I think I’ve forgotten what it is to be truly happy. To have no worries, nothing hanging over my shoulder waiting until I start to feel happy to loom out of the dark. No niggling fears. It’s been so long.

Honestly I think the last time I was truly happy was before I got pregnant with Effy. As soon as I got pregnant with her there was the panic of what I was going to do, how would I cope, then I lost her and I knew from then that I would never be completely happy again. Something broke or shut down or stopped feeling I can’t describe it but it’s almost like I go headfirst into situations now with the attitude, what’s the worst that can happen when the worst already has? Now a little bit of this attitude has to be good, but I can feel it taking over more and more. Obviously I won’t do anything life threatening because I still have Jackson, but I throw my emotions under the bus on a regular basis only for them to be cut up and handed back but apart from getting a bit grumpy and shedding a few tears about it all I don’t feel it. It’s like my emotions have been desensitised!

I have a sense of perspective that I guess most people will never have, that the trivial stuff doesn’t really matter. But what if I’m trivialising stuff that really does matter? What if things that look unimportant to me now really are and I’ll realise that down the line? What if I’m missing out on bits of life because I can’t be bothered to deal with people’s crap any more?

A colleague at work said to me the other day he admires how I always come into work with a smile on my face and just deal with whatever happens and not let it get to me. Well I never used to be like that! I used to let every little thing get to  me but again it must be down to a shifted perspective.

But to be truly happy? I’m not sure I know how. Sure I have moments of pure bliss, watching Jackson doing something or just marvelling at him, us, or our life, but then reality comes crashing down and nothing seems so stable and sure any more.

What I wouldn’t give to have one day, just one day of pure, unadulterated happiness again.

I’ve always struggled knowing what to say when people are upset or in difficult situations, but you’d think that after losing a baby I’d be better but honestly I’m still just as likely to say the wrong thing or clam up!

I know how it feels and I know saying nothing is worse than saying the wrong thing, but I’m terrible when I’m put on the spot. I’m actually quite a cold person, I’m not a fan of hugs (apart from from my son with whom I welcome hugs and kisses any time of day or night) and being able to offer comforting words without sounding patronising is best done after some thought in a carefully composed message, put me on the spot and I’ll probably stand there awkwardly, come out with all the cliches they tell you not to say and then beat myself up for months after about how I handled it!

When someone mentions my little girl to me in person they act like I should get upset, but I don’t. I smile and tell them it’s fine, it’s not, it’s far from it, but my way of coping is a brave face and then the occasional day on the sofa in a zombie like state unable to smile. People seem confused that I talk about her all the time on social media but never in person, well that’s more to do with the fact people get uncomfortable when I talk about her in person and I find myself comforting them, which doesn’t help anyone!

So these posts where people complain about the wrong things to say, just spare a thought for those of us who have probably at one point or another, actually said those things, not because we are horrible people, or even that we don’t necessarily ‘get it’ but because we suffer from foot in mouth syndrome where our mouth knows we should say something and our brain doesn’t think fast enough so something terrible comes out!

Often when I say I’m a single parent I get met with ‘oh that must be really hard for you’ and ‘doing it all on your own’ well yes, it is hard being a parent on your own, but possibly not why you’d think.

I’d like to say I didn’t set out to be a single parent, I was engaged to who I thought was the man of my dreams and we were starting our family together, but things didn’t work out and here I am. 

Now people often think it’s hard because you have to do all the parenting tasks by yourself, cooking, cleaning, washing up, bedtimes, bath times, mealtimes, but honestly, most mums will say that they end up stuck doing those tasks whilst dad is at work so to be honest in that respect I see it as no different to a ‘normal’ family. Maybe they get an extra bit of help at bath/bedtime, and maybe dad gets up early one day of the weekend to give mum a lie in, I said maybe! But honestly all of those things have now become every day to me, it’s not there that I miss having someone to do this with.

When I have had a rubbish day and Jackson’s kicked off or not eaten the meal I’d slaved over, I sit on the sofa and I’d love to turn to someone else and have a rant, a grumble, have someone to reassure me that dinner was lovely, or that it sounds like Jackson was just in a mood today and you’re not a rubbish mum because he kicked off. 

When we go out somewhere to have someone to share those moments with, when Jackson squeals at a seagull or runs along a beach, kisses a goat or jumps into my arms, I see it all alone, I can’t look to someone else with that ‘oh wow did he just do that’ look because there’s no one there and out of all of this, the loneliness and the long days, that’s the bit that sucks the most, that I don’t have someone to marvel at (and grumble about) this little human with me.