Well, would you look at that? I’ve done it—I’ve successfully published a second blog post. That’s right, folks, I’m officially a prolific writer now. Sure, my life may be in shambles, but at least I can add “consistent blogger” to my list of accomplishments.

Now, onto the real reason we’re here: my ongoing, slow-motion breakdown.

Burnout: Now With Bonus Perimenopause!

Parental burnout on its own? Brutal. Parental burnout mixed with work overload and trying to hold down a volunteer role at the rugby club? Downright catastrophic. And just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, my body decided to throw in perimenopause for good measure—because clearly, I wasn’t struggling enough.

Honestly, if there were an Olympic event for “Taking On Too Much,” I’d be standing on the podium, clutching my gold medal while stress-eating a family-sized chocolate bar.

The Side Effects of Doing Too Much (A Not-So-Fun Checklist)

Let’s take stock of my current situation:

• Distant & Disconnected: I’ve been so mentally preoccupied that conversations now consist of me nodding while having absolutely no idea what’s being said. Did someone just ask me a question? Probably. Did I hear it? Absolutely not.

• Stressed & Snappy: The kids breathe too loudly? Instant rage. Someone leaves their dirty plate next to the dishwasher instead of inside it? Time to start Googling “how to disappear into the woods and live off the grid.”

• Emotional Overload: I cried over a cup of tea last week. I haven’t done that since dropping HP sauce down my top after trying to eat a Greggs bacon roll in the car on my way to the in-laws at 25 weeks pregnant!

• Overeating as a Coping Mechanism: “I should deal with my stress in a healthy way.” Eats four slices of cake instead.

• Brain Fog: I recently walked into a room and forgot why I was there. Not once. Not twice. Three times in a row.

• Tinnitus & Vertigo: My body has decided that constant ringing in my ears and the occasional bout of “wait, why is the room spinning?” would be a fun addition to my daily struggles. Thanks for that.

• Night Sweats: Because apparently, I wasn’t losing enough sleep already. Now I get to wake up drenched and confused. Delightful.

• The 10-Day Cold Virus That Broke Me: Just when I thought I was barely holding it together, my immune system went, “You know what? Let’s just really mess things up.” Ten days of sneezing, sniffling, and feeling like an extra in a zombie movie.

The Internal Battle: Exercise vs. My Brain

I know exercise would help. I do. I’ve read the articles, listened to the advice, and even had well-meaning friends tell me, “Just get out there and move—you’ll feel so much better!”

And yet, every time I consider it, my brain immediately fires back with:

• “You’re exhausted, just sit down.”

• “It’s too cold outside.”

• “You don’t have time.”

• “You’re hungry, have something to eat instead.”

It’s a never-ending war between logic and laziness, and frankly, laziness is winning by a landslide.

Rock Bottom: Population, Me

Between the burnout, the perimenopause symptoms, and the general chaos of life, I’ve officially hit rock bottom. And not in a cool, dramatic, “reinvent yourself” way—just in a “please let me lie down for five days without someone needing me” way.

So, what’s the plan?

• Actually Resting (For Real This Time): No more powering through when my body is screaming at me to slow down.

• Setting Boundaries (And Sticking to Them): Just because I can do something doesn’t mean I should.

• Moving My Body (Even When I Don’t Want To): I’ll start small—maybe a walk that doesn’t end at the fridge.

• Remembering That This Is Temporary: Even though it feels like I’ll be stuck in this fog forever, I won’t. Things will get better. They have to.

In the meantime, I’ll be over here, surviving on caffeine, dry shampoo, and the sheer force of will. But hey—I published two blog posts, so at least there’s that.

If you’re reading this—congratulations! You’ve stumbled upon yet another blog in the vast, unpredictable jungle of the internet. But this isn’t just any blog. No, this is my blog. And, like many of my brilliantly ambitious ideas, there’s a strong chance it won’t make it past three posts.

Why? Because I have a well-documented habit of starting things and not finishing them. Crafting projects, fitness plans, that book on mindfulness I swore I’d read three years ago—my life is a carefully curated museum of half-finished dreams. But this time, I’m determined. Because unlike my failed attempts at bullet journaling (which ironically required too much organisation), this blog serves a real purpose: to channel the absolute chaos of my daily life into words.

The Chaos in Question

Let me paint you a picture. I’m a mum of boys, which means my house operates in a constant state of noise, mess, and a mountain of laundry.

The soundtrack of my life is a chaotic blend of Fortnite emotes, dinosaur roars, and someone shouting “MUMMY!” for the tenth time in five minutes.

On top of that, I work full-time with a 50-mile round commute and volunteer as an Age Group Manager for my son’s rugby team. So, my daily routine is a caffeinated tornado of 5 a.m. starts, school pick-ups, meal-time negotiations, and an ongoing detective mission called “Where did you put your scrum cap and gum shield?!”

And while I adore my family (and the delightful hurricane that comes with them), I also need an outlet—somewhere to unload the mental clutter and quiet the army of rogue squirrels running laps in my brain. Because if I don’t? Well, there’s a strong possibility I’ll spontaneously combust.

A Passionate (and Overthinking) Mind

I’ve always been someone with a million interests. One day, I’m deep-diving into the horrors of ultra-processed food; the next, I’m researching how to become a digital nomad (despite the fact that I get motion sickness on long car rides). I can hyper-fixate on something for hours, get wildly excited about it, and then… immediately abandon it when my brain spots a new, shinier distraction.

The one thing that’s remained constant? My love of words. Even when my anxiety turns social gatherings into something resembling The Hunger Games, writing has always been my safe space. Small talk? Torture. Deep, philosophical conversations about life, the universe, and whether we’re all just Sims controlled by a sleep-deprived alien? Sign me up. But since I’ve been told oversharing with strangers at parties is “socially inappropriate,” I figured a blog might be a safer place to spill my thoughts.

So… What’s This Blog Actually About?

Great question. And if you figure it out, please let me know.

What I do know is that it will be a chaotic mix of motherhood, mental health, overanalyzed life musings, and whatever else my brain fixates on that day. It will be messy, a little unfiltered, and full of half-finished ideas—but honestly? That’s just me in blog form.

So, if you’ve ever felt overwhelmed by life, struggled with anxiety, or just enjoy a good, slightly unhinged ramble—welcome! Let’s embrace the chaos together.

Now, let’s see if I make it to post number two.