I’ve been here in spirit only for the last few weeks. Pining away for my blog like I used to pine for ex boyfriends; desperately wanting to tell them something but not being able to call them anymore. But nothing’s changed, my blog is still here. I could have written if I had wanted.

And I have written. There are snippets and essays and novels and doodles and stuff everywhere. It all remains unpublished though.

At the beginning of April, Beans was with the husband while I was far, far away at my parents. And then the husband felt poorly and I found myself offering to swoop in and rescue him, take the toddler away and allow him to rest and recuperate.

It was an out of body experience, before I realised what I was saying and what it meant Beans was here and the husband was there. What have I done?

My first day alone with her was terrifying. I scraped by piece by piece, hour by hour.

I just need to make it through to 9:30am.

I just need to make it through to 10:30am.

I just need to make it through to 11:30am.

…

I made it. I more than made it.

Since then, with intermittent visits from the husband Beans has stayed with me. Because I don’t want to let her go.

So why haven’t I blogged? I’ve been telling myself that it’s because I’m too busy, too tired, too focused on other things. While all of that is true, none are the real reason.

Truthfully, I don’t want to embarrass myself or jinx anything if I whisper that things have been ok only for them to rocket back into a downward spiral again.

Most importantly, for the first time I have been enjoying being a mummy. Savouring all the time I’ve spent with my nutty toddler and her kisses and cuddles and giggles and tantrums. Everything else has taken a backseat and all my energy has gone into pushing aside all my worries and negative thoughts, like a heavy velvet curtain, to let the light in.

I no longer see myself as that girl who has postnatal depression that got so bad she didn’t move for a week and thought that she was dying. I’m that girl who is fighting, recovering, living. Laughing. 

And that girl is back.