It's been a really really long time since I revisited my 12 things to do in 2012 list, so here's an update:
1. New tattoo - done. Twice in fact! One on my back, and another on the inside of my left wrist. I love them both, they make me feel proud and individual and they are such a public celebration of things so personal to me. I just love them.
2. Go Kayaking - I am actually going to do this at the weekend!! Weather permitting. I have a child free day, and my best friend suggested we give it a go. I'm glad I'm going to be going out with her, as she's done it before which will stop me feeling totally and utterly clueless. I'm excited, and scared in equal measure.
3. Pitch a freelance article - well, hmpf. No, this isn't going anywhere. One of the worst side effects of my depression is Writer's Block, which hits me hard and fast. Add to that my total lack of confidence in ANYTHING I do at the moment, and it's a no go really.
4. Sing on a stage - Still working on that one too. Maybe Rock Choir in September? Surely there must be a way.
5. Find a hobby - I'm no closer to this either really, unless you count eating out or watching a lot of movies on DVD.
6. Visit a country I've never been to before - Yes, another one done! I went to Germany with the kids and one of my friends and her family and it was fabulous. One for another blogpost.
7. Drink more - nooo, although my new tablets mean I can't drink wine so I am drinking a lot of Coke and Appletiser in the evenings. Does that count?
8. Walk from Bishopstoke to Winchester like I used to with Dad - This is so easy to do, WHY haven't I organised it yet? I must.
9. Read a classic novel - Having softened myself up by watching the BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice (Colin Firth is luscious) I am about to start the book today. Wish me luck.
10. Lose three stone - HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
11. See a Shakespeare play - No, and again, this can't be that hard! I will organise something. I must.
12. Take the kids to the Isle of Wight - I was talking about this at work today. I am very very determined that we are going to do this. I have no idea when or how to pay for it.
Tuesday, 14 August 2012
Thursday, 2 August 2012
Depression is...
I saw this on Mumsnet today, and it struck a chord with me, so I wanted to share it. According to the poster, it's by Marisse Murphy:
"Depression is humiliating. It turns intelligent, kind people into zombies who can’t wash a dish or change their socks. It affects the ability to think clearly, to feel anything, to ascribe value to your children, your lifelong passions, your relative good fortune. It scoops out your normal healthy ability to cope with bad days and bad news, and replaces it with an unrecognizable sludge that finds no pleasure, no delight, no point in anything outside of bed. You alienate your friends because you can’t comport yourself socially, you risk your job because you can’t concentrate, you live in moderate squalor because you have no energy to stand up, let alone take out the garbage. You become pathetic and you know it. And you have no capacity to stop the downward plunge. You have no perspective, no emotional reserves, no faith that it will get better. So you feel guilty and ashamed of your inability to deal with life like a regular human, which exacerbates the depression and the isolation. If you’ve never been depressed, thank your lucky stars and back off the folks who take a pill so they can make eye contact with the grocery store cashier. No one on earth would choose the nightmare of depression over an averagely turbulent normal life.
It’s not an incapacity to cope with day to day living in the modern world. It’s an incapacity to function. At all. If you and your loved ones have been spared, every blessing to you. If depression has taken root in you or your loved ones, every blessing to you, too. No one chooses it. No one deserves it. It runs in families, it ruins families. You cannot imagine what it takes to feign normalcy, to show up to work, to make a dentist appointment, to pay bills, to walk your dog, to return library books on time, to keep enough toilet paper on hand, when you are exerting most of your capacity on trying not to kill yourself. Depression is real. Just because you’ve never had it doesn’t make it imaginary. Compassion is also real. And a depressed person may cling desperately to it until they are out of the woods and they may remember your compassion for the rest of their lives as a force greater than their depression. Have a heart. Judge not lest ye be judged."
"Depression is humiliating. It turns intelligent, kind people into zombies who can’t wash a dish or change their socks. It affects the ability to think clearly, to feel anything, to ascribe value to your children, your lifelong passions, your relative good fortune. It scoops out your normal healthy ability to cope with bad days and bad news, and replaces it with an unrecognizable sludge that finds no pleasure, no delight, no point in anything outside of bed. You alienate your friends because you can’t comport yourself socially, you risk your job because you can’t concentrate, you live in moderate squalor because you have no energy to stand up, let alone take out the garbage. You become pathetic and you know it. And you have no capacity to stop the downward plunge. You have no perspective, no emotional reserves, no faith that it will get better. So you feel guilty and ashamed of your inability to deal with life like a regular human, which exacerbates the depression and the isolation. If you’ve never been depressed, thank your lucky stars and back off the folks who take a pill so they can make eye contact with the grocery store cashier. No one on earth would choose the nightmare of depression over an averagely turbulent normal life.
It’s not an incapacity to cope with day to day living in the modern world. It’s an incapacity to function. At all. If you and your loved ones have been spared, every blessing to you. If depression has taken root in you or your loved ones, every blessing to you, too. No one chooses it. No one deserves it. It runs in families, it ruins families. You cannot imagine what it takes to feign normalcy, to show up to work, to make a dentist appointment, to pay bills, to walk your dog, to return library books on time, to keep enough toilet paper on hand, when you are exerting most of your capacity on trying not to kill yourself. Depression is real. Just because you’ve never had it doesn’t make it imaginary. Compassion is also real. And a depressed person may cling desperately to it until they are out of the woods and they may remember your compassion for the rest of their lives as a force greater than their depression. Have a heart. Judge not lest ye be judged."
Saturday, 28 July 2012
Low Ebb
I do normally try and celebrate all the joys of being a single parent (I know it may not seem like it) but today, well today is low ebb. And quite frankly, I'm not feeling it today.
I have just got back from taking the boys on holiday for five nights to Germany. We stayed on a fantastically family friendly farm, with one of my friends and her partner and children. By the third day, I was reduced to tears by the constant misbehaviour of my eldest son. Later that night, over a glass (or several) of wine, I confessed to my friend that quite frankly, I wanted to hand him over to his father. It killed me to admit it, I don't think I could ACTUALLY go through with it, but I'm exhausted. Bone bloody tired, and he is wearing what little there is left of my fighting spirit away. I cried again, when she said "I get it - we've always thought it was because he was over excited, or tired etc. But this is your life, every day." The fact that finally, someone whose judgement I really trusted, who spoke honestly to me, said to me: "Yes, your life is really fucking hard. It's not normal, or ordinary, and you are not making a fuss. It's hard," just made me break down.
The end of the week improved a small bit, then we're back at home and I have one, maybe two days of respite before his behaviour flares again. Then my youngest, probably feeling attention starved, plays up too. On top of this, today I spent the best part of £100 on shoes for both of them. That means I need to spend £30 less on food for three weeks to cover the extra expense. I'm only spending £50 max at the moment anyway.
Meanwhile, my ex tells me he has booked a holiday. So far he hasn't responded to my question about whether he now has enough annual leave to cover the rest of the school holidays. Did I mention that while we were away, he forgot we'd gone? He didn't know his own children had left the country. Jesus wept.
So today, in a bloody fury, I pummelled my hand into my kitchen cupboard, and broke down in frustrated tears at what feels like an endless bloody battle at the moment. I know that my mental state is not as steady as it was. I know that my depression makes everything seem harder than it actually is. I know that crying about it isn't going to make it any different. I know that my poor little six year old boy is struggling with his emotions, learning to adapt to one parent and testing his boundaries. But what I want to know is: Will it ever get any bloody easier?
I have just got back from taking the boys on holiday for five nights to Germany. We stayed on a fantastically family friendly farm, with one of my friends and her partner and children. By the third day, I was reduced to tears by the constant misbehaviour of my eldest son. Later that night, over a glass (or several) of wine, I confessed to my friend that quite frankly, I wanted to hand him over to his father. It killed me to admit it, I don't think I could ACTUALLY go through with it, but I'm exhausted. Bone bloody tired, and he is wearing what little there is left of my fighting spirit away. I cried again, when she said "I get it - we've always thought it was because he was over excited, or tired etc. But this is your life, every day." The fact that finally, someone whose judgement I really trusted, who spoke honestly to me, said to me: "Yes, your life is really fucking hard. It's not normal, or ordinary, and you are not making a fuss. It's hard," just made me break down.
The end of the week improved a small bit, then we're back at home and I have one, maybe two days of respite before his behaviour flares again. Then my youngest, probably feeling attention starved, plays up too. On top of this, today I spent the best part of £100 on shoes for both of them. That means I need to spend £30 less on food for three weeks to cover the extra expense. I'm only spending £50 max at the moment anyway.
Meanwhile, my ex tells me he has booked a holiday. So far he hasn't responded to my question about whether he now has enough annual leave to cover the rest of the school holidays. Did I mention that while we were away, he forgot we'd gone? He didn't know his own children had left the country. Jesus wept.
So today, in a bloody fury, I pummelled my hand into my kitchen cupboard, and broke down in frustrated tears at what feels like an endless bloody battle at the moment. I know that my mental state is not as steady as it was. I know that my depression makes everything seem harder than it actually is. I know that crying about it isn't going to make it any different. I know that my poor little six year old boy is struggling with his emotions, learning to adapt to one parent and testing his boundaries. But what I want to know is: Will it ever get any bloody easier?
Wednesday, 11 July 2012
Clash of the worlds
Hmm, exactly a month since my last post, where I talked about redressing the balance between work and home. Clearly, I've epically failed at that. I am not surprised.
Today I had a classic case of my worlds clashing together, in a way that when I try to explain to people they don't really understand why it makes me so anxious. Today was a huge event at work, in which I've been a central point in planning, organising and pulling off. I had to be at the office at 8am, and I knew I wouldn't get out of there before 4pm. This is my third event at work in three weeks. Meanwhile I also have to do all the other stuff I usually do, and facilitate a re-brand. Does that sound like a lot? Maybe it doesn't, maybe I'm horribly underachieving but the last six months have been exhausting, terrifying, exciting, challenging and a huge learning curve for me. All in 25 hours a week. And all this culminated in today, this final event of the year.
My Mum agreed to meet me at quarter to eight at mine and take the boys to various people for the day. I left for work at quarter to eight. My Mum is quite famous for not understanding why I get so stressed by my children. Last week, on my birthday, she told me the reason my kids get carried away and are so loud and hyped is because I'm 'harrassed' all the time. I frequently get told that when SHE has them, SHE just TELLS them, and they KNOW.
At half eight, as I ran from a marquee to the main hall, carrying chairs, umbrellas, and with seven people asking me questions, my mobile rang. Mum couldn't remember where she was supposed to be taking eldest, and he'd played her up so she was late and she was really sorry but she'd had to tell eldest off quite badly because he was just a NIGHTMARE.
(I had my phone clenched to my ear by my shoulder as I poured squash for 200 children.)
I asked the question: "Mum, what would you like me to do about this now?"
Her: "Nothing, I'm just telling you."
Ha.
Later that afternoon when I picked the boys up (the event went really well by the way, I feel vaguely proud) it turns out she'd told everyone; Mums in the playground, my childminder, that my eldest had been a nightmare and that's why she was late.
Thanks Mum. I am now the working mother who is too busy to deal with her children, who are so bad even their own grandmother won't look after them.
What I find hard about being a working Mum is that the good scales are never even. Either it's working at work, or it's working at home. Sometimes it's failing at both. But I never feel like it's both working.
Today I had a classic case of my worlds clashing together, in a way that when I try to explain to people they don't really understand why it makes me so anxious. Today was a huge event at work, in which I've been a central point in planning, organising and pulling off. I had to be at the office at 8am, and I knew I wouldn't get out of there before 4pm. This is my third event at work in three weeks. Meanwhile I also have to do all the other stuff I usually do, and facilitate a re-brand. Does that sound like a lot? Maybe it doesn't, maybe I'm horribly underachieving but the last six months have been exhausting, terrifying, exciting, challenging and a huge learning curve for me. All in 25 hours a week. And all this culminated in today, this final event of the year.
My Mum agreed to meet me at quarter to eight at mine and take the boys to various people for the day. I left for work at quarter to eight. My Mum is quite famous for not understanding why I get so stressed by my children. Last week, on my birthday, she told me the reason my kids get carried away and are so loud and hyped is because I'm 'harrassed' all the time. I frequently get told that when SHE has them, SHE just TELLS them, and they KNOW.
At half eight, as I ran from a marquee to the main hall, carrying chairs, umbrellas, and with seven people asking me questions, my mobile rang. Mum couldn't remember where she was supposed to be taking eldest, and he'd played her up so she was late and she was really sorry but she'd had to tell eldest off quite badly because he was just a NIGHTMARE.
(I had my phone clenched to my ear by my shoulder as I poured squash for 200 children.)
I asked the question: "Mum, what would you like me to do about this now?"
Her: "Nothing, I'm just telling you."
Ha.
Later that afternoon when I picked the boys up (the event went really well by the way, I feel vaguely proud) it turns out she'd told everyone; Mums in the playground, my childminder, that my eldest had been a nightmare and that's why she was late.
Thanks Mum. I am now the working mother who is too busy to deal with her children, who are so bad even their own grandmother won't look after them.
What I find hard about being a working Mum is that the good scales are never even. Either it's working at work, or it's working at home. Sometimes it's failing at both. But I never feel like it's both working.
Monday, 11 June 2012
Getting back in the swing
I've been feeling a bit rocky recently, and trying to figure out why. I think I've now managed to put my finger on it.
Since I graduated from Uni I've put a lot of pressure on myself to get a career off the ground. Then my husband left, and since then I have really been trying to just keep all the balls in the air until some nameless date in the future when I'll feel like it's all come together. I always seem to spend my life waiting for something, and not really appreciating the 'now'.
I've spoken to some of my friends about this, and it seems to be a common problem. As the generation raised to believe we can have everything, we are rarely actually satisfied.
At the moment, my life is pretty good: I have my kids, my home, my health, a job that fits in around my kids and my new relationship is bringing me a lot of happiness. So why do I still keep finding myself feeling so stressed?
I think the problem is that I'm not good at dividing my life equally, and so I feel like I'm short on everything. The weeks seem to disappear: I can get to Friday and realise I haven't heard my eldest read, or practised his spellings with him. I will, however, check my work emails when I get home, only an hour after leaving the office!
So I need to redress the balance. This week, I'm going to attempt some changes:
1. I am not going to check my work emails from home, or do any extra work at home.
2. I am going to put a restriction on screen time for the kids, so I don't rely on the TV to entertain them from getting home till bedtime - we waste too much time in front of screens in this family!
3. I am going to have at least half an hour to myself each day, without the TV or laptop on: I can waste a whole evening on Mumsnet, Facebook and Twitter, and then realise that I've done nothing...
4. I am going to use my time more effectively, try and keep on top of the housework etc, so I don't feel like I have a mountain to climb at the end of the week.
I'll check back in at the end of the week, and let you know if I feel a bit more focused on the important stuff, and less stressed!
Since I graduated from Uni I've put a lot of pressure on myself to get a career off the ground. Then my husband left, and since then I have really been trying to just keep all the balls in the air until some nameless date in the future when I'll feel like it's all come together. I always seem to spend my life waiting for something, and not really appreciating the 'now'.
I've spoken to some of my friends about this, and it seems to be a common problem. As the generation raised to believe we can have everything, we are rarely actually satisfied.
At the moment, my life is pretty good: I have my kids, my home, my health, a job that fits in around my kids and my new relationship is bringing me a lot of happiness. So why do I still keep finding myself feeling so stressed?
I think the problem is that I'm not good at dividing my life equally, and so I feel like I'm short on everything. The weeks seem to disappear: I can get to Friday and realise I haven't heard my eldest read, or practised his spellings with him. I will, however, check my work emails when I get home, only an hour after leaving the office!
So I need to redress the balance. This week, I'm going to attempt some changes:
1. I am not going to check my work emails from home, or do any extra work at home.
2. I am going to put a restriction on screen time for the kids, so I don't rely on the TV to entertain them from getting home till bedtime - we waste too much time in front of screens in this family!
3. I am going to have at least half an hour to myself each day, without the TV or laptop on: I can waste a whole evening on Mumsnet, Facebook and Twitter, and then realise that I've done nothing...
4. I am going to use my time more effectively, try and keep on top of the housework etc, so I don't feel like I have a mountain to climb at the end of the week.
I'll check back in at the end of the week, and let you know if I feel a bit more focused on the important stuff, and less stressed!
Thursday, 7 June 2012
I have a secret to tell you...
... I am still a romantic.
I've always been a romantic - growing up watching eighties movies and reading Sweet Valley High books made me think I'd marry my teenage sweetheart. Unfortunately, I was so desperate for this to happen I managed to hook up with quite a few weirdos in the meantime. But then I did really fall in love and had a healthy happy relationship for ten years. And no, I didn't think it would end how it did and I'm still pretty sad about it, but I don't regret it. I married for love, and I don't think that's something I need to apologise for.
Anyway, I've made quite a lot of noise over the last eighteen months about how I WILL NEVER GET MARRIED AGAIN, EVER. I spent frequent Sunday mornings laughing at Steve Wright's Love Songs show, and in particular making up cruel alternate endings for the people who left dedications. A bit like this:
Radio: "Dear Steve, please will you tell my wife Doris that I lurve her more than anyfink, she is my world. Thanks, Dave."
Me: "Ha! Dave is SO cheating on Doris with Marge from the Co-op. Just sayin'. He is trying to throw her off the scent. Bastard."
I also now watch eighties movies and make snarky remarks about "That's right, you've discovered eyeliner and stopped wearing your hair in a ponytail, now he will DEFINITELY LOVE YOU FOREVER!!! Or until College you dozy high school girl, you!"
As you can see, I am a barrel of laughs to have around. Friends swarm to me on Valentine's Day - honest.
But look, this is all a front. I still believe that you really can meet someone and love them forever. Like in 'Up'. And I'm in that daft just started a new relationship thing, where I think about him all the time, and want to talk to him about everything. I'd love to think that I will feel that way forever, and maybe I will this time. See, even having my heart trampled on hasn't dimmed my romantic hopes.
I've always been a romantic - growing up watching eighties movies and reading Sweet Valley High books made me think I'd marry my teenage sweetheart. Unfortunately, I was so desperate for this to happen I managed to hook up with quite a few weirdos in the meantime. But then I did really fall in love and had a healthy happy relationship for ten years. And no, I didn't think it would end how it did and I'm still pretty sad about it, but I don't regret it. I married for love, and I don't think that's something I need to apologise for.
Anyway, I've made quite a lot of noise over the last eighteen months about how I WILL NEVER GET MARRIED AGAIN, EVER. I spent frequent Sunday mornings laughing at Steve Wright's Love Songs show, and in particular making up cruel alternate endings for the people who left dedications. A bit like this:
Radio: "Dear Steve, please will you tell my wife Doris that I lurve her more than anyfink, she is my world. Thanks, Dave."
Me: "Ha! Dave is SO cheating on Doris with Marge from the Co-op. Just sayin'. He is trying to throw her off the scent. Bastard."
I also now watch eighties movies and make snarky remarks about "That's right, you've discovered eyeliner and stopped wearing your hair in a ponytail, now he will DEFINITELY LOVE YOU FOREVER!!! Or until College you dozy high school girl, you!"
As you can see, I am a barrel of laughs to have around. Friends swarm to me on Valentine's Day - honest.
But look, this is all a front. I still believe that you really can meet someone and love them forever. Like in 'Up'. And I'm in that daft just started a new relationship thing, where I think about him all the time, and want to talk to him about everything. I'd love to think that I will feel that way forever, and maybe I will this time. See, even having my heart trampled on hasn't dimmed my romantic hopes.
Friday, 1 June 2012
Three Confessions
1. Boyfriend, I use your shower gel as bubble bath when you're not here. I have not yet used your razor on my legs, but lets face it, it's just a matter of time.
2. Mum, Yes I was upset the other night when you called, I don't actually have a cold. But I still don't want to talk to you about it.
3. Kids, I love you so much. But I cannot WAIT for you to go to your Dad's for a week so that I can catch my breath and tidy the house.
2. Mum, Yes I was upset the other night when you called, I don't actually have a cold. But I still don't want to talk to you about it.
3. Kids, I love you so much. But I cannot WAIT for you to go to your Dad's for a week so that I can catch my breath and tidy the house.
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