I woke up this morning with a frown on my face. Seriously. Don’t ask me what I was dreaming. I don’t remember. I’m frowning still as I write this. My heart is clenched and I am seriously not in that relaxed joyful place I’m meant to be. I’ve tried laughing at myself, laughing at the unconscious state that’s choosing this. Nothing works. I’m wired up in a ring of DNA drizzling depression.

Drizzling depression. Yes you heard me right. It’s not a deep, debilitating, I can’t sleep depression. It’s more like a haze of unhappiness, sadness or dissatisfaction lurking behind somewhere waiting to rain down as things don’t go well. It’s hard to define but it’s there at times just like the rain that’s falling outside my window as I write this.

It goes away easily. Like today as I looked up at the rainbow rings around the sun. I smiled in childish delight. It was like magic and it made me feel that Johannesburg is part of this naturally, beautiful world. (I loved the reason for the rainbow being – venus was circling between the sun and the moon, but alas it isn’t true. It was just ice crystals! Which is amazing enough I suppose.) My dark shadow makes way for the sunlight as I sit at my computer and happily type away on my writing projects. So it’s not an endless black hole at all.

Maybe drizzling depression is survival mode. Like surviving the morning ‘get up and go to school’ ordeal where the Princes decided not to listen as usual whilst Mummy split her lungs open (I didn’t really but I wanted to. I did threaten to leave without them and began driving down the driveway.) It’s one of those days where by 7.42 pm I’m ready to throw in the towel. I feel like I’m failing as a mother on so many levels. And I’m sooooo tired of the incessant nagging (me) and whining (Prince – I won’t tell you which one). Where everything from getting dressed to not bashing up their brother is a FIGHT.

I should probably take up boxing so that at least I can punch somebody. I just don’t have the energy and therein lies the depression. Louise Hay says that the healing thought for depression is ‘I create my own life’. I love that sentence. Even as I type it, it lifts me. Offers me that loving hand of hope. That next breath which breathes life into my body that’s fraught with tension and frustration. (A massage is way in order – how about a mother’s right to massage discounts!)

As a mother (and I won’t say mothers – because I’m not sure how mothers out there feel – for those of you who are always happy you can go to the ‘perfect mother’s blog’. Oh it doesn’t exist – I wonder why?) I sometimes feel that I’m STUCK. Who else is going to do my job if I decide to get a 9-5 job, and at the end of the day I’ll still have to organise the au pair, and deal with being a mum when I come home. It’s hard and it’s 24 hours. Saying any different is being in denial. (And mothers and denial is a whole very important other topic.)

However ‘I create my own life’. This means I take responsibility and once I accept reality rather than wishing it away (which I indulge way to much time in) I can be present, proactive and create my own life. So for example as it stands at the moment my Prince is not listening at home. That’s very, very real.  So I need to put some structures into place to contain my little, disorderly Prince in a positive, building way (who is at this very moment wailing at my sweet, dear husband who is putting him to bed). It’s possible I’ve done it before (believe it or not) And I will outline it in another blog just in case other mothers are knocking their heads against the wall with their child raising. (I went to a play therapist last year for parental guidance and it worked a bomb – I had an angel on my hands.)

Drizzling depression is a real thing. Being in denial of it is not healthy because you can’t fine tune your life to lift yourself into the life you really want to live, be the person you really want to be. I’ve become more aware of this as I’ve aged, and sought to learn about myself. I stumbled today. And that’s okay. It’s when I fall that the nurturing parent kicks in and says ‘You’re having a rough time. It’s time to take off your mummy hat and take care of yourself for a bit.’ Reenergise, regroup and refocus. In other words take a hot, steaming bath and let your better half put the kids to bed. And that’s precisely what I did this evening. Tomorrow we’ll start afresh with a morning star chart!


(NB on better halves. If your better half is away or you’re a single mum it’s that much harder. So take extra good care of yourself, and get as much help as you can from family or friends like your sisterhood.)