LuluSLR: Getting Dressed; originally published in July 2014

Take things day by day they say. Sometimes that can be a struggle. Taking things hour by hour also seems too difficult. I try to deal with things as they come along and so today I thought I'd blog about my first thought when I wake:

Always: is it a weekend (no work, time with family and friends)? If not then I know I need to battle with myself to get out of bed.

I know everyone hates getting up. For me it isn't so much that I hate it it's more that I just cannot seem to do it as I know what lies ahead: another day.

If I get up I have to accept the fact I need to shower and get dressed, get Eliza up and dressed, drop her off and go to work, all before I can come home again to my place of "safety".

The task of what I am going to wear overwhelms me sometimes and I cannot get out of bed without having a clear plan of action. If a chosen garment isn't clean then my plan crumbles and so do I. Silly isn't it? How can something so small affect my day?

I get Eliza dressed everyday and most days this is simple. Apart from when she knows best and I have to argue the toss with her about what to wear. Sometime I give in and leave her to it. I cannot do that with me. I used to get my clothes out the night before but that has slipped. Maybe I need to do that again and I will be able to get out of bed with more ease.

Don't get me started on choosing clothes for going out in......

Comments

Mum's Got Cancer; Part Four

Can we ask just one thing of you:- Please stop asking me how Mum is. I know you mean well and you honestly do care; you want to know that she is ok: but we can't tell you that. In fact we are tired of having to repeat ourselves and remind ourselves that Mum isn't going to get better. That this is it. That we can't help her but can on;y make her comfortable. Maybe ask how I am, or if there is anything you can do, or just give us a hug. Maybe just squeeze our shoulder and don't say anyhting. If we want to talk, I promise, we will. Sometimes, like my Blog, it is cathartic. Other times it hurts in a way I cannot explain. The best thing to do is send a message, a text, an email, and if/when we feel like it we will respond. Forgive us if we see you are calling and cannot take your call. It is tiring, emotionally, to drag our way through a conversation we do not want to have. We know you care and we don't want to appear rude but...

London Calling

I am no longer based "in town" and I never thought I'd miss it. Yet every Wednesday when I am London bound I find myself looking forward to what I will be greeted by. It's not the hustle and bustle - the fast moving commuters and slow shuffling tourists. It's not the shops and bargains abound. It's the buildings, the Underground, the knowing smile you may get from a fellow passenger, or the sarcastic comment of a Tube driver. I love London and its diversity. I love that you can walk just a short distance and be greeted by a whole new world. I love that you can randomly bump into an old friend you haven't seen for years. Making our big world smaller every day. I love St Paul's how proud it stands in the heart of the City. The fact it has survived wars and still attracts throngs of people to it everyday. I love the pomp and circumstance of the City and its Idiosyncrasies. I love that the museums are free and that you can meander around beautifu...

Mum's Got Cancer; Part Eight

We have always been open and talked about death and funerals. I think one of the first things we spoke about after your diagnosis was about your funeral and the scattering of your ashes. Some people think it's macabre but I do it to prepare myself. The more I do now the less I HAVE to do later. We know your wishes and we have the addresses. I have your scatter tube and soon your order of service. I know what I will read and that Rachel won't be able to. But I don't want them; I want you. The promise of you, not forever, just for longer. Don't go yet Mum, please, stay a while x

My Blog Bubble

Search This Blog