The Lady in the Back Row

Today was a slower-paced day at home.

I started cleaning out the garage and realised there was far more rubbish in there than I first thought.

I was originally going to donate the couch, but after looking at it properly, I thought, it’s 20 years old, it’s had its time.

So instead, we got rid of an old chair and cleared out a heap of space.

Later on, my granddaughter and I went and had our hair trimmed, then picked up some groceries.

The cost of living these days is honestly intense.

Even basic groceries feel expensive now, and pet food in particular costs a fortune.

Looking after animals properly is becoming harder and harder for ordinary people when everyone’s already stretched financially.

There was also a bit of tension today.

I ended up having an argument with my daughter because she’s talking about wanting ECT treatment, and I’m really struggling with the idea of it.

It’s hard when someone you love wants something that scares you, especially when everyone’s already emotionally exhausted.

I also followed up on something that upset me from yesterday.

I made a care call to the hospital because the service is meant to support families who feel unheard or need extra communication. Unfortunately, the interaction I had left me feeling dismissed and unsupported.

I completely understand emergencies happen in hospitals and staff are under pressure, but kindness and communication still matter.

The call ended abruptly because of an emergency, which I understood, but there was no follow-up afterwards, no return call, and no reassurance.

So today I made a formal complaint because I don’t think families should be left feeling brushed aside when they’re already dealing with stressful situations.

Came home afterwards, relaxed for a while, then sat outside chatting with my friend.

Nothing overly exciting, just one of those ordinary days with a mixture of stress, reflection, and a few peaceful moments in between.

Netflix, relaxing, enjoyed watching KYLIE. ✨

Rubbish collection this week, and I’ve been trying to clear out a few things around the house.

Not rubbish — just things I’ve kept because they still have value.

I’ve got a leather couch I’ve had for twenty years that’s still in great condition, and instead of throwing it out, I think I’ll donate it.

Feels better knowing somebody else might actually get some use and comfort out of it.

Wake without an alarm tomorrow.

Joy 🤩

Today was just an ordinary day.

Worked from home, school runs, two houses, animals, keeping everything moving, and then straight to the hospital again at night.

It’s 9pm now we are at the hospital, I lay on the bed, switch off and relax, scrolling while they play beside me.

The younger child always with me the older child finds it too hard to see his mother so unwell so stays behind.

My daughter has always played games with the kids and still does, even while hooked up to a NGT tube and machine on wheels in hospital.

The hospital room itself is at least a lovely space, modern, family friendly, her own room with a nice view, it makes things feel a little less clinical and heavy.

She is still refusing to eat and expressing distressing beliefs around food and showering.

She seems lucid at times, which makes it even harder, but then shifts into fixed thoughts that are clearly part of the illness.

It’s heartbreaking to watch and incredibly hard on everyone around her.

She believes that eating would be “too kind” to herself, which is deeply upsetting.

Nothing exciting happened today and nothing much has changed, small quiet moments together.

Our normal.

This morning feels very heavy.

My daughter will have been in hospital for six weeks tomorrow, and the strain on the whole family is enormous.

The children are carrying fear and uncertainty every day, worried about their mum and frightened about what the future might look like.

Watching them try to cope with something so big is heartbreaking.

I’m also carrying my own guilt and questioning everything, wondering if different choices in life could have changed where we are now. When someone you love is this unwell, it’s easy to place the weight of the world onto your own shoulders.

The stress, responsibility, exhaustion, and constant worrying about my daughter and grandchildren has settled over all of us like a cloud that never really lifts.

This morning there’s no easy answer, only the reality that we are all trying to survive something incredibly difficult.

Right now, every day feels like a balancing act between holding everything together and feeling completely overwhelmed by it all.

Today was just an ordinary Tuesday.

Cold, overcast skies and the usual routine of trying to get through another day.

My girl still isn’t getting any better and remains in hospital.

Six weeks on Thursday, which honestly feels hard to believe.

Life still keeps moving around you though, the normal worries everyone carries, the little jobs that still need doing, the bills, the errands, the endless thinking.

Some days there’s plenty to say, and other days there really isn’t.

Today was one of those quieter days, just putting one foot in front of the other and hoping tomorrow brings something a little lighter

Another death in the family, although this time it was one of the fish.

I went to my daughter’s house this morning after dropping the kids off at school.

Yesterday I topped the fish tank up a little because the cat has been drinking from it lately.

This morning I walked in to find one of the biggest fish lying on the floor. The cat had obviously managed to pull him out during the night.

He was one of the oldest fish in the tank and had been around for years, so he’ll definitely be missed. He and another fish his size were like the old pair of the tank while all the others were still much smaller.

A grey, overcast Monday.

One of those ordinary days filled with jobs that never seem to end. On my lunch break I am going to put some lawn seed down and fix up the outdoor chairs with stoppers on the wooden feet so they can hopefully survive another wet winter sitting on the grass.

The roof leak is becoming another frustration.

The insurance excess is looking like it may end up costing almost as much as the repair itself, which feels pointless, but at least I am working and can deal with it.

Still waiting to hear whether my daughter comes home this week. The reality is, if she still isn’t eating, she comes home for five or six days and then I have to take her back again.

The medication still hasn’t started working yet.

Apparently it takes time, so for now it’s just more waiting, more hoping, and trying to keep life moving around everything else.

Today was lovely.

A sleep in, then spent some time working through VCAT paperwork for my daughter’s car after a really disappointing experience with a car yard last year.

Hopefully our case is strong enough for a refund.

Did the groceries, looked after all the animals in two houses, went to the hospital, then came home and cooked a beautiful dinner.

Fed children, animals, and possums, and tonight I just feel really grateful.

Lovely food, peace, and my own place.

Feeling Blessed ✨

Good morning Saturday.

A slow start to the morning, coffee in hand, scrolling the news while the world slowly wakes up. Heading up to the hospital later today.

A mild autumn morning with a little sunshine breaking through, the kind of weather that feels calm and gentle.

The smell of hyacinths drifting through the house, Mother’s Day flowers from my daughter is just beautiful, filling the rooms with the sweetest aroma.

One of those simple little things that changes the whole mood of a home.

No big plans this weekend, nowhere to rush to, just a quiet couple of days ahead.

Really lovely.

My favourite workday of the week because it’s the last one.

Friday. 🍂

The weather’s getting colder, the weekend is ahead and for once… no real plans.

Just looking forward to a sleep in and not worrying too much.

Had a roof leak the other day and honestly I think the insurance excess will cost more than fixing the roof itself.

Water bubbling down the wall right before winter is not ideal. Being single can feel overwhelming sometimes when everything lands on your shoulders at once, but I remind myself the glass is still half full.

Lucky to have work.

Lucky to be healthy.

I took my dog to my daughter’s house because their other dog lost his little friend recently and I thought the company might help. But I had to bring her home yesterday because she completely destroyed the plants and half the yard.

She’s destruction on legs.

I haven’t been to hospital for a few days either.

After two years of constant running around, juggling everything, I just needed a break.

I can’t sustain doing it every single day without stopping sometimes.

Now I’m just looking ahead to the weekend and hoping my girl is doing okay.

One day at a time. 🌙

This morning I walked outside and breathed in the fresh, crisp autumn air. I looked up at the sky filled with beautiful clouds, and the moon hanging there like a quiet smile. Not a cartoon smile — just that thin sliver moon that somehow makes the whole sky feel peaceful.

The Earth really is a beautiful place. Sometimes I think maybe God is already here, inside us, in the spirit of things. Maybe heaven isn’t somewhere else. Maybe it’s moments like this — waking up, breathing fresh air, seeing a tree move in the wind and actually noticing it. Good and bad, yin and yang, all existing together.

There is so much beauty in this world if you can still see it. A tree can inspire me. The clouds can inspire me. Just being lucky enough to wake up can inspire me.

This week I’ve been trying to be tougher on my daughter, trying to push her to eat, but really it only becomes harder on myself. Mental illness changes the way a person thinks. It doesn’t matter how much I talk or reason or plead — I can’t force someone else’s mind to believe they deserve to live and nourish themselves.

I keep hoping this medication works. I hold onto that hope because if it doesn’t… then what? But for today, I’m trying to hold onto the beauty that still exists around us, even in the middle of fear and heartbreak.