For the second time since Sarah’s passing, today I failed to get any of my kids to school. The combination of grief and depression once again got the better of me.

Yesterday I allowed Rhianna to have the day off school because she is feeling very down at the moment, and school seems to be overwhelming her. She came out on Wednesday claiming she’d had the worst day of her life, and we had a big heart to heart chat when she got home. It turned out to be the combination of a number of little things which were getting to her, but it was enough for me to give her the rest of the term off while I seek to get some therapy arranged for her, which I’ve now done.

Rhianna spent yesterday morning with me in town. I took her for breakfast then treated her to some new clothes, a new book, and a lovely local lady named Beth approached her with a £10 Claires gift card which she said no little girl deserves more than her which was very kind. She happily used it to add to her ever growing collection of Beanie Boo Plush teddies.

As the day went on I could feel myself getting more and more down. Lacey must have picked up on my own low mood as she began feeling upset, and eventually missed out on Cubs because she too was feeling too emotional about her Mummy.

My mood eventually dropped to the point of feeling nothing but sorry for myself, as it so often does. I guess it’s understandable given what I’m going through but I see these times as a failure on my part as if I’m not happy, how can my kids possibly be? Lacey, as always, noticed my low mood and kept cuddling me. All I could think of was making it to bed time, I just wanted to be asleep.

So It Happened Again…

The morning alarms came and went completely ignored. I didn’t manage to crawl out of bed until about 9.30am, despite the kids being awake around me from much earlier, and reminding me that because the Furchester Hotel was on CBeebies that it was almost time to leave for school. The importance of that just didn’t register, I didn’t care, and they were all going to be having the day off.

I always regret it afterwards but the motivation just isn’t there on my off days to get up and go. The motivation wasn’t there either to answer a call from the school to explain my kids’ absence, although I know they would be more than understanding as they have been from day one. I’ve not yet managed to call them to update them, hopefully I’ll manage to do that tomorrow morning.

I eventually bullied myself into getting up, getting the kids dressed and dragged myself out of the house. Staying inside only makes me feel worse so I knew that if I was going to ‘snap out of it’ then I needed to get out of the house. I took the kids to the local soft play for a couple of hours.

After returning home I managed to pull my head out of my arse a bit by getting some seemingly simple jobs done around the house. I washed up. I folded some laundry. Things that usually are simple takes, but take a lot of effort when you’re feeling depressed. I prepared packed lunches for Lacey and Lucas for tomorrow, and piled their uniforms ready, hopefully giving myself the head start I may need come the morning.

I then sat in the back garden while the kids played some games, I had a coffee and made the call about arranging some therapy for my girls and in particular Rhianna. Her first session is all booked up for April 11th so, I guess it’s now just a case of waiting and hoping that some more counselling will begin to turn around her anxieties about school.

Here’s hoping tomorrow goes a bit better.

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Author: Stuart Wright

I'm a 34 year old widowed father of five young children, and these are my experiences of 'Being Daddy'.

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