Porglet Minimus has a sore tummy. She’s had it on and off for a month or so now…or has she?
The Ex-hubby seems to think it’s not a return of reflex/food intolerances but psychological in origin. He may be right, he may be wrong; I just don’t know and that bugs me.
I hate doubting my own child’s word. I hate not knowing what’s upsetting her. I’ll feel one whole lit better once we’ve got to the root of the issue.
I always feel better once I’ve worked out what the problem really is.
It’s easy to lay the blame for feeling meh at the door of “it’s my illness” but, deep down, I know I have to be the one in charge and work out what’s triggering my bpd. And I know it’s not just a vague “it’s my depression”. It’s a whole gamut of little things, adding up to make more than the sum of their parts. It’s money. It’s waiting to hear back about my medical assessment. It’s editing my writing and discovering it’s not very good. It’s a touch of sciatica. It’s a touch of depression. It’s feeling tired after a night of long, involved, highly detailed dreams. It’s wondering if Minimus really does have a sore tummy.
It’s time to tackle the ones I can and pass the others over.