It could be worse. {insert feel sorry for myself emoji}

 The last fortnight has really knocked me for six.

On top of a freezing start to the Melbourne winter here, I am just starting to feel human again from what I have self-diagnosed as a nasty virus.

With the start of head cold symptoms to excruciating pain all over the upper half of my body that I have never experienced before in my life, with only getting an hours sleep at night for a week {if I was lucky!} because of the pain, to the point that if someone rocked up to my house with any drug of choice, I would have kissed their feet at the front door ! Just to stop the pain.

I seriously would have.

That’s how bad if felt.

It’s been awhile since I’ve felt like that and the reason it rocked me about so much was the depression that hit me with it. Feeling useless and so unwell, sent me into a bit of an internal downward tunnel where I didn’t care whether I ate, bathed, communicated… nothing, and my usual optimistic self was non-existent.

 Gone. Zip. Nudda.

And it’s been a while since I really felt like that.

For sure, living with just men in my house {full of empathy, understanding, consideration, " oh mum, do you need anything?" " hun, can i get you a hot cup of lemon water?" – not!} and I lost my shit.

Where I screamed out to anyone that would listen that I was feeling awful.

Actually saying it out loud and having a cry made me feel a tiny bit better.

Throw in a nearly 12 year old boy who has been testing me to the limits with his reactions to everything, situations, changes, requests that confuse him,  and watching him trying to deal with his own outbursts, and needing to talk calmly to him while taking deep breathes myself {so I keep my cool}, because, Autism sucks sometimes.

But then we have a moment where he will give me a half cuddle and says, “I love you mum” as he jumps out of the car to catch the bus to school.

And we do this:

 

 

 

 

It could be worse.