I've been told a lot that I am born to be a mother. My body disagrees.
This blog came as a response to another [Here] talking about the joy of being a mother and the pain of those people who are left to deal with the fact that they will never have their own children no matter how much they crave it. I can't help but think of the term 'smug marrieds' from Bridget Jones when I think about this. There is something very cruel about the fact that mothers complain about juggling their job with their children and having their own time when the option for some women has been very definitely removed. I would never deny that yes that can be difficult, it can be exhausting but the payouts surely outweigh the negatives, the love a mother feels from her child is like no other. Women who find themselves unable to have children don't get these payouts, they don't get to carry the child, feel them grow inside them and know that this child is a combination of them and (usually) the person they love the most in the world. Mother will never be a label they'll be known by and for many that's a heartbreaking fact they are forced to come to terms with, salt rubbed further into the wound by mothers who seem to see their children as a burden not blessing.
I feel for women who have it tough, I don't know how people seem to juggle things constantly and I don't know at the moment how to have the patience to be a mother. I know that this will come and I will learn (motherhood to me is not an automatically innate god given talent, it has to be learnt just like anything else) but at the moment I am not in the right place to have a child for so many reasons. I am however constantly at odds with my body. I have endometriosis. I don't know what the chances of me having children are, we won't know until we try and that won't be for a while but I keep thinking that I should bring it forward, I should try now because surely the sooner the better when it comes to the human body? Your ovaries are not the kind of things that you want to mature, they are no fine wine. What if I get to 32 and I find that I am barren, that I cannot have children and my future is not one of a combined DNA producing a brand new human being. Could I do that to Liam? Does he not have the right to pass his genes on and be called a father? We have discussed this at length and he has told me that no matter what happens, children or not, he will stay with me. Whether that is the case in 5 years is another matter.
This struggle between waiting for the right time and going purely on the biological has been made even more difficult by other people. The world seems to be invaded by babies at the moment, mother complaining of late nights and spit up and accidentally getting pregnant and I sit there and think but what if that's never going to be me? I know I can adopt, I would adopt, that's on the agenda anyway but it's not baring your own and it's not got all of those things that you expect from pregnancy and motherhood. It's hard for me because I want to sit there and tell these women off, tell them to stop moaning because they get to experience that and I might not. I get pain, crippling pain, as a reminder that I may not have a child every month I don't want to feel bad about the experiences everyone else gets to have and doesn't appreciate as well. I'm not going to lie, it hurts sometimes to think that could not be my fate. I'd love to be one of those juggling mothers who gets to come home each day and see their child asleep, happy and peaceful.
I think everyones got the right to moan, I own a blog I couldn't really argue, but I hope mums remember that some people aren't as lucky as them and if it came down to it they wouldn't swap their world for anything but there are so many who would.
Wednesday, 4 April 2012
Tuesday, 3 April 2012
BEDA 3: The tiny places between broken places.
Today I listened to the Moth blog and one of the stories was about a woman who lost control. She lost control of her life and of her mind, of everythings she knew, this got me thinking about a topic that is really quite important and extremely relevant to my life, mental health.
It's strange to write the phrase 'mental health' because it automatically conjures up an image in my head of a large thermometer style instrument that measures just how well you are doing in the happiness department. If such an instrument existed mental health would probably have a lot less stigma. It's been said numerous times that mental health is so difficult an illness to deal with because there are very few outward signs, people can function when depressed, they carry on existing and unless you really want to look you won't find what you need to. This is nothing new, many a blogger, doctor and writer has tried to convey this. That the battle going on beneath the surface can be far more terrifying than a broken arm.
Personally for me, it's JK Rowlings dementors in the Harry Potter series that represent depression in a very physical way(and no this is not just because I am a massive Harry fan, ok maybe a little to do with my JK fan girling but that's for another blog). The dementors that are meant to suck the happiness out of you, make you remember every bad memory and bit by bit turn you into a shell, eventually administering their kiss and leaving you empty. It is no surprise to me that I was truly terrified of the dementors when I first read the books and still now thinking of these creatures gives me shivers. I suppose I should be happy that the physical incarnations of this idea don't exist but for me, as for JK Rowling and many others, they do exist and the fight to find a happy enough memory to keep them at bay can be a daily struggle.
I can't remember the first time I felt truly depressed, it's always been there, lurking in the background of my life ready to leap out at any opportunity life presents it. This is not a woe is me story, I know that this is just part of who I am. When I asked my mother what I was like as a child she paused for quite some time and finally responded with the comment 'deep'. I've always been a thinker. Not in an 'I'm awesome and clever' kind of way but in a 'likely to analsye every single thing until my brain won't take it anymore' kind of way. It is not a surprise to my family that I have problems sleeping, when I was a child I would lay there in my bed and say goodnight in my head, I would start off with the normal ones, family, friends, pets but then I would worry that I'd left someone out, I would go on and on saying good night to the city, country, world, sky, stars, moon, sun (even though it had already gone to sleep way before me) and eventually universe and anything beyond that. I was terrified that someone would feel bad if I left them out of my goodnights, the ones I was saying in my head. I was about 5 when this happened. Around the same time I would also have overwhelming waves of panic that something was going to happen to my nan, to the point where I would crawl into her bed sobbing and shaking. Depression is part of what has made me who I am today. Would I wish for a life without it? Possibly but probably not. I would not have the people in my life who I have now. I may have scars but the connections mean more and will last longer than any pain from any razor could.
From Sylvia Plath to Elizabeth Wurtzel, from Kurt Cobain to Aaron Lewis and so many more depression is alive in writing and alive in the arts. So many of the songs that I relate to having sinister undertones, depression to me was interesting. Who wanted a cookie cutter life and I used to think that cookie cutter meant california moods. The sunshine disposition for me was bland and maybe that's why I gravitated towards the music, art and literature that I did but now, well now I'm realising that just because happiness doesn't have as many ups and downs as depression it is not the sunshine monotomous life that I envisinged. Happiness means you can enjoy things. It's that simple. It means that you don't feel bad about yourself and you don't want to hurt yourself or cut yourself off from other people. It means that rather than exist I can live.
I will always have to fight my own mind. I know this, it's something that I've accepted as part of my character but I've also accepted that I will come out of the otherside of these phases. I would love to say that suicidal thoughts won't cross my mind again but I can't make that assumption. I would like to assume that now I have the capabilities and support to ask for help. I don't think I'm that bad a person and as the story teller on the moth said today "the tiny place between broken places are filled with people's stories and that mosaic is strong". I am filled with the stories I've heard along the way, the people who trusted me enough to confide in me because they don't feel stupid talking to me. They know I've been there and I hear their stories like so many shining gems listened to mine.
It's strange to write the phrase 'mental health' because it automatically conjures up an image in my head of a large thermometer style instrument that measures just how well you are doing in the happiness department. If such an instrument existed mental health would probably have a lot less stigma. It's been said numerous times that mental health is so difficult an illness to deal with because there are very few outward signs, people can function when depressed, they carry on existing and unless you really want to look you won't find what you need to. This is nothing new, many a blogger, doctor and writer has tried to convey this. That the battle going on beneath the surface can be far more terrifying than a broken arm.
Personally for me, it's JK Rowlings dementors in the Harry Potter series that represent depression in a very physical way(and no this is not just because I am a massive Harry fan, ok maybe a little to do with my JK fan girling but that's for another blog). The dementors that are meant to suck the happiness out of you, make you remember every bad memory and bit by bit turn you into a shell, eventually administering their kiss and leaving you empty. It is no surprise to me that I was truly terrified of the dementors when I first read the books and still now thinking of these creatures gives me shivers. I suppose I should be happy that the physical incarnations of this idea don't exist but for me, as for JK Rowling and many others, they do exist and the fight to find a happy enough memory to keep them at bay can be a daily struggle.
I can't remember the first time I felt truly depressed, it's always been there, lurking in the background of my life ready to leap out at any opportunity life presents it. This is not a woe is me story, I know that this is just part of who I am. When I asked my mother what I was like as a child she paused for quite some time and finally responded with the comment 'deep'. I've always been a thinker. Not in an 'I'm awesome and clever' kind of way but in a 'likely to analsye every single thing until my brain won't take it anymore' kind of way. It is not a surprise to my family that I have problems sleeping, when I was a child I would lay there in my bed and say goodnight in my head, I would start off with the normal ones, family, friends, pets but then I would worry that I'd left someone out, I would go on and on saying good night to the city, country, world, sky, stars, moon, sun (even though it had already gone to sleep way before me) and eventually universe and anything beyond that. I was terrified that someone would feel bad if I left them out of my goodnights, the ones I was saying in my head. I was about 5 when this happened. Around the same time I would also have overwhelming waves of panic that something was going to happen to my nan, to the point where I would crawl into her bed sobbing and shaking. Depression is part of what has made me who I am today. Would I wish for a life without it? Possibly but probably not. I would not have the people in my life who I have now. I may have scars but the connections mean more and will last longer than any pain from any razor could.
From Sylvia Plath to Elizabeth Wurtzel, from Kurt Cobain to Aaron Lewis and so many more depression is alive in writing and alive in the arts. So many of the songs that I relate to having sinister undertones, depression to me was interesting. Who wanted a cookie cutter life and I used to think that cookie cutter meant california moods. The sunshine disposition for me was bland and maybe that's why I gravitated towards the music, art and literature that I did but now, well now I'm realising that just because happiness doesn't have as many ups and downs as depression it is not the sunshine monotomous life that I envisinged. Happiness means you can enjoy things. It's that simple. It means that you don't feel bad about yourself and you don't want to hurt yourself or cut yourself off from other people. It means that rather than exist I can live.
I will always have to fight my own mind. I know this, it's something that I've accepted as part of my character but I've also accepted that I will come out of the otherside of these phases. I would love to say that suicidal thoughts won't cross my mind again but I can't make that assumption. I would like to assume that now I have the capabilities and support to ask for help. I don't think I'm that bad a person and as the story teller on the moth said today "the tiny place between broken places are filled with people's stories and that mosaic is strong". I am filled with the stories I've heard along the way, the people who trusted me enough to confide in me because they don't feel stupid talking to me. They know I've been there and I hear their stories like so many shining gems listened to mine.
Monday, 2 April 2012
BEDA 2: Stacey is already failing at this.
Day two of BEDA and I'm already thinking that I'm going to have to carry a note book with me everywhere because by the time I get home my brain has gone to mush and I am far too tired to create a cohesive paragraph. I think the problem lately with my inability to write is the fact that I am a night person. I like being up and about when the world is a little more quiet and the street lights shine bright. The night has always been a much more creative time for me, mornings go to fast meaning that I feel like I've lost half of my day before I really get going. However having a 'normal' job means doing 'normal' things at 'normal times'. Oh bah.
I don't know what to write. I was going to write about relationships but I can't seem to put into words exactly what I want to say at the moment. I want to talk about the importance of a stable relationship and how that's both new and wonderful to me apart from a few extra special gems that have been there all along. I just can't seem to get my words out. Things in my head don't seem to flow as easily anymore. This month I want to talk about a lot, I want to talk about my plans for the future, about Harry Potter, about music and what's going on in the world but today it doesn't seem to be coming. I am going to keep trying though and I'm hoping that by the end of the month I am able to at least write something I wouldn't mind reading myself. I think I'm going to have to plan it, that was never my old way of blogging but as I said that wasn't very good anyway and very much about my 'feelings' rather than anything of interest.
I also want to finish my book this month, that will also hopefully form part of BEDA as I would like to review it on here. The book is While you were sleeping and so far it's excellent, I enjoy mysteries and constantly trying to figure out the next move. I think that's what I shall go and do now. I am going to come in tomorrow and blog straight away with a cup of tea and actually make this something interesting. Ok, maybe not interesting but better than this. Ueh BEDA fail, well done if you're reading this and got all the way to here!
I don't know what to write. I was going to write about relationships but I can't seem to put into words exactly what I want to say at the moment. I want to talk about the importance of a stable relationship and how that's both new and wonderful to me apart from a few extra special gems that have been there all along. I just can't seem to get my words out. Things in my head don't seem to flow as easily anymore. This month I want to talk about a lot, I want to talk about my plans for the future, about Harry Potter, about music and what's going on in the world but today it doesn't seem to be coming. I am going to keep trying though and I'm hoping that by the end of the month I am able to at least write something I wouldn't mind reading myself. I think I'm going to have to plan it, that was never my old way of blogging but as I said that wasn't very good anyway and very much about my 'feelings' rather than anything of interest.
I also want to finish my book this month, that will also hopefully form part of BEDA as I would like to review it on here. The book is While you were sleeping and so far it's excellent, I enjoy mysteries and constantly trying to figure out the next move. I think that's what I shall go and do now. I am going to come in tomorrow and blog straight away with a cup of tea and actually make this something interesting. Ok, maybe not interesting but better than this. Ueh BEDA fail, well done if you're reading this and got all the way to here!
Sunday, 1 April 2012
BEDA 1: Uh-Oh Spaghetti-O
The girl who hasn't blogged in over a year is going to attempt Blog Every Day in April. Smart move right? I do not have a clue what is possessing me to blog every day in this month of fools but I am going to give it a go. The problem is I don't love writing anymore. I don't find the same joy as I used to in putting down my thoughts on paper anymore, partly because I don't feel like I really have anything that interesting or different to say and partly because I'm no longer arrogant enough to think that anything I've written is any good. Long gone are the days where I thought that my writing would take me on a pretty short journey into the lands of 'proffessional writer' now I just see I was a 15 year old with big dreams and access to a blog. Now I'm in my mid twenties...with access to a blog.
The fact that I'm in my mid twenties is depressing and wonderful all at the same time. That 15 year old with the block colour blog would have been absolutely horrified to find that I'm working a 9-5 job with no prospects and shock horror no real purpose. I always dreamed of 'making a difference' and never just 'blending in' but now I look back at those sentiments and can't help but mock the very innocent 15 year old me. She never knew any better. I might do a blog to 15 year old me, god help me I'm going to need help getting through these next 30 days when I can't even concentrate long enough to read a magazine.
Being 25 has it's good point, I'm at a place in my life where I'm a little more settled and stable than I was. 10 years have certainly changed things when it comes to my mental state. I am no longer quite so inclined towards melancholy prose and third person suicide narratives. Now I tend to think more about the world that am in rather than only seeing what's in my small little bubble.
I like politics and I like Harry Potter, which is on now so I'm going to watch it. See, attention span erased!
Till tomorrow!
The fact that I'm in my mid twenties is depressing and wonderful all at the same time. That 15 year old with the block colour blog would have been absolutely horrified to find that I'm working a 9-5 job with no prospects and shock horror no real purpose. I always dreamed of 'making a difference' and never just 'blending in' but now I look back at those sentiments and can't help but mock the very innocent 15 year old me. She never knew any better. I might do a blog to 15 year old me, god help me I'm going to need help getting through these next 30 days when I can't even concentrate long enough to read a magazine.
Being 25 has it's good point, I'm at a place in my life where I'm a little more settled and stable than I was. 10 years have certainly changed things when it comes to my mental state. I am no longer quite so inclined towards melancholy prose and third person suicide narratives. Now I tend to think more about the world that am in rather than only seeing what's in my small little bubble.
I like politics and I like Harry Potter, which is on now so I'm going to watch it. See, attention span erased!
Till tomorrow!
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