Maybe it’s the change of seasons, maybe it’s the start of the new school year, and probably it’s just coincidence, but this really hasn’t been the best September on record.
For a start, my youngest started school. He’s been my saviour over the last few years because I’ve had to keep going for him. The older two have been at school but he’s been with me and his lovely, funny and loving personality has given me great strength. In fact, there have been many times over the last few years when I’ve thought that I could very happily live with him, just the two of us.
Of course I love my other two children as much as I love the youngest but he’s been so much easier to deal with and of course he’s been less affected by my husband’s behaviour because he’s been less aware of it.
Then, my husband’s grandmother has been very ill, and sadly she died last week, an obvious cause of distress to the family.
And finally, I’ve not been feeling well at all. Operation scheduled for the 11th October, to treat the endometriosis. I’ve also got cysts on my ovaries, so generally, I’ve felt better.
All this has conspired to make September hard bloody going. Husband’s mood has not been at all good and I’m starting to worry about his behaviour. He’s stopped his anti-anxiety meds now and there’s been a definite increase in his anxiety. He’s becoming very fixated on things, the current one is history and how we are only being told some things and other things are being kept from us. He spent hours watching an odd programme on how big corporations are destroying the planet. I mean, it went on for hours and hours.
Do I worry? Yes. Should I worry? I think I should. Is it wrong to be utterly fed up with there always being ‘something’ going on with him? No. I’m pretty sure I have the right to be fed up.