A good old rant

I’ve been thinking a lot about not being ok since I wrote a recent blog post on this subject.

I feel great at work and how I am in my role as mother to Jenson – often I feel that I’m flying when I’m in the midst of a meeting or playing in a park with my son.

But I’m left on empty when it comes to other things outside of these realms. Small events like unexpected plans or having guests to stay can throw me into a spin and leave me on my knees with exhaustion.

Not putting boundaries in my life, taking on more than I can deal with and having little-to-no time for myself is impacting me.

I’m comfort eating more, snapping more, feeling more and more on the edge of ‘ok’.

I need time for myself.

And so I’ve been weighing up what I need to do to find more time in my jam-packed life.

Breastfeeding

I’ve started to stop breastfeeding my son, which comes with a multitude of feelings including sadness, not being good enough, judging myself as selfish for putting my needs above his well-being.

I know I’ve breastfed him far longer than most people. I know I’ve given him the best start I could. I know many babies never have breast milk and are perfectly happy, well-adjusted, healthy.

So I’m not looking for reassurance or anything like that from you in writing this. In fact, you’re likely to get a punch on the nose from me if you say things like that (ok, more like a frosty ‘thank you’ – I’m too polite to turn to fisticuffs 😜)

Because I know all these things already and that doesn’t change how I feel.

I still feel anger, sadness, disappointment, hurt…

So I’m asking myself what’s going on.

I’m tired so am not at my best. Things feel trickier, my emotions around this ending are heightened.

And I’m scared too, scared he’ll not need me as much if he doesn’t physically need me.

I can also tell that I’m trapped in a rhetoric that it’s possible to have it all – being a perfect mum, employee, perfect person – and thinks of myself as ‘weak’ for not being able to just buckle down and push on through.

But I’m not weak.

I’m a human.

With only so much energy to expend.

And I’m an introvert.

Who hasn’t had much time over the past 16 months to be in stillness and recuperate from the hustle and bustle of life.

I had quite a traumatic birthing experience with Jenson and, thrown into motherhood I perhaps didn’t get a chance to process all that went on so I’ve transferred some of my feelings about that into this whole breastfeeding malarkey.

Getting out of my head

I’m so so so tired of being stuck in my head.

Holding onto the million different parts of my life – do we have food sorted for the week? Has Gregg got out £20 to pay the cleaner? I’m not talking enough to Jenson, what if that delays his speech? Do we have the paperwork sorted? How can I find some French friends for him to hear French from people other than me? Where is my community in Brighton?

It’s so busy in my mind.

It’s exhausting.

I’m carrying the mental and emotional load .

And I feel like the writer in the link above – I have a good, kind husband who actively does a lot of work, picks up the slack if I ask him to, does things around the house.

But I still feel on my knees from the emotional load I’m holding which keeps our lives together.

I doubt he would have asked himself, putting the last vegan sausages in the oven yesterday, whether we had anything for dinner tomorrow. Part because I enjoy doing the food prep but part because he doesn’t carry this mental load.

I don’t usually mind carrying the mental and emotional load. It’s something I’m generally capable of until I get to this point of depletion and can take no more.

Politeness

And I’m so good-damn tired of being polite and not speaking my mind.

Of bearing in mind the feeling of other people and adjusting myself to fit into their ideal (or what I think their ideal is).

I know they don’t ask me to be anything other than I am (although they might not approve if I were to be outspoken and speak my mind) so I’m mostly angry at myself for taking on this polite BS and not allowing myself to speak my mind more often.

I hate that my default is ‘yes, whatever you want’ instead or ‘nah, I’m alright thanks’.

I hate how this makes me exhausted.

I hate how I don’t say ‘that hurts’ when something someone says hurts my feelings. And instead I bury it deep and hide away the pain.

I know I am getting better at speaking my mind, letting go of needing to please, being open and honest to those around me.

But it’s exhausting to step out of safety and into unknown territory.

The anxiety after my neighbour asked if she could cook a chicken in my oven (as hers is broken) and I said ‘yes, but poor chicken’ as I’m against slaughtering animals for our own purposes. I expressed my view but am on tenterhooks that she might feel ill-will towards me and my views.

Such a small thing but something that is taking up brain space when I’d rather not give a damn and respect my views.

Will this ever get better…?!?

I hope so, and I want to believe so. But it feels a bit hard right now.


So there you are – my good old rant! It feels so great to express how I’m feeling and to share that things are hard right now.

I’m sure it will get better in the future, but at the moment it all feels a bit ‘meh’.

I hope you’re in a better place than I, dear friend. Or if not, I hope you have the courage to speak out like me and say ‘I’m not ok, but it’s ok’.

Out of kilter

It’s easy for me to think about and work on being authentic, true to myself and steadfast when I’m in my comfort zone.

It’s another thing to be this when I’m thrown into another dynamic – Christmas with my in-laws, when I feel vulnerable at work, with old friends when I’m trying to be seen in a way that I haven’t myself to be allowed before.

I’m wondering how I might try to be true to myself when I’m slightly out of kilter and feeling a bit unbalanced.

My go-to in the past would be to wrap myself into different forms to fit the situation at hand.

Swallowing my own thoughts and feelings. Showing or feigning interest in other people. Being the ‘happy one’, easy, breezy Amy, go-with-the-flow when I’m not often that sort of person.

I’d drink myself away.

Or secretly eat my feelings in moments of solitude.

I’d worry about being too much or not enough.

And I’d get frustrated with other people for not being like me. Not getting me.

But now I find myself in a different situation.

The people pleasing Amy doesn’t seem to fit me anymore. I feel such a desire to be true to myself, to show the real me.

But I don’t know how to do this in a way that doesn’t cause offence or marginalise other people as I assert myself.

I feel this way much of the time. Walking a tight rope between knowing who I want to be but not knowing how to put that into practice.

And so I find myself seesawing between the ‘me’ of the past and my real self.

One no longer fits and the other doesn’t know how or doesn’t feel safe coming forth.

It’s hard.

Really hard.

But just writing this and acknowledging it makes things easier to bear.

And I hope in me sharing how I’m feeling, you might not feel so alone if things feel similarly hard for you too.

As I sit here pondering on all this, I remember that we’ve just celebrated the winter solstice.

The darkest day of the year.

Now, as the days get lighter, there is promise of new growth, the turning of the seasons, a new start in the new year.

And so I take hope that what I’m longing to see this year – being able to step into my full self – will mature in 2019 and, when Christmas arrives next year I will be able to look back and see how I’ve grown.

And with this thought I wish you and all those you love a very merry Christmas.