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I try not to let much negativity into my blog. I like to look back on posts and have them make me smile, not drag me down. But there is negativity, of course. No one's life is perfect and anyone who tries to say theirs is is just plain lying. So here I am writing this, knowing there is a very good chance I will never have the courage to publish this post, knowing it may be banished to Drafts, that graveyard of blog posts where so many others like it have never - and will never - see the light of day.

There have been bad days lately. Bad, bad days. Days full of short fuses and resentment.

Resentment of Adam for upsetting the perfectly balanced life we had with Emily, for making me feel trapped within these four walls and therefore unable to entertain Emily (and myself) in the way she's used to. Resentment of Emily for acting up every now and again partly because she's battling for my attention and partly because of her age, for her loud and constant voice when she wakes Adam up and disturbs the peace and quiet I've worked so hard to achieve (often in order to be able to give her some attention).

And of course, resentment of myself, for resenting them for simply being themselves.

Resentment of Malta for too many reasons to ever begin to list.

And to top it off, so much loneliness. The feeling of being surrounded by friends who, although they try and are patient, can't quite understand the place I'm in at the moment. Knowing that the two or three people I really would be happy to while away my days with, who really would understand me, are miles away in England (and ironically, Gozo).

Wondering whether I've jumped from the frying pan into the fire. Wondering whether it will all settle and whether I'll ever feel sane again.