by Lori Dwyer on March 13, 2012 · 17 comments

 I’m so sorry if I scared anyone yesterday… I truly didn’t mean to. I don’t think I thought a lot about that one before I hit publish, hey…? Thank you so much to everyone who was concerned- I didn’t mean to frighten you. And thanks to the handful of people who ‘got’ that post too- I know I’m not the only one who feels that way, some days.

Please be assured that I am safe. Always, always, keeping myself and my kids safe is my first priority. And I promise they are sheltered from the worst of this, as best as I can manage.

I’ve talked over this one with my shrink… it’s OK. I’m OK. I’m safe. I promise. I see my shrink. I take my meds. I get myself and my kids where we need to be, every time, emotionally, eventually, and I keep us all safe.

That’s the best I can do, for now.


The combination of wanting to self destruct and the loneliness that washes through like a wave on the 6th of every month brings a crippling anxiety attack and my house feels like its eating me.

The silence reverberates around me, and the walls seem to suck in and a voice in my head begins to pound that this is not my life, this is not how it should be, I didn’t sign up for this. My husbands face is everywhere, his voice echoes in my head. Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone. I am afraid of myself. (Safe, not safe, safe, not safe, safe, not safe….)

Safe becomes the keyword. I need to get my children somewhere safe, and then me somewhere safe. I am ashamed of myself and I feel stupid, why can’t I deal with this by now? Why can’t I just pull my socks up and get on with it?

I just… can’t. I can’t. I do it all the time, I just get on with it, do what needs to be done, raise my kids and smile and pretend I’m fine. Tonight I am too fucking tired and fragile and just plain sad, and I can’t do it. I can’t pretend.

I make frantic, tear filled phone calls to the few people who will, occasionally, mind my kids. Working, too busy, doing their own thing and can’t help me. And again it falls on my mum and my heart thumps with guilt as her phone rings.

She is so tired, so worn out, but she never says no, never refuses to help me. All I can feel is shame and guilt and I tell her I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, over and over again. Her patience is worn thin and she’s fed up I am so lucky I have her.

And I run. I play music loud in my car and drive that bit too fast because if I hit a tree it doesn’t matter, my kids aren’t in the back right now and I’ll get to see him again.

I escape to Bunny‘s and crash on his lounge. I watch bad TV, eat pizza, smoke too many cigarettes. I cry and I take Valium and I relax because I the pressure is off, I’m Lori again and not mum and I won’t hurt myself here because someone will stop me, surely. I feel ugly and fifteen years old and I wonder how the fuck my life got to be like this.

But I’m safe, for tonight. Safe, and so are my kids.

That’s the best I can do for now.

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{ 17 comments… read them below or add one }

Anonymous March 14, 2012 at 10:43 pm

Sorry to be blunt but please get some more help than simply writing it out to an audience on the Internet. You've writte souch about the importance of speaking out and treating mental illness, and skis quitting smoking – I urge you to follow your own advice. See your GP and psychologist. Talk it out.
I'd hate for what you write on your blog to be detrimental you caring for your kids, or for it to ruin the relationship you have with your kids when they are older.You write of smoking, drugs, suicidal thoughts and self harm. Remember that brilliant important post you wrote about people not being better off without you when you've gone, well maybe this also applies to your current situation – being absent through escapism. Your kids need their mum, and they need you as a well woman.
You're a strong woman – please use that strength to seek some proper, long term help. I can't imagine how hard things are for you right now, but I can imagine the devastation for you and your children if you don't get help.
Sorry if I've overstepped the mark here. I'm really worried for you, as all your readers are. I've come back to your blog over these few days and I've really wanted to say something. Glad you're safe for now, but you need to Be safer long term.


Cassondra March 14, 2012 at 9:50 am

Don't worry, I KNOW you wouldn't hurt your kids, but I do pray for you. I know because maybe I've never been there, not exactly, but I've been close. Driving through the empty night with no lights on just trusting that the road is there. I've been there.


becca March 14, 2012 at 3:47 am

to a certain extent it's good for your kids to see you break down, AND GET BACK UP. The need to understand that it's ok to…feel? My own mom had a hard time of it, but we saw her go out to her shrink, and group therapy. We saw her go to bed during the day some days, but we always saw her get up, and make us food and take care of us. At one point my sister didn't want her to go to therapy, and mom mom explained that she had to go so she could be a better mom, and my sister replied…"oh, so you will be a better mom, and the *I* will be a better mom and the world will be a better place"
It's interesting, I didn't see your last post as weakness. you are able to articulate what you are feeling and although it can be a scary place to be, facing it is always better than hiding. kudos. you are being a good mom and in the end, helping making the world a better world.


Anonymous March 14, 2012 at 12:39 am

I am just blog reader who is humbled by reading about the road you are traveling right now. I am so sorry that you have had to go through this.

I do want you to know 2 things that may be hard for you to accept.

Just as you are – you are worthy and you are loved.


Karen at MomAgain@40 March 13, 2012 at 10:27 pm

Sorry to hear! It is great to have a Mum like that! I also have such parents who never say no!
Hope you feel better very soon!~


Julia March 13, 2012 at 9:43 pm

It seems to me, your best is good enough. xx


Melissa March 13, 2012 at 9:40 pm

I'm so glad you were able to get a chance to relax and regroup. I just wish you didn't have to feel bad when you ask for help. Despite that, I'm so glad you are able to ask and ask until you get what you need. Here for you. Lots of love.


whatkatedidnext March 13, 2012 at 3:18 pm

Lori, I feel you. Two quotes from Jim Morrison;

“A friend is someone who gives you total freedom to be yourself-and especially to feel, or not feel. Whatever you happen to be feeling at any moment is fine with them. That's what real love amounts to – letting a person be what he really is.”
― Jim Morrison

Your Bunny is a keeper. And your Mum is your Mum. So good to know you have them.

“It may have been in pieces, but I gave you the best of me.”
― Jim Morrison

You are giving your best x


Miss Pink March 13, 2012 at 2:45 pm

Hey at the end of the day if you're all alive and well then that's a pretty fucking good day.
Living is underrated. It's much more hard work than some people realise.


Cath March 13, 2012 at 1:18 pm

Big hugs Lori I know it feels like a long time but it hasn't been … but I promise a time will come where you won't want to run

C xxx


Donna March 13, 2012 at 10:56 am

You are just as much a priority as your children – they need to know mummy is in a good place so God bless your Mum (who knows, as a Mum, no doubt just why you need this) for being there always. Stay safe Lori x


Pandora March 13, 2012 at 10:49 am

"huber iliac"? WTF?!

No. "hyperbolic" was what I meant.

Fucking iPhone.


Pandora March 13, 2012 at 10:47 am

Your last post worried me too, but I couldn't think of anything adequate to say. It seems huber iliac, even attention-seeking, to say that I empathise, because I haven't lost a husband and don't have two young children to take care of. But I do know many of the despairs you discussed yesterday, in my case derived from mental illness (in yours, I'm guessing, through grief and trauma).

So, all I can say is that it's shit; I (sort of) know that headspace, and I'm truly saddened that that's where you are. But above all, you're safe, and that's the important thing. Good on you for still seeing the shrink etc – it's these darkest of times, when that contact is most needed, that it's also the most difficult to face. Keep fighting. You are a tremendously talented and remarkable woman, and you deserve to get through this to a much more positive other side.

Please take care, and as people stated yesterday, the blogosphere is here for you. xxx


Anonymous March 13, 2012 at 10:47 am

dark thoughts are like a stomach bug… the yucky stuff that comes out is always better on the outside than left festering on the inside. Thankyou for sharing your thoughts with us.
Hang in there


Sharon A. March 13, 2012 at 10:32 am

I've written three different replies and hit delete, because none were any use to you, I'd imagine. I just am sending all my best thoughts and vibes your way.

Keep up all the help you're getting. I'm so proud of you for not letting the guilt stop you from reaching out regardless. That takes so much guts, and you're doing amazingly


Christy March 13, 2012 at 10:26 am

Hang in there, Lori. I know this is a living hell for you…please hang on and know there are those of us out here in cyberland who are thinking of you and pulling for you. xoxoxo


Eccles March 13, 2012 at 5:52 pm

Well, damn woman… just damn. Now that we've jumped this hurdle, would you mind so very much NOT doing this again. I have a tendancy to get thrown off horses & it BLOODY WELL HURTS!!!! I had a chat with Death after my Daddy died, almost 3 months ago now, & asked him to give my family a break from his visits. As I consider you part of MY little family, I would hope that you would reconsider not teasing Death for a.very.long.time!! Put away that welcome mat & I will tell him that he's not to visit you again for a.very.long.time!!! (Mum's can be amazing – when I had to go for my termination, my mum hung up the phone on me… spec. eh!!)
Oh & when you drive to Bunny's house, drive with care. Love you honey – I'm here in one form or another XX


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