Frustration

It's not as catchy as that Alphabeat (one word? Two words? Someone tell me!) song Fascination, but it's how i'm feeling today.
In fact, I'm tempted to do a Bridget Jones style assessment - amount of happy pills consumed: 10mg, stories written: not enough, arguments with top-level people in company: several.
So, to go back to the beginning, last night was less dramatic after my post but still not fantastic - every time I drifted off to sleep i woke myself up cos I was getting panicked about it happening again.
And then Tash decided 1.30am would be a good time to wake so that all added up to a bad night all round. But Mark went off to work okay, I managed to get Tash and myself ready and got to work a mere five minutes late - hurrah!
But that didn't mean all was straightforward from there. There was doom and gloom at work which took a valuable hour out of my day, which was an hour less I could write about the glory that is Whitstable's Biennale art festival...
That would probably have been enough but then I had to deal with a family row brewing during my lunch hour, managed to volunteer myself to act as mediator if needed (damn that self-sacrifice schema!) and returned to work with low defences and ended up agreeing to cover a council meeting on Thursday night - AND to pick up and drop off a woman whose sanity is more questionable than mine!
It's for a good cause though - my worthwhile Save Whitstable's VIC campaign - so am trying to rise above it all.
That all seems like quite enough for one day, doesn't it? But not one of my days - when I got home Mark decided a family dog walk would be fun. Except a family dog walk with a tired and grumpy toddler who insists on walking, then falls over several times, is definitely not fun.
And when said tired and grumpy toddler decides against sleeping when it's bedtime, that's even less fun.
But for now, she's in bed, Mark has found himself a mission and I've just got to clear up and do the dogs' medication before today's to do list is almost done.
I'm hoping all this keeping busy will distract from the fact that I feel like a hopeless failure for going back on to the pills but I do see it's probably a good idea, for now, at least. But I also see that 18 months of all this feels like quite long enough and I'd like to start a day without popping a pill.
Patience is something I'm desperately trying to teach Tash - so I guess I'd better learn some myself too!