It’s been three months since I last cried. Three months. I’ve never ever gone this long without crying and it feels so wrong.
For the last three months I would say I’ve been in survival mode. You know how adrenaline kicks in when you’re expected to fight or flight? That’s how I’ve been living of late.
A newborn baby, sleep deprivation, keeping another three children happy and healthy, meeting the needs of my husband, cooking, cleaning and the general up keep that comes with raising four kids in an already cluttered house. I’ve barely had time to breathe, let alone cry, even though there’s been many a moment I’ve needed to.
But what comes with burying away my feelings, is frustration, anger, and a kind of numbness. Kind of like I’m not really feeling any emotion, like I’m an outsider looking in.
Last week, faced with the entire family getting gastro, and ending with a trip to the children’s hospital with our four year old unable to walk on his leg, I should have fallen apart. I’ve never been afraid to cry, in fact I quite like the release. But I didn’t. Not even when I’d gotten lost in the stupid hospital car park while pushing a pram and carrying said four year old. Not even when I got home and my husband was still vomiting. Not even when the baby was up for three hours straight in the middle of the night.
I didn’t shed a single tear.
I just kept going on. Like I have, for the last three months.
And I don’t want to live like that anymore.
Nobody benefits from me being tough all of the time. Especially not me.
I want to feel. I want to cry. Because I know once the dam walls burst, the flood waters will cascade out and relief will be there.
But the funny thing is, saying you want to cry, does not make the tears flow.
So I googled it.
I watched it.
And then I cried. And cried. And cried.
And I won’t be bottling it up ever again.
My kids need a strong mum, but they need a real mum more.