Terrible Two’s Time……

I had totally forgotten this stage. You know the one were your cute little baby suddenly morphs into some kind of irrational dictator?

Eldest let me off entirely lightly with the tantrums. I still remember the two times he had one. Mainly because one of them focused purely on me having the audacity to enter the living room when, according to him, “you stay in the kitchen!”. Sexist much? I now realise however that he has always struggled with expressing certain emotions. He has more tantrums now through frustration than he ever did when younger.

Middle had a delayed reaction to the terrible twos and decided to embrace them precisely at the moment he was turning three. He would throw utter fits anytime we left soft play, the shop or any other establishment he was enamoured with at the time. It got to the stage where I would just say “that’s fine then. I’m going home. If you want to act that way, you stay here”. I would then waltz away expecting him to get up in a panic and run after me. He never did and instead lay on the floor until I had to forcibly remove him. Never underestimate Middle, as I always extol.

Baby is my only one who gets jealous. I don’t even understand why as he actually gets the most attention out of all them (especially as I spend most of my time getting him yoghurts and cleaning him up afterwards). Even Eldest cuddles and kisses him which is primarily an honour reserved for me only. But if any of them dares to mention the word ‘cuddle’ or ‘kiss’, he is straight over to me like someone has just shouted: “Tesco just got more hand sanitiser in!”. So the dramatics were always apparent and I really should have thought I would be in for trouble. I just didn’t factor in how much. This weekend alone he has gone off on an almighty wobbler for the following reasons:

  1. I dared to make him hold my hand when crossing a road. So infuriated did he get, he threw himself down in a rage and into a massive puddle. He then proceeded to get more raging because his clothes were “wet”.
  2. I refused to let him bring three teddies out with him. Looking after three boys is stressful enough without having the extra responsibility of Peppa (f ing) Pig, Mickey Mouse and Nelly the elephant! So outraged was he, he deployed the stiff as a board act whilst I tried to put him in his car seat. I’m sure most of you ladies are familiar with this one. It’s as big a fight as trying to get a Conservative MP onto Good Morning Britain to placate the nation.
  3. I had the sheer nerve to ask him if he wanted a banana. When he said yes and I handed him said banana, he then decided he didn’t want one and went into a kicking and screaming fest on the kitchen floor. This mama left him to it.
  4. I opened his yoghurt lid halfway to make it easier for him. What a savagely cruel person I am.
  5. I put him in the bath. Pretty sure the neighbours thought some kind of murder was occurring the way he was getting on.
  6. I confiscated half my cutlery drawer off him that he somehow thought was acceptable to walk around brandishing. This caused a breakdown of Britney proportions (I can say that as I’ve been there, minus the hair shaving).
  7. He asked for “uce” (juice) and when I dutifully adhered to his request, he then decided he wanted “mulk” (milk) instead. Cue him flinging said juice on the floor, the cup then opening and my floors becoming a sea of diluted orange.

So I hope I have prepared/reminded some of you of what lies ahead or what you have finally escaped from. I mean, he’s still cute and all that but dear god he is driving me bonkers. Someone keep the hair clippers out of my reach….

Mourning Mad Molly

In advance of Monday, after something amazing happened last week and plans had to change, I am posting this now. I know come Monday that I won’t want to face this nor be reminded.

Today we lost the only other girl in our family. A girl that has been by my side for nearly fourteen years now. A girl that made singledom bearable for me (even when she was having more sex than me, what with all the pillows she was humping!).

I will never forget the day I went to pick you up. I had been very thorough in my research. Every article said ‘look out for the puppy that has the most confidence as they are the leader of the pack’. The minute I walked in you swanned right up to me, bold as brass. I mean, I probably should have noticed that your mother had a propensity for serious barking at the time but, I was already in love with you.

We went through so many things together in the transpiring years. Break up’s with boys, me sobbing furiously into your fur on the sofa. Even the time I came home drunk and tried to make you dance to Jay Z with me (that was auntie Jess’s fault, or was it the cocktails?). At no stage did you treat me like a mentalist. At every stage you provided endless affection to me. Even at times when I felt no one else ever would. Then, I met the hubby. You fell more in love with him than possibly me! We spent long summers with you roaming about fields, you off the lead, never ever managing to burn off the endless energy you seemed to possess.

Then the kids came. You loved eldest from the moment you set eyes on him. Even if his weird ninja moves in the moses basket scared the daylights out of you to begin with! You were patient with him, even when he pulled your tail or tried to mount you like a horse. Middle you never warmed to. A fact that greatly bothered me. At one stage I worried you might attack him. But, you never would have. I get that now. You just realised that now I would have even less time for you. You always were smart. I did have less time.

One day you got sick. You were fine and the next you weren’t. I still will never understand how it happened so quickly. We tried everything we could. At a cost that we couldn’t even afford. We just wanted to make you our Mad Mols again. But, it was to no avail. I decided that you should be buried under the cherry blossom tree. The only pink in my world of blue. Every time I look at it in bloom, I will think of you and my boys- my favourite things in the world.

You may have humped pillows like mad, despite being done. You may have had an abundance of energy that no one could ever quite deplete but, you were the best horniest, energetic dog in the world! We must also not forget the fact that, when eldest was born, you received an ASBO because I couldn’t go out to get you as quickly when you barked. But, in some parts, that’s a badge of honour! I love you to the moon and back Molly. Your madness actually prepared me for being a mum to boys. Someone up there was looking out for me. Rest easy old girlie. I miss you so much already xoxoxo

Boisterous Boys and Balling Baby

This week the boy’s started full on ‘boy fighting’. Previously their fighting amounted to jumping off the sofa onto each other, throwing pillows at one another and the occasional pushing episode. As much as the trampoline we purchased has managed to keep them out of my hair for a bit, it’s also created the perfect environment for them to lamp shades out of each other whilst in a confined space.

Yesterday they went out on it and I stood observing eldest and middle rugby tackling each other, full scale jumping from one end, straight on top of the other and, even punching. I shouted repeatedly, only to be ignored. They were too fired up. Meanwhile baby happily bounced away on his bum, occasionally throwing the odd slap in their direction. ‘You are such a great fighter!’ eldest was saying to middle. ‘You are so good at fighting that, if you get me one more time, I will give you £2’. Middle gladly accepted the challenge and I went inside for a second. No sooner had I turned my back, eldest was in crying hysterically that middle had ‘really hurt him’. I cuddled him, then pointed out ‘you did tell him he was a good fighter son and offered him money if he got you again. What did you expect?’. Middle as usual gave zero f’s and was still bouncing away oblivious to what he had just inflicted.

Speaking of £2, eldest’s homework this week stated that he was learning about money and, as parents, we should ‘let them look at the money we had in our purse or wallet and talk about the value of each’. Eldest’s eyes lit up. I on the other hand recoiled. There was no way on earth I was letting him at my purse after him gladly emptying his money box the other day and having more money than me. Namely because he had acquired his wealth from me in the form of going through my purse. I kept wondering where on earth all my pound coins were disappearing to. I don’t know whether to be proud that he managed to do it without me seeing or, worried. But at least I know where to go for a loan.

Baby is growing more needy by the day. He has started following me everywhere and crying if I even leave a room. This has resulted in my having to lug him everywhere whilst trying to do a million things. A few weeks ago he took his first steps but has still not fully taken off. I’m not sure what else I can do to encourage him. He just doesn’t seem interested and gets around quite happily with his one handed crawling. His speech is amazing however and he is saying lots of new words. This week ‘peppa’, ‘go’ ‘ha ha’ and ‘book’. Maybe I will regret ever willing him to walk when he is dandering after me from room to room wailing in my ear. That will make three of them then. Help me!

School Shenanigans , Sun and Not Much Fun….

This week began with eldest returning home from school on Monday with a note advising that his class would be putting on a talent show. The letter asked that any child with a discernible talent put themselves forward to perform. ‘ Do you have a talent you would like to showcase to all your class mates?’ I asked eldest eagerly, full of hopes of dreams. ‘No, I don’t have a talent mum, anyways it sounds sooooo stupid!’ he replied. ‘Everyone has a talent, think of something you are good at’ I implored. He pondered for awhile then confidently answered ‘I am really good at farting in people’s faces’. Give me strength! Safe to say he didn’t partake and observed instead.

Later that evening the P1 mum’s WhatsApp group was going into meltdown. ‘What do they have to wear tomorrow for the trip?’. ‘Um, what trip?’ I sheepishly sent. ‘The farm trip, I think they need wellies’. FML I had completely forgotten that he was going on that. I cannot keep up with the constant letters advising of colour runs (next Friday), sports day (the following Friday) and summer fair (the Saturday after). I’m beginning to think it’s better if the kids are tattooed with each date for the diary at the start of the year, thus ensuring no one can forget. It’s only a bit of ink. Between these dates and all the bloody birthday parties I have to remember. Aw the social life of a five year old! Maybe I’m just jealous?

Middle is his usual, laid back self. His latest thing this week is telling me when I shout at him to stop or  ‘you will never see me ever again’. Not sure if that’s a threat, sounds like quite the offer to me. Another new one is taking off his trousers and pants, jumping repeatedly on the trampoline and screaming ‘girls, girls’ at the ones next door like some kind of walking hormone. I keep having to speed out and redress him before the little girls are permanently traumatised. The sun is fun until these sort of things occur then it’s just plain stressful. He did get a full time pre school place which I was totally shocked about. I’m not complaining however. I just hope they know what they’ve let themselves in for. Hopefully he manages to keep his clothes on until the settling in period is over at least.

Baby has finally taken a few unaided steps. Praise the lord!! He has also been throwing some almighty tantrums which seems a bit early to me. Maybe he is just giving me a glimpse into how severe the two year old ones will be. I dyed my hair dark at the weekend as was so sick of dealing with the roots. Being blonde, broke and having kids is not a good combination. He took one look at me and burst into tears petrified. He didn’t realise it was me. Not only this but he refused to come near me for a whole day. Maybe I’m onto something there….. **stocks up on varying shades of all hair dyes**.

Book Review- Reader, I Married Me! By Sophie Tanner

As all of you know, it’s been a stressful few weeks. A seriously ill dog that’s peeing everywhere, the usual chaos with the three boy’s and even a job interview to prepare for with all that going on! That’s why I was so happy to have been sent a book to read, to take my mind off the stresses. It’s tagline, ‘be the hero of your own story’, intrigued me and resonated with how I’ve been feeing about life in general lately.

Reader, I Married Me, centres around Chole, her colleagues, friends and family. She’s thirty five and finds herself suddenly single. As if this wasn’t s#it enough, her work life isn’t faring much better. Becoming increasingly fed up and, after a few too many gin’s, she declares that she will marry herself. I mean, why not? No nagging men, no one to have to wrestle the remote control off and, a great excuse for a party! Her journey to achieve this will have you laughing and cringing in equal measure. As will the many colourful characters Chole is surrounded by. You’ve got the obligatory gay best friend, the mum who is slightly bonkers and the back stabbing work colleague. What could possibly go wrong? There are also lots of mum characters, drowning under the pressure of motherhood. We can all relate to that right?

I found the book so easy to read and very uplifting. It gave me hope that sometimes you can be at your lowest ebb but, things ultimately happen for a reason. You just don’t realise at the time you are going through it. I especially loved the setting of the book- Brighton. The beaches, the surfers and the gay scene! So, if you are looking for some inspiration, with a dollop of humour, get yourself a copy now! I have a little Q & A with Sophie coming up too so, get reading 🙂

Reader, I Married Me! by Sophie Tanner is available in Kindle format now (priced at £1.99) and you can pre order it in paperback also: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Reader-Married-Me-Sophie-Tanner-ebook/dp/B07B7S8Q1P/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=Reader+I+Married+Me&qid=1553451565&s=gateway&sr=8-1 Let me know what you guy’s think!

 

 

The Job Interview

Today I went for a job interview. My first formal interview since 2009. EEK! Although I may have successfully passed this interview, I managed to drink a whole jug of water (a jug that was supposed to serve the whole room) whilst buying time. I also spent the whole time talking about ‘having’ relationships with colleagues as opposed  to ‘building’ relationships with colleagues. This is taking ‘teamwork’ slightly too far I think.

Trying to even complete the application form with three kid’s took a long time. But, I got it sent off and forgot all about it. A month went by and still no word. Until the postman delivered me a letter that invited me to attend an interview the following week. Cue immediate panic. Take a deep breath and decide to worry about it later. Get to the week in question and am so physically exhausted as youngest has decided to revert back to babydom and drink his weight in milk on numerous occasions throughout the night. It’s ok, I’ve got this. Ship them all out for one day and spend it working on prep questions. Try to revise said questions whilst constantly emptying potty’s, changing explosions due to teething and getting eldest all the snacks he demands.

Interview is at 10:45am. Get up at 5am purely to prepare and go over my answers. Middle and eldest stroll downstairs at 5:30 demanding breakfast. Leave what I am doing to go get them breakfast. Think to myself where is hubby? Spend the next few hours dipping and diving into learning my answers all whilst looking after two kids. Go get a shower in an attempt to look presentable all whilst youngest crawls all over me. He lifts all my make up as he does so, attempting to throw it down the stairs from the landing. Think to myself if there is a God, please give me strength.

Get to interview location fifteen minutes early. Consider sitting in my car whilst slowly getting more and more nervous. Decide against this and go on in. Am left waiting for a considerable time as they are running behind. Contemplate running out the door as I am shaking so much with nerves and feel like I am underprepared for a Virgo. Finally I am called and the person apologises for being late. Stupidly decide to go all David Brent and reply ‘I was early as I am great at time keeping’ whilst doing some kind of weird pointing thing. Immediately realise that this basically implies their time keeping is awful. Die a little inside.

Get to interview room and quickly establish there will be four of them interviewing me, one of whom is wearing a dog collar and seems to be some kind of minister. I’m told I have fifteen minutes to answer three questions. They ask them and, I answer with a quivering voice. Halfway through, one of the interviewees winks at me and does the thumbs up. He must have been feeling sorry for me or something. Wink back at him only to realise the minister is now looking at me like I am some kind of sex pest who goes to interviews purely to solicit older men.

Leave interview and am so nervous that I walk past a full car park where my car is. Get into car finally and proceed to try and drive in my high heels. Big mistake as had driven there with flats on. Near crash car. Get home to boys and have never felt happier to not have to speak in grammatically correct sentences. Tell them I’m doing it for them. Think of how hard it’s taken me to prep and wonder do businesses ever take into consideration how hard it is to do all this with young children. Hope for the best…..

 

World Book Day- 7th March 19

I’m not going to lie, we love books in this house. Although I’ve been mega lazy with baby, middle and eldest get read to all the time. Reading to them is so important in order to build up their vocabulary and get them talking (as I found out with middle). Having said that, this (tis, if I can go all English Literature) is my first experience of ‘World Book Day’. Woah, way to add to my growing to do list- thanks! I had managed to store it in the ‘worry about that later’ part of my brain but alas, it has caught up with me. Why can’t they just bring their favourite book on this day and all read each others? I am so copyrighting that idea.

Eldest’s school has decided to go all rebel and put a ‘slant’ on the theme and, he must dress as a ‘word’. I could give them two upon reading the email they sent (will let you all guess!). Slowing reaching a level of panic and, not having any time at all, I suggested ‘school’ to hubby and explained how he would just go as normal. Apparently, that is a lazy effort. Personally, I think it is both hilarious and genius at the same time. No one will be as lazy to do that surely? Having been royally shot down, I then suggested ‘darkness’ and explained that he could go to school dressed in all black. Apparently, this too is lazy.

I’m all for encouraging reading at every opportunity but, after speaking to fellow mums at the gate, I sense this whole day creates a whole lot of unnecessary pressure. Everyone wants their kid to represent the cleverest character or, in my case, word. I’m very much my dad’s daughter in this respect as, at Halloween, when I was little, he cut out a triangle from a cereal box, put it around my neck, and told me to tell my whole GB class that I was ‘the Bermuda Triangle’. Embarrassing at the time but, utterly genius in retrospect. No matter what effort other parents had gone to, I still won. Simplicity or laziness, that is debatable. I know I felt like a right k#ob but, then I saw everyone laughing and I knew it wasn’t a bad thing (kind of). So, ladies hit me with ideas for words or tell me what your little ones will be dressing up as!

 

The one were, once again, my kid’s make an arse out of me at the cinema!

I have been so ill this week after starting new tablets. Really tired and not quite with it. But, half term stops for no one! With the end in sight, my sister suggested going to the cinema to see the new Lego movie. Baby hasn’t been too well so he would stay at home whilst I took the other two, and, my friend’s gorgeous little boy. We would be heading to the cinema of which eldest let me down a bucketful at not so long ago: https://youandmeplusthree.uk/2018/07/26/this-week-i-have-mainly-been-potty-training-middle-and-being-let-down-by-eldest-again/ I draw your attention to this utterly embarrassing post!! It would be ok surely? The same guy wouldn’t be working.

On the way to pick up my friend’s little one, out of nowhere, middle projectile vomits all over himself and, his car seat. Call wonderful friend who knows the score and leaves me out a change of clothes for him and a flannel. Middle redressed and, all kid’s loaded, off we go. Get to cinema, no more barfing and boy from before not working- winning!!! Twenty minutes into movie however and middle has thrown up again. Run like Mo Farrah all the way to the bathroom with him, catching barf in my hands as I go. This is not the finest moment in my whole life, like ever! A fellow cinemagoer takes pity on me and helps me clean him up. I explain what row we are sitting in and she says she will get someone to clean his seat up. Wiped clean, as much that we can, we head back. Someone is on his knees cleaning up middle’s inner spewings from the floor. Who is it? Yes, the same boy who had to listen to eldest’s quips of ‘doctor shoved finger up mummy’s bum’. Someone save me from this hell! Bad things always happen at this cinema, I’m convinced. Alas, it wasn’t over yet. Middle had two more vomiting escapades to administer. In the end, I had to leave the others with my sister and bring him home. “Where my popcorn?” he asked when strapped into the car to go home. Um, caked over both of us son!! I left him home then had to go back to get the others.

It is now 7 pm and,  as I write, he can’t keep even water down. He has fallen asleep on the sofa only to roll off it at one stage. Today is not his day! We are obviously all going to get it also. Thanks, sis! The weekend from hell beckons and I am almost certain I am now totally banned from that cinema. Can someone send help or wine please? Thanks!

This week I’ve mainly been…. driven bonkers by kid’s and sick doggies!

So it was eldest’s parent-teacher interview yesterday. His second to be exact. I have never been so nervous. Mainly because they never tell you anything and, I quote, ‘why are you always asking me how my day was? It’s so annoying’. Oh, so very sorry son! His last one had been rather embarrassing as I had to sit there whilst his teacher informed me that he spent most day’s glueing his artwork to his face. This made perfect sense when she said it as, I had been wondering why he was covered in marker and Pritt Stick most days. Hubby had to go alone as I had to look after all the kids and the dog needed to be picked up from the vets. Lo and behold, it was all good news. What?! I know I should have been happy but I was also rather suspicious. I mean, I observe him most mornings, before the bell rings, chasing after other boys and knocking lamps out of them. Anyway, beggars can’t be choosers, I will take good news when it is available. His numeracy skills are on fire and his reading is getting there. The only negative thing the teacher had to say was that he is too lazy to push his chair in when vacating it and, she has tripped over multiple times. But I assume she can go on Claim’s Direct or something so, positives all around! His school hosted a ‘Funky Friday’ theme today also and I found myself spraying his hair green out the back at 8am whilst putting sweatbands all over him (see pic). He loved the sweatbands abit too much and has asked can he wear them to bed. Okay then.

Middle is being a complete disaster. His speech has come on tenfold this last month alone and, so has his unique way with vocabulary and voicing his honesty. He is calling everyone in nursery ‘stupid’ and ‘poo poo face’ and is not one bit ashamed either despite the punishments. He even said it to a line of P3 boys when we were on the school run this week. One of them turned to me, rather incensed and said, “what did he just call me?”. I had to then explain that it’s almost like a compliment from middle as he calls me it all the time. He was not placated and still looked appalled, as did I. Worst thing is, when I ask whom he learnt that off, he is saying mummy! I can assure you that this is not the case. I have never used the term ‘poo poo face’ nor called anyone other than myself ‘stupid’.

Baby is still one legged crawling (lazy) and pulling himself up on things when he can be bothered. He now spends all day shouting “dada” “nana” and even “momo” (the dog) yet has said “mama” a few times only- rude! His favourite thing now is to go into my bottom, kitchen drawer, lift out all the pans and scrape them across the tiles. Usually the second I have started a phone conversation. Maybe he has ambitions to join the cast of Stomp one day but. for now, the sound is haunting me even at night.

The dog has now taken over middles pre-potty training mantra and has spent the last few weeks christening my floor with an abundance of urine. So I am now back to buying bleach in bulk. Having been told it was probably old age, I didn’t think much of it. That was until she started drinking bowls upon bowls of water these past few weeks. I actually thought I was going mad and had just imagined I’d filled it up! Sometimes I can’t remember what all I’ve done in a day as I am always on a mission of some sort. Off to the vets she went and, she has diabetes. We must now inject her twice a day. This has added to the insanity as, after giving it the big I am, it appears that I am an utter wuss. I keep needing to vomit upon even going near her with the needle. I thought I was over my fear of them after all the blood tests with the kids. Obviously not. She has been back and forth now and they still can’t stabilise her. Her weight is awful because of this, despite eating twice as much a day and I’m now faced with having to explain mortality to eldest which has been very difficult due to his sensitive nature. The vet’s bills are pouring in and, despite paying £25 a month, we have to pay 20% off all costs. Please check your pet insurance as mine was £11 when I took it out years ago and I’ve been so distracted that I hadn’t realised it had gone up that much. Argghhh!

 

 

Why It’s Time To Talk And End The Stigma Surrounding Mental Health!

Today is ‘time to talk day’ ladies. A day in which we should all be talking about mental health openly and honestly. After all, one in four of us will suffer from some kind of mental health problem and yet, there is still a shame attached to having these sorts of problems. Some of you may know and, others may not but, I have been quite honest about my own struggles with regards to mental health: https://youandmeplusthree.uk/2018/05/03/why-its-ok-not-to-be-ok/ I wrote this about my struggles with postnatal depression not so long ago. At first, I just put it down to the kid’s sending me absolutely batty but, it turns out it was much more than that.

After eldest, I suffered from postnatal depression. I didn’t realise this at the time however and just thought I was being overly emotional what with the lack of sleep and constant crying (him and me). I tried to let it slide for months, ignoring how I felt and making excuses for why I felt that way. I was tired, I was so busy, making bottles and changing nappies was so monotonous and, finally, I was just feeling this way now but it would eventually pass. Alas, it didn’t and I found myself on antidepressants for over six months. I told very few people. I was embarrassed and almost frightened that they would consider me a failure as a new mum.

With middle, I was wobbly afterwards. Not as bad as before but, also not great. His birth had been quite traumatising for me and he suffered badly from reflux and colic. There were days he would cry for four hours straight. My mum came to stay to help me one week as hubby was away in America with work. She left after two nights it was so bad! I found it very hard to bond with him, I’m not going to sugar coat it. I felt awful that I couldn’t make it better for him and viewed myself as a useless mother. The guilt I felt surrounding the lack of bond, made me extremely down and anxious. But, I got through it and came out the other end once he was on solids. Now he is a walking terror but, one that makes me laugh daily with his huge, gregarious personality. I still feel guilty to this day for feeling how I did when he was a baby. There’s the mum guilt again!

This time, with baby, was entirely different. I actually developed full-blown depression whilst pregnant with him. There were many reasons for this looking back. Mainly wondering how I would cope with three and the stress of looking after two other children whilst carrying what felt like a rhino in my tummy. When I gave birth, things got much worse. I didn’t even want to get out of bed most days. Which, is not an option at all when you have kids. Meeting friends filled me with dread and I retreated into myself. Motivation was not to be found and I didn’t even recognise myself any more. The feelings I had felt throughout his pregnancy came back to haunt me. How could I have thought those things? He was perfect and I was so in love! This quickly manifested itself in me becoming obsessed with every little thing that could be wrong. His weight, his eyes, oh my god- cradle cap! Basically, my anxiety was through the roof. I was placed on anti-depressants once again. These then had to be doubled as there was no change. Now I find myself having to wean myself off the ones I am on currently so they can be changed to another type. I’ve also attended counselling sessions and enrolled on a course that promises to boost my self-esteem and confidence. I am fighting against it with every part of me yet it still defeats me most days.

It’s time that we talk about our mental health to others and, especially, those who don’t understand it. How will they ever learn if we hide away from sharing how it affects us? No one wants to wake up each day feeling sad and hopeless. I’m also a firm believer that today’s society is causing more and more people to feel this way. We are expected, as women especially, to be all things to everyone. Wife, mother, cleaner, cook and worker. There are not enough hours in the day and it’s no wonder we are all feeling so overwhelmed. If you feel this way please talk to someone and don’t suffer alone. Even if you don’t suffer from mental health problems, make a point of speaking to someone who does. Ask them if they are ok over a cup of tea. Sometimes all we need is to feel supported and understood.