I have had a mini and unintentional break from blogging. Actually from most things in my life. I don’t quite know how but it all got a little bit out of control and I found myself in a haze for a few weeks.
You’ll know from my previous posts that AJ and I are currently going through a very long and drawn out process to sell our flat and buy a house. It has been complicated and halted at every. possible. point. The survey was bad; we overcame it. We couldn’t use the deposit amount we wanted; we found extra money. We got approved for a mortgage; they wouldn’t value the house. They valued the house; it was £15k under what we had offered. The list goes on and on and on. I kept telling myself it would be OK because “next week” we’ll have taken the next step. The week after that we’ll have taken another next step.
Brexit happened. I don’t particularly want this blog to be a place for politics, but it wasn’t what I voted for and I was honestly gutted. I lost sleep over it and what it might mean for us all in the future.
And then Archie pug got sick. After scanning and prodding and anaesthetising, they discovered that he has something called a porto-systemic shunt. Its a liver problem and he’s had it from birth; we just had no idea. We were given the option of medical management, or surgery. Medical management meant years of special diets and medication and reduced life expectancy. Surgery was a big deal.
We opted for surgery. I spent a week crying, obsessing, about whether we were making the right decision; sending an otherwise healthy looking dog into a serious operation. I couldn’t concentrate at work, or on anything else. Those of you who don’t have pets probably think this part is all a bit dramatic, but Archie is a part of our family; the thought of him not pottering around our house is not even worth thinking about. He had the operation and everything looked OK, although they found a lump on his spleen and had to remove that too. Then I got a call from the vet in the middle of the night. I was asleep and woke up to a voicemail saying that something had gone wrong and he needed emergency surgery. Then no more voicemails; no more updates. Silence. I called the vet at 5am waiting for them to deliver the bad news… but he was fine. He’s on a long road to recovery, but he’s back home and he’s OK. (Actually he’s spent the last 5 minutes trying to trot across my laptop so he can sit on my lap).
Looking back over the past few weeks I can see now that I was drowning. I didn’t know how to separate out each different bit of my life and process everything properly. Work was a blur and my personal life was just “meh”. I felt like I was bobbing in this sea of “life” with no way out. My anxiety was rife and my Rosacea went to town, big time. AJ and I celebrated our 4 year anniversary, but it was clouded by my worrying about Archie. I have been a rubbish friend and cancelled on people, I had to cancel my first ever blogging event attendance, cut short a work party I was supposed to go to and generally had my head up my you-know-what.
But we’re almost there. My head is in the right place and I’ve overcome my anxiety. I almost feel back to my normal hyper-organised self, almost. Things are looking up and we’re working through things together. Right now I couldn’t be more grateful for the friendly checking in some people have done and for the fact that AJ and I have done this all together. It will be worth it in the end.