Sunday blues?

I forgot how it felt for a while. My husband/partner in all things house-related/main dog-walker got a job working from home. The commute was a walk down the garden, the coffee breaks and lunches were mostly shared, times alone few and far between.

That stopped today, as his work in Belfast started again after nearly two years hanging around here. Last night, that sinking feeling of grey dread (you know it) dropped down on me again- the doubt that I would manage it all by myself. It’s astounding how quickly you forget how you coped before, when you begin to depend on someone else…

I remember the first days I was left alone with one, then two of our children. Or the first week living in France. Or my first night in student halls. But, you know what? I did it all. And today, I’m back from my first walk with the dog, relieved but pleased. MS always tells me lies about ‘not being able’. That is true sometimes. But not always. And how do you find out you can do a thing if you don’t try?

When you’re in the Sunday funk, remember you’ve done it all before and lived to tell the tale. Search around for people or things to disperse the mists. Don’t let the end of the weekend be wrecked by your despair about what’s to come. Walk amongst oak trees, light a fire, eat some crumpets (?!), drink tea and be intentional about it.

Sundays can be good days.

What’s to come will take care of itself, I promise.

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