Me and my Gals……..

You know the last couple of years have been so tough on my gals. And so have I unfortunately. When you’re grieving, and they’re grieving, and no one is sleeping, or if they are sleeping it’s riddled with nightmares….. and crying….. so much bloody crying……. well, I guess maintaining niceties is not the easiest thing to do. Hence the girls decided to start a swear chart for me again yesterday….. (Yes, I had one once before, and I FAILED!) They have basically had an intervention, and told me I’m not to swear at them……. OUCH! I don’t mean it……. but between the melt downs and anxiety, the aggression and the abuse…. it gets really tough to not say FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This week alone we’ve had two psych appointments for the girls and one for me, a GP appointment to get a referral to the pediatrician, a pediatrician appointment to get a referral to a psychiatrist, tonight we start our support group counselling in Box Hill from 7-8.30, then we drive the hour to Mum and Dads,  stay over and get up in time to have a two hour assessment done on the three of us in Brunswick at ten. We have to sit behind a double sided mirror with one psychologist for an hour and a half answering all of her questions while five other psychologists take notes on all three of us from behind the mirror. Then we get to go in the other room and watch all six psychologists discuss us and some ways we can move forward! WTF? Ironically the kids are kind of excited to be able to then watch them….. so I guess that’s something. Pops and I were very recently diagnosed as having Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, so we need to find the right avenue to take to sort out our heads. But Rubes could sure use the help getting those emotions out anyway. So yeah, that’s where we’re at, two days into year three after losing the big guy….. I know we’re surrounded by people that think that we should be doing better….. coping more….. struggling less…… in some ways we are. But in others, well kids often don’t even believe their parent is really gone for up to two years…. and although you’d swear that they’d grieved the whole time, apparently it only gets tougher for them once they realise. It’s almost unbearable to think about, but whatever it takes we will do….. As much as they shit me on a daily basis, I’d kill to have their pain taken away. We shall keep wading through the emotional mess that is our lives at the moment….. I really do have to believe there is a light at the end of that tunnel. After all, what’s it all for otherwise?!! Thank God we have Disneyland in November. A welcome break from reality I’d say. Night all. xxxxx