It began all right. Actually, if you (like I) consider Sunday to be the first day (and not the last) of the week, it started brilliantly. And, Monday and Tuesday came and went without too much stress or strain or sorrow. We were looking forward to Wednesday and my youngest daughter starting big school. Jamie took the day off so he would be there in the chaos, emotional upheaval and physical exhaustion of it all (although we were not concerned to much about her having seperation anxiety issues: she had gone to preschool, had loved it, and was looking forward to getting out of the house and back with her friends).
First of all, going to school here is not like going to school there – in the U.S. – where I grew up. A great deal of the parents walk their kids to/from school as opposed to driving to take and pick them up. This presents me with great difficulties. This puts me in the position of being very exposed in a village that I find hostile (it is also very physically tiring – it’s quite a trek to the school). I never wanted to live here, but that’s where the council stuck us when we had to get out of our one-bedroomed flat after having Fairlight. This village has a lot of personal history, and it was the last place – next to hell – I wanted to move to. It’s enough to send the emotionally and mentally balanced into PTSD. However, for someone, such as I, who struggles with depression and social anxiety to begin with…well, let’s just say, this makes living here more than just a mild daily challenge. But, you are told to deal with it and “get on with it” (I want to find whoever came up with this phrase and slowly roast them over a firey pit after equally slowly skinning them alive. I want to do the same thing to the person who said, “That which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”, but, I digress). But, hey, by the grace of God, I was able to cope during the time Fairlight went to preschool. Some days were tough because I just didn’t want face certain people that are about in this village, but the days that were most tough were when my daughter would throw tantrums, drawing unwanted bad attention from judgemental people. I was hoping that when big school started that she would calm down some (instead of getting worse) and maybe we could just get in and out and back home each day relatively unscathed. Uh huh…. well, I’ve been wrong before.
Today it reached it’s pinnacle when, no matter what I did (I would have been willing to give her the world had she stopped her horrible, relentless, screaming), I couldn’t stop her from humiliating and embarrassing me; all the way home she screamed at her very loudest, one reason after another, as if she was trying to do the most harm she possibly could to me. I know she was not thinking about me at all…she just wanted her own way about any and everything. Being nice and lenient wouldn’t quiet her down. Being firm and disciplinarian didn’t work. And there I was, in the open, no where to hide, while all the eyes were on me with people drawing all sorts of wrong conclusions – I knew what they were all thinking. There was no greater damage that could have been done. And, I wonder how quickly (because gossip travels fast in this God forsaken village) this news will get back to certain people/person that it will, no doubt, delight no end.
Every single day that I had to face going out into the village was a challenge to me. But, I was learning, if not to enjoy it, to bear it. Now, this. And, this, honestly, is far too much.
No picture today. This looks all too sad, ugly, and hopeless to have a photograph even begin to depict the depth of despair.