The mean reds

Every mother I know with young children would tell you that it's the best time of their lives. But it can also be the hardest. Most moments are full of sparkling joy, but there are moments of hardship and sadness. Some of those are obvious - when your child is sick or they hurt themselves or the moment you realise that you cannot protect them from everything. But then there are other moments - harder to define, but no less difficult.

Sunday morning I had one of those moments. What do you do when a feeling more akin to Holly Golightly's mean reds*, rather than the blues, seizes you? My first reaction is guilt. I have a wonderful life filled with people I love. My family is healthy and we are financially secure. There is very little room in my life for complaint. Yet whether the lack of sleep finally caught up with me or Isaac’s neediness finally wore me down, on Sunday morning was inconsolable and struggled to understand why.

And, in a self-destructive way, I turn on my husband in moments like these. Nathan tries to understand, asks "what's wrong" and then offers a host of solutions. With great difficulty I try to articulate a feeling I don't quite understand and fall short. Instead I cite lack of sleep, lack of time to just be still, Isaac being too demanding. Problems with solutions.

The thing is, I know that I should give myself a break at work. I know that I don't have to accept every invitation to every single thing on the weekend. I know that if I did these things, that I would have more time to myself, to rest, to renew. What I don't know is how to be that person. I thrive on pressure at work and time with my friends and family is dear to me. Most of the time, these things are not a problem.

When the mean reds descend, it isn't solutions I want. The fact is that I don't know what I want and that is the crux of the issue. A sadness descends and guilt follows and frustration ices the cake. That Sunday morning I went to a BBQ brunch with a number of my mother’s group friends. As they asked me how I was, I was glad for large dark glasses hiding tears that I couldn’t fight. But at the same time I know that these mums have no doubt had these same feelings, and if anybody is going to understand it would be my dear friends. One of my lovely friends gave me the most helpful advice – Just be kinder to yourself. And perhaps that’s the most important thing to realise – when the mean reds visit, be kind enough to yourself to give yourself a break. If you need to cry, cry. If you need to run, run. If you need to scream, scream. And know that everything is better the next morning.

*Holly Golightly: You know those days when you get the mean reds?
Paul Varjak: The mean reds. You mean like the blues?
Holly Golightly: No. The blues are because you're getting fat, and maybe it's been raining too long. You're just sad, that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid, and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?