a fire in my belly. "Hi London, Sarah's back!!"

Why I am writing this? What am I trying to say? I think I am reaching out to those of you who are struggling. If this is you at the coal-face of parenthood, I am sending you solidarity. I'm saying I know it's hard but it will get better. However, if every day leaves you overwhelmed, if the fog isn't lifting ever, get some help. Talk about it, you don't have to got through this alone. Take up every useful offer of help and ask for help, be specific, your friends do want to help you, they just might not know what to do. See a doctor. If you have a friend with kids, look out for them, find out what specific things you can do to help. If you can see they are overwhelmed, maybe even book them the doctor's appointment.

As for me, I made it through the London Underground. I made it onto my train. Today London, tomorrow the world!