Saturday, 27 August 2016

On why I haven't blogged in aaaaaaaaaaaaages.

ADVANCE WARNING: This post is written for my own gain - not anyone elses.  So please read if you like, but it's a bit meh.

Catch up blogs are lame.

But sometimes necessary.  In this instance I'm hoping it gives me a little impetus to start writing again.  I have several unfinished posts hiding in folders unpublished, but am having difficulty finishing them because I'm having difficulty thinking real good.  Which is why it's been almost two months since my last post.  Which makes me sad.

I'm just feeling worn out.

Since I last posted I have:
- Gone back to work part time at our local Stevens
- Been a contestant on Family Feud

Me dick dancing in the soundproof booth with fancy make up on.

Both of which have been awesome but challenging experiences and I hope to blog about both soon.

The thing that's been the clincher to not posting is that I actually had/have the flu. 

'So what?' says you.  Well, I never get the flu.  Like, literally.  I often get a little bit of a bug for a couple of days, but I don't actually think I've been properly sick for this long since I was a teenager. 

I think my immune system is screwed.  I've been on two lots of antibiotics for other ailments before I even got proper sick - and one of those ailments seems to be back.  And it's painful and tiring and makes me just want to hide in a hole eating cheese and crying alone.  Because currently it literally hurts to be hugged.  It just seems to be one thing after another - never serious, but enough to be exhausting.  And on top of that I have the flu.  Which is the congested sinuses, awful cough, difficulty breathing, sore throat flu that everyone in West Auckland seems to have.  It's awful.

And what doesn't help is being a Mum.  Pre-Mumming if I did happen to get a bit crook I could do this magical thing called 'sleeping' and that would help get me on the path to wellness pretty quick.  These days I have these things called 'children' and - although I know this isn't true - it seems like they actively conspire to plan their naps and nights so that I can never sleep.*  They seem to take turns at not sleeping.  And while I'm glad that it means at least one of them is sleeping it means that, nonetheless, I am not.

Actual sick me sans make up.  And Etta

And not sleeping does not help me get better.  And it makes it harder to get to the Drs because juggling kids plus tired plus outing = impossible.  And the biggest pro of going to work currently is that - even though I'm not sleeping - I get more rest there than I do at home.  Sick days?  Why would I do that to myself? 

Conversations at home:
'Mum, why is R2 putting C3PO's foot back on?'
'Because it got cut off somehow and R2 is a fixing droid thing'
'Why is R2 a fixing droid?'
'Ask your Dad'
'But R2 was laughing at C3PO - why is he helping now'
'Because he's his friend and it's good to help your friends.'
'But why?  How did his foot come off?'
'I honestly don't know Etta.  Sorry'
'Mama Mama Mama Mama MAMA'
'..... {sigh}....'

Conversations at work:
'Do you have any bottle openers?'
'Yes.  They're right here, and are currently on a half price special.'


Work is just easier.

Don't get me wrong - I love my kids.  But when I feel like I struggle to manage my own wellbeing it is hard to be a parent.

I read this and it basically says: 'I'm so not used to being sick that being sick is way hard.' and 'Being a parent sucks'.  Both of which are totally true - but I can't see these statements and not think about people having things way worse.  Like, parents who are properly sick.  Or parents of kids that are often sick - or are really really sick.  Or single parents.  Or parents without the support networks I have.  Or homeless parents.  Or full-time working parents. 

And I know many people in these situations.  I think they are all fucking heroes.

I wish I could sit with my inability to manage simple things and be ok with it.  I think that is heroic too.  But I can't.  I know it's just my anxiety being a douche - but that knowledge doesn't make it any easier.  And the energy I expend on this equally doesn't help with the exhaustion and probably not the illness either.

Sigh.

Anyway.  One thing which is making me feel better is writing this.  I feel massive guilt when I'm not writing.  I think it's in part because I went to art school and feel like I need to at least be doing something creative.  But in fact, the bigger part is that I have so many things I want to say.  I have so many thoughts in my brain.  But they are transitory and impermanent - especially these post-kid days where my baby brain seems to be permanent.  They are there, and then lost.  And I'm always sure they're important.  Whether they are or not is moot really, but that feeling of not saying something important when you should is another thing that weighs on me.

And I feel a little lighter now

* Which is really counter intuitive if you ask me.  

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