Moving house in lock down for the second time inside a year.

And I must say- moving really triggers me. Renting really triggers me. It gives me anxiety and PTSD symptoms and I hate it.
Plus the sudden intro of restrictions and every other thing this year has brought- my mental health is certainly not great.
I don’t often admit it to myself. But these last few weeks, it’s become really painfully clear.

I’m just not able to take another drop of stress. Not even on behalf of my partner. Which sucks.

But I feel lucky.

I feel lucky that I have support systems nearby, that I live in a country with good health care and right to protest and that we’ve been able to work and live in my family despite all the crazy.

Still- I think it’s worth saying that as lucky as we may or may not feel we have been- for the 12 million of us in lockdown at present… it’s probably ok at this point to not be ok.

Even though we’re better off than many. Even though we’re doing all the right things. Even though sometimes we forget, deny or suppress.
This year has been nutso.
This ish is not actually normal.

And if you’re like me and you’re beginning to realise that your mental health is at a bit of an all time low— this is just a little whispered reminder that it’s not your fault. You’re not failing. It’s just so hard, especially when we’re soldiering on for those we love so we literally can’t stop and refill that cup.
And after everything- we really do need help right now. You know just what I’m talking about.

So I’m off to pack another 🤬🤬 box or ten.
Because I have to.
Because I can.

But I know I’m not alone. We are not alone.
And now is not the time to double down and up the pressure.
It’s time for self kindness.

Sending love. ♥️