stop giving me choices…

Posted in children, dating, love, motherhood, pregnancy, relationships, romance, sex with tags , , , , , , , , , , on 15/01/2015 by doyourememberthattime

i think i may well have written this or something like it about a dozen times in the last 8 or 9 years.

that may not seem excessive, but when i add to that the fact that it’s running aound in my head pretty much every day, it gets repetitive.

almost everyone i know has found their one, with relative ease it seems. they’re all settled & happy, which is wonderful.
but i’m that desperate woman in her 30’s who’s womb is a time bomb.

and i get it, i’m not the most captivating prospect. i’m difficult. i’m too old & dated too many fuckwits to put up with even the tiniest hint of bullshit.

i’m mental. really, properly mental. if you’re in any doubt scroll back through a few posts.

i’m covered in scars. literally covered in them. that’s not a hot look in anyone’s book. actually, i don’t think that’s really the issue with the scars. it’s what they signify rather than how they look. they’re scary. i get that.

this isn’t a oh no, i’m a pariah, no one loves me thing. i know i’m not repulsive. i can be pretty damn sexy & on my better days i’m a cool person.

that may be part of the problem. i know who i am
and i undeniably know what i want.

try as might, almost, just isn’t good enough.

i have gone out with a fair few lovely men. smart, attractive, funny blah, blah, blah
but
they don’t set my world alight
to be as cliched as fuck, there are no butterflies.

i’m lucky. i’m grateful.
i have extraordinary friends.
a close, loving family.
a bloody roof over my head.
i have a lot.
i know.

i want more.

folk are so supportive. they tell me how fantastic i am. how much i deserve my happy ending. i’m sure you’ve all heard this stuff at some point.
it’s never too late
there’s someone for everyone
you just haven’t met the right person.

of course the glaringly obvious point is, i have.
i have met him.
i’ve known him
&
laughed with him
&
fucked him
&
loved him
for years. for forever, really.

i know he’s the right man.
he’s an integral part of my life. a person who gets me through some really shitty times in his own undemonstrative way.
the only man i could realistically see myself being happy with
the only man who ever made me feel i was in movie love.
the only man who didn’t tire of my weirdness
and
matches me pound for pound with his own variety of odd.

my friend. my lover.
the man i can not have.

there’s that biological clock
&
it’s deafening.
the desire for a child is all encompassing
time is running out
i’ve spent too long being crazy
&
dating the wrong men
&
trying to be brave enough to try again.

there aren’t any years left to waste.
i have to get my life in order
and
do it.

that probably means i’ll be having a baby on my own
i suppose that should be terrifying
it isn’t
i’m not scared in the slighest
raising a child feels inherently right
i can not comprehend of a life in which i am not a mother

he can’t conceive a future in which he is father.

i can’t have both
we talk abstractly about what we’re giving up
if we’d met earlier
if we both weren’t so damaged
how happy we could be together.
if. if. if.
those conversations occupy my mind
sometimes.
they circle my thoughts before i fall asleep.
but
that circle isn’t never ending
i can not have both
that’s were this love story ends.

i’ve made my decision.
i believe it’s the right one
it’s not simple
or
painless
it is unequivocal.

i think i have always held romanitc notions of fate.
it never occured to me that destiny would be so cruel.
that’s life.
you roll your dice
you make your choices.

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We don’t need no education….

Posted in mental health, mental illness, recovery with tags , , , , , , , , , on 08/01/2015 by doyourememberthattime

A few days ago I was scrolling down my twitter timeline when I saw a tweet about an article in cosmopolitan on mental health. Alarm bells did ring ( it was in Cosmo), but then I thought perhaps the magazine was finally broadening it’s horizons & tackling more than blow jobs & fashion. Give them a chance, I told myself. Needless to say my initial instincts were correct. The piece consisted of ‘ insights’ from the book Fundamentals by Natasha Devon. It took the form of ten – supposedly helpful & informative – nuggets about mental health.

It of course included all the usual basic, but essentially useless stats. You know the things I mean, everyone has mental health, 1 in 3, there’s no such thing as normal blah, blah blah.

She also included the classic minimising physical activity improves mental health tit bit. When will they stop with that? Yes, going for a nice walk might help a person who feels a wee bit down. However, it’s not useful advice for a person who is terrified of opening their front door or too depressed to wash or experiencing hallucinations. In short all it does is make an ill person feel guilty for not being able to make themselves better & give ignorant people an excuse to tell us that we’re just too lazy to help ourselves.

Along the same lines was her suggestion that we should ‘practice thinking & behaving in positive ways to increase your confidence’. The notion of practicing thinking in a particular manner baffles me. How do you practice thinking? Surely you are either thinking or you are not? It is not a thing you can rehearse. Of course this counsel falls into the minimisation pattern. You’re not confident because you’re not practising. It’s places blame whilst simultaneously ignoring the fact that illnesses such as panic disorders or social anxiety can not be treated by just shoving a person into triggering situations over & over again.

The final point I want to discuss is by far the worst. I was immediately over come with rage upon reading it. Natasha’s 8th recommendation was that ‘there’s a right & wrong way to raise awareness’ . Apparently there is a fine line between talking openly & simply giving people ideas. We must not give details of our experiences only how we might have felt. I abhor this bullshit. How dare anyone tell a person how they can communicate their life experiences? It falls into that same old mould of not wanting to hear the dirty details. We are not permitted to be heard until we have sanitised ourselves. It sickens me.

Alarmingly the link to this article was retweeted by Mind’s official twitter account along with the policy & development officer for Mental Health Foundation. I despair. These are organisations who are supposed to represent & support all sections of the mental health community. Yet time & again they ignore our pleas to stop perpetuating this damaging nonsense.

So, I’ll ask again. No doubt my plea will be in vain, but I will continue on my attempts to be heard.

1/ Please stop giving credence to the minimising notion that excerise, healthy diet, hot bath etc will in any way help a person with a serious mental health condition.

2/ Please stop censoring honest accounts of mental illness.

3/ Please stop focusing solely on he recovery narrative. We’d like those who cannot recover or whose recovery does not fit the traditional shape to be allowed a voice.

You can read the article here
http://www.cosmopolitan.co.uk/body/health/a10241/mental-health-information/

Vomity conversations with the man…

Posted in dating, friendship, love, relationships with tags , , , , , on 11/12/2014 by doyourememberthattime

Me – I’m in bed already. So tired. Come cuddle me.

The man – Oh you want a ring and a cuddle.

Me – I feel pitiful

The man – sad face

Me – cuddle would be better

The man – cuddle also

worth it….

Posted in children, depression, family, friendship, love, mental illness, motherhood, pregnancy with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on 24/11/2014 by doyourememberthattime

one of my dearest friends gave birth yesterday
she brought a beautiful baby girl into the world
and
i’m so proud of her
i’m so happy for her
i’m so in love with that little girl already

but
i’m crying
when she told me she was in labour i felt a stab of pain so sharp
that it took my breath away
because i’m selfish
and jealous
and another person i love is getting everything I want

the thing is once i got my breath back
i prayed that her labour was easy
i prayed for them both to be safe
i was excited.
all i wanted was for them both to be healthy & happy.

when i saw her beautiful little face this afternoon
i cried happy tears
she’s perfect
and her mummy has done the bravest, hardest thing by bringing her into the world
i know how full of love her life is going to be
and
how wonderful her parents are.

we live on different continents
i can’t be there every day
but
i want nothing more than to be a part of this tiny new human’s life
i can’t wait to watch this family grow.

So, yes
i’m self-involved
and
yes, it hurts
but
the hurt isn’t a patch on the joy
idoesn’t touch the thrill of a new life
it cannot dull the pride
Nor dampen the adventure.

there will always be pain
and
it will always be worth it

the huge, expansive love
will never stop being worth it.

i’ve lost control again…

Posted in chronic illness, depression, self harm with tags , , , , , , , , , on 19/11/2014 by doyourememberthattime

i’m ill
oh, i know, i’m always ill
but it usually ebbs & flows.
i get some respite
i used to have days when i felt i like a normal person
not
anymore.

i’ve been sick every day for months
i’m exhausted
i ache, everywhere
i threw up
a lot.

my body has decided that i am no longer permitted to eat
my weight is plummeting
and
i have no control.

I HAVE NO CONTROL

as a result, i have shut down
because i cannot function without control
with every pound i lose
i feel like my actual self is diminshing
i am just fading away.

i rarely leave the house
i barely move at all
i can’t function
i can’t write
i can’t even cut with any efficacy.

i lack the strength or energy to assert dominance with a scapel
which means i’m lost.
i have to lie down to it
i don’t have any other options.

you took the life right out of me….

Posted in children, family, miscarriage, motherhood, pregnancy with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on 13/09/2014 by doyourememberthattime

yesterday was the 14th anniversary of my due date.
that sentence scares me.
in 14yrs my loss hasn’t become any less painful.
nor do i feel any less alone with it.

each year I try to put plans in place
distraction.
it makes no difference
it always consumes me.

i can’t stop myself from thinking of the landmarks i’ve missed
last night i lay in bed wondering what it would be like to have a teenager sleeping across the hall
would we constantly battling?
would he hate me?
&
need me simultaneously
could i have raised a responsible young man all by myself?
i really think i could.

i think about first words & first steps
playing him the music I love
watching him discover his own musical tastes.
i daydream of trips to parks
sleepovers
fights about how late he is allowed to stay out.

every year is another milestone i don’t experience
another memory i can’t cherish
there is a gaping hole in my life
no
there is a huge hole in me
and
it echoes in everything i do.

with the build up to each anniversary
i hope someone will remember
i want so desperately for someone else to care about my boy
to imagine how he would have enriched our lives
it would mean so much if someone other than me acknowledged his short, short life.
for anyone to want to remember him.

of course, no one does
and
i don’t have the strength to keep reminding people
it’s just another day to them
no one wants to talk about miscarriage
i don’t think my boy is real to them.

so, i usually spend the day alone
often drinking
crying
piecing together what might have been.

T
this year feels worse
i am running out of time
lately, having a baby has been a continuous preoccupation
i need to be mum
i am a mum
i don’t know if this wound can ever be healed
but
hearing a tiny little person call me mummy would start the process.

i can’t replace my darling boy
he’ll always be with me
but
my arms are empty
&
my heart is so full.

 

 

Beyoncé Heartbeat

novocaine for the soul…

Posted in chronic illness, mental illness, self harm with tags , , , , , , , , on 12/08/2014 by doyourememberthattime

I’ve been really ill. I have a virus that my compromised immune system cannot fight off. This virus is kicking my arse. I am constantly exhausted, everything aches, dizzy, cold, nauseous, the works. This has been going on for weeks & I’m at the end of my tether.
Enter, self-harm.
I think perhaps feeling so helpless played a part, but mostly I don’t know what happened.
One cut turned into two turned into me practically dissecting my entire left arm.
I don’t feel anything.
There is no relief
It doesn’t feel right
Or wrong.
Yet, I feel compelled to continue.

The voice in my head that pushes me hurt myself has taken over
It’s not the same voice.
There is no emotional involvement
It is simply an obligation I must meet
I am measuring blood loss
When I reach my target, I may stop.
I don’t know what is happening.
But
I am not afraid.
I feel still.