It's been a while since my last post. I have had idle moments where I've contemplated writing, but instead I've washed up, watched some meaningless television, read or written controversial things on other people's Facebook posts (this took up a considerable amount of time!). At the back of my mind I was thinking- what's really going on here? I have been enjoying writing this blog and receiving such lovely feedback, why have I stalled writing?
Avoidance. I am the master of it. In this case, it is a strategy to protect myself. My head is in such a better place now, revisiting those earlier, darker times is getting harder for me. Looking back, I have no idea how I got through it. But I did. And I am. Thank God, or whoever, or whatever for that! My last post of when we arrived in Sydney was when things were well on the road to reaching their darkest and there are chunks of time of fear, of hopelessness, of despair, of anger, of guilt, of pure exhaustion, of suffering and of desperation. We are going back to Sydney on the 15th of this month for 10 days and I think I need to hold the story until we're back.
At the back of my mind is worry that returning to 'the scene of the crime', so to speak, will bring back all those feelings again. Not just for me, but for Anika as well. I have to remind myself that circumstances are so very different this time. Anika is 7 months older than she was when we originally visited and I not only have more experience under my belt, I have more sleep and the skills to help her through it if she does find it difficult. Plus my husband will be there. Anika is such a resilient, happy little munchkin, that I'm sure she'll breeze through it. And if she doesn't, I know that I can cope, as I've coped with much worse.
So thank you for your understanding and I hope to be writing again upon my return- after we've conquered some more of our past :)
Happy days! xo
P.S. Have I mentioned that my heart sings when my daughter wakes up in the morning, rolls over onto her belly, crawls on me and giggles whilst blowing raspberries on my cheek? There really is nothing like it- parenthood.
