You can't pour from an empty cup!

Lucy’s been in a hell of a state. She’s been struggling to keep up at school and it’s getting harder and harder to keep myself afloat. That sounds awful doesn’t it, it’s not as if I think it’s all about me but it’s my job to keep her going. I have to rally her, to guide her. To catch her when she falls. When the tears are tripping her, I have to wipe them dry. I have to keep a stiff upper lip when hers is wobbling. I have to hug her for dear life when she breaks down. I have to fight for her and be her advocate and stick up for her when she’s getting the shitty end of the stick. I do all this ten-fold, and I will never ever stop until my dying breath. But it’s tough and I have to admit I’m struggling too.

School isn’t really much cop. They can empathise to a point but don’t get it. Not many people can or do, to be honest. She has highly specialised needs which are beyond the school. She has mates but sometimes they don’t know how to deal with it either but they do love her to bits and always try and put a smile on her face. They message her loads and send funny videos and memes to distract her, plus they go out for tea when she’s well enough to do that.

The latest episode has double-whacked her, as her issues often do. Her anxiety is monumental and it’s also kicked off her Crohn’s which is a nightmare anyway. She’s been afraid to leave the house, bless her, and wants to stay indoors. I’m the only person who can really calm her and I’ve been up the wall juggling her, and she’s obviously my priority, but trying to keep work sweet and run the house, looking after the others…it’s system overload time for me.

I can cope but for how long? It’s not as if my hubby, bless him, is much use when it comes to Lucy. I should be thankful he can at least offer me a shoulder to cry on, and he does make a mean chips, sausage and egg for the kids, so he does do what he can in the ways he can be helpful, if that makes sense? Still, it’s my role to steady the ship and steer us through the increasingly choppy waters life hurls our way. If I can keep a firm grip on the wheel, even if my legs are buckling underneath me, I reckon I’ll be alright.

Work is brilliant about it and I ought to open up more about her, but I don’t want to bring everyone else down, some of them look downbeat and downtrodden at the best of times. I know I must look after myself because I have to be on tip-top form to carry her. I’d love to go for one of those therapy sessions, like Reflexology or an Indian Head Massage, yet the guilt eats me up even contemplating it. But it’d give me a boost and that's what I desperately need.

Hiding bottles on the job

 I very nearly got caught out. Such a silly cow I am, I’m going to have to be more careful. I covered my tracks but it was a close encounter of the bloody awful kind, note to self – don’t get lackadaisical or above my station. I’m a cleaner at the end of the day and can be replaced just like that. I adore this job, I love the people and where it’s located, it’s very handy and a stone’s throw from the bus stop. I’m part of the furniture but old furniture can get discarded if it’s knackered.

One of the staff, Beryl, came in super early and nearly clocked me taking a few swigs. There hadn’t been any shindig the previous evening but I’d brought my own mini bottles of fizz, they’re dead cheap from Home Bargains. I’d polished off two and was getting stuck into a third when she came in. I heard her heels so I knew someone was coming. Dead quickly I yanked the bottle from my gob, nearly spilling some over me, oh I’m a mucky cow. Never mind a dinner badge, I was close to getting an ale badge. Anyway, emergency was swerved as I fastened the lid back on and stuffed it into my tabard pocket. Not that she would’ve noticed as she was very distracted by something heavy weighing on her mind, but I made sure I hid it well.

She had a face like thunder but was pleasant, she always is, but I reckon she’s going through something mega, to do with her old fella. Not that I like gossip but if information goes begging, I’m not going to turn it down am I? I could sense she was relieved to see me and we had a nice chat about stuff. All the while I could feel that bottle burning a hole in my pocket. I was careful not to turn around too quick in case it started to clang about. The things we have to do hey. It was lovely to see her but she also interrupted my drinking time which, if I’m brutally honest, I’m peeved at. I had another bottle in my bag but looks like that’ll have to keep.

It's become a habit to have a bit to drink while I clean, it kind of invigorates me and makes me work quicker and gives me a spring in my step. Hard to explain but I look forward to it and it’s part of my routine. Some people have superstitions or do things a certain way, well I like a drink. I’m not harming anybody. I mean, that spring in my step evaporates around 10am and I can get a bit of a headache and feel a bit flat and disappointed, but what can you do? I’ve stocked up on paracetamol and make sure I down loads of water as my throat gets dry and scratchy. Not to mention the acid reflux occasionally bubbling away. It’s my thing I like to do and like I said it doesn’t hurt anyone. I just need to be more mindful of early birds like Beryl wanting to catch the worm.