It's A Bed Day
By Meg

Today is a bed day.

This is one of those days when I know I am safe if I sleep.

It’s a day when the energy to unload the washing I started two days ago evades me, despite knowing there are no clean jumpers for school tomorrow.

This is a day when the pyjamas are spread around the lounge, last night’s washing remains littered around the kitchen. The curtains are closed.

It’s a Day to Hide Under the Covers

It’s a day when I hide under the covers wishing I had never made a stupid contract not to harm myself with my therapist.

I’m having a day where bed really is the only thing I can manage.

A day where I would love a friend to come and hold my hand, but I can’t reach out to anyone to do so.

I Feel Pain and Shame All at Once

Today is a day when I realise why my mother spent so much of my childhood in bed.

I fear my children will grow up with the same feeling of abandonment that I did.

I feel pain, shame and loss all at once.

This is a day my husband will carefully check to see that I am still breathing when he comes in. Just in case.

Today is a bed day.

It Isn’t a Lazy Day

It isn’t a lazy day, and it isn’t a fun PJ day watching TV under a blanket. This is a day when taking the children to school almost kills you, and when you both long for and actively avoid company.

It’s a day that feels endless, and full of wasted opportunities. This is a day where you just cannot function, and where you grieve for your capable self. A day where you feel so, so alone, and so, so overwhelmed.

Please Don’t Be Offended

If I am having a bed day please don’t be offended, and please don’t judge the state of my house or the joggers I wear on the day’s school run.

If you are a friend who’s ever seen me in my pyjamas or visited the hospital, I probably love you enough to have you offer to hold my hand today.  I need you to throw tissues my way and love me until today passes.

Because today is a bed day.

Reproduced with permission, originally published here.


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