Another year over, a new one just begun….

I burnt the suicide notes I had prepared. 

Things are not great. 

Paranoia is at an all time high

But

I am going to do 2016.

That’s a start. 

i’ve looked at life from both sides now…

i have written about my longing for children before.
i’ve known i want a family for a very long time. it has just never been possible.
i was too young
or
too sick
or
too single
i did always mostly believe it would happen.

that hope has been waning for a few years now.
i am 33 years old.
reproductively challenged
single
i have a history or mental & physical health problems
i am certainly not wealthy
the odds are stacked against me.

the desire does not lesson.
as everyone around me begins to start a family
(even those who didn’t think they wanted to)
i feel i am running out of time.
and
i’m scared.

i know i am just another woman with a ticking biological clock
nothing unique
or possibly even interesting in my situation.
the unoriginality of my problem does not diminish the pain.

i find myself increasingly obsessing over my options.
a solution has not presented itself.
i don’t want to imagine my life without little ones of my own
but
i can’t envisage a way to make my family happen.

i have no idea where this post is going
i’ve become so overwhelmed with the gap between my needs & my reality that it has just spilt out.
i am bursting with maternal instinct.
i’m ready.
i am so ready.

what a difference a year makes…

last year I met a nice man.
he was attentive, intelligent, funny & well read.
i found him attractive.
perfect, I hear you say.

no

i rejected him in favour or rather difficult man i met around the same time.
the man I picked was selfish & uncompromising.
even in bed.
it did not last.

I
i’ve talked about this with various people.
my therapist, my best friends, my mum & sister
all of whom, agreed that i had a bit of habit of selecting inappropriate men.
i did not disagree.

what I needed to know was why?
further discussion & some introspection brought the answers to the surface.

that nice man was too nice.
i was suspicious of his apparent loveliness,
i didn’t believe that it was real.
surely, his best behaviour would dissipate
&
i’d be left disappointed.
more worryingly, i was not convinced that i deserved this nice man.
i have never been with someone who gives me what i need.
there is always a catch,
a perpetual shortfall.
the idea that i had met someone i could relax & possibly be happy with frightened me
it’s hard for me to think i am entitled to that sort of contentment.

i’m not worthy
and
he was bound to discover that fairly quickly.
how long before my craziness, disability & general not good enoughness was uncovered?
how long before i was rejected?

so, you see,
liking this nice man was just too risky.
it could only end badly.

he could be a fraud
&
i would be disappointed.

he could recognise what a sub-standard person i was
&
i would be rejected.

either way it was too dangerous.
getting close to man who may actually be possible of meeting my desires was too threatening.
it was easier to choose men who never could.
relationships with built in obsolescence could not hurt me.
i always knew it would end
& therefore never become emotionally attached.
i’m sure you can see the problem with that.

Earlier this year, he got in touch.

just to say hi.
we talked for a few weeks.
i remembered how enjoyable conversing with him was.
we decided to meet
&
this time, I am allowing myself to hope that maybe I do deserve this.
perhaps happiness is within my reach.

it’s very early days.
we’re enjoying each other’s company.
who knows what may happen.
the important thing is I am open to the possibilities.

I’ve looked at life from both sides now….

I haven’t written in a while. I’m not entirely sure why that is. I seem able to write other more frivolous things, but any deep introspection eludes me.
I am volunteering again. A project I really believe in. it gives me a sense of purpose. I know I shouldn’t need to find worth outside of myself, but I do. I suspect if they were honest, most folk have a similar struggle for validity.

My body continues to malfunction in a variety of ways. Planning is redundant. Where I can go & what I do is ruled by my ability to manage symptoms. I am the queen of cancelling. I am so tired of disappointing others & myself.

My head is a mystery to me. There are days when I feel I am making huge leaps. Future aspirations bloom, hope is palpable. And then for no concrete reason I plummet. Days seeped in grey merge into one another. Life becomes a featureless landscape of withdrawal or a frenzy of anxiety.

Self-harm is never far from my thoughts. I am not actively hurting myself, but I still believe that is the true me. I am forever searching for a way to hurt enough & still function. I can’t begin to find the words to describe how it feels to daily fight your most ingrained instincts. In so many ways I am broken, I honestly don’t know if the damage is irrevocable.

even if i quit, there’s not a chance in hell i’d stop….

25 days.
you can not imagine how long that is.
25 days without picking up a scalpel
without that first cut
without blood
without pain
without causing harm.
25 days wihtout being me.

i don’t really know how to live this way

my mind is constantly thinking of new ways to hurt myself
not hurting myself feels unnatural
wrong
i’m not losing blood
i miss the sight of it
and the knowledge
that the blood is gone

i like to know that i’ve suffered
that i’m not getting off lightly
i deserve the pain
and
everything else that goes with it

i don’t know who i am when i’m not punnishing myself

it feels far from permanent.
the lure of the blade is still so strong

it’s 25 days of crushing guilt
and
just
a tiny bit of
hope.

give me hope, help me cope with this heavy load….

i thought i’d know how to do this,
but
i don’t.

grief is not a stranger
loss
not an unfamiliar concept

it turns out
you
can’t
learn this

i feel lost.
i wasn’t ready for this
how can you ever be ready ?

i’m scared i am getting it wrong
i know that doesn’t make sense,
but
when did that ever stop me

i need it to be the way
he
would want it

our relationship was so uncomplicated
it never become muddled
with
crazy

i was always the same person to him
and
he was always what i needed him to be

safe
stable
loving

he was a connection to
everything
good
a life that is almost gone

i can’t articulate
who he was
or
how i will miss him

practise does not make perfect
i do not know how to do this

beautiful, beautiful,beautiful boy …..

dear baby,

yesterday would have been your 11th birthday. i can hardly believe that is possible. i find myself wondering what we would be doing now. you would be starting secondary school. i can’t help think about which school that would be. i wonder if you would look like me. would you love your weird hippie mum or would i be an embarrassment. i wouldn’t mind either way. i’ll always love you. those are just a tiny sample of the millions of questions i have about you. i’m always imagining the life we didn’t get to live together. all the landmarks we’ve never reached and the everyday life we missed. 

i’m trying to learn how to remember you and still live this life that i have. i am trying to grieve for you. to feel sad, but not overwhelmed by your loss. i need you to know that i won’t ever leave you behind. you will always be part of my life. i will always be your mum. i hope i can find a way to cherish your short life and be at peace with you being gone. i want to live a better life. i’d like to be someone you can be proud of.

love always

mum

poem for allan

Solid stone is just sand and water,
And a million years gone by.
 
Daily minutes are just special moments,
In the blink of an eye.
 
Precious souls
aren’t lost forever
with memories  & love
we can sustain each other.
 
Dark days are hard to suffer,
When  no one offers a why
But
Solid stone is just sand and water
And a million years gone by.