January has not been kind to our family. For the past 7 years it has greeted us with some kind of trauma.

Two years ago Shaun, Will and Harriet were all in hospital. And I had an 8 week old baby. My world was quite genuinely falling down around me. Which, I think, is why when Harriet ended up back in hospital last year I found it incredibly, soul destroyingly hard. Because I’d done my bit. I’d suffered enough. She’d suffered enough. We’d planned a holiday to Eurodisney, leaving on New Years Day. Sticking our fingers up at 2015. Going into 2016 strong. And by the 2nd we were in A&E back in London. For fucks sake. It felt like the universe was making a point. Like it was saying ‘who do you think you are? What makes you think you can celebrate? This is January my friend. January. Get back in your place’. 

So now it is January again. Predictably. And I am mental. Not like a bit down, or a bit worried. Bat shit off the chart crazy. We have gotten to day 10 and so far, so, far, we’re alright. And I think I’m fine. But then someone slips. Shaun is 2 minutes later than I expect him. A kid wobbles on the stairs. Someone says something aches. And I’m there. I’m freaking off the scale panicking. I can’t breathe. Tears are rolling down my cheeks. I’ve already envisioned how this is going to pan out. 

But then they get up or come home or are comforted with a biscuit and I feel like a fool. Like a crazy ass fool. Which makes me even more mental.

Because I am a logical person. A sensible person. I am not superstitious. I do not believe in fate or luck. I believe in hard work and strength and kindness. 

But January. January has been cruel. And so I have learnt to expect cruelness. 

I have blisters on my fingers. Stress. I have spots. Stress. I am running to much. To get away from stress. Drinking too much. Drowning stress. 

What can I do? 

This is post traumatic stress. Learned behaviour. Barriers. Protection. Fear. Panic. 

What can I do? 

Ride it out. Head down. Breathe. Swear. Talk. Run. Walk. Blog.

January has come again. But just as certainly it will leave. Hopefully with less scars. 


One thought on “January 

  1. January is a bitch. Sounds like especially so to you. We’re almost half way though and I think you’re going to be ok this year. Or at least okeyer than last years 😜

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