Friday, June 16, 2017


There are plenty of reasons for me not to write; I have a two-year-old and a three-year-old... okay, if that alone doesn't make you gasp you are not paying attention: I deliberately had my children close together so that for half the year I could get awed sympathy at my ridiculously difficult situation.  I also work part-time, am lazy, unfit and a problem drinker.

But more often than not the real problem is not that I don't have time to write, or even that I am lacking the energy to write, and certainly not that I don't have anything to write... it is that... I am NOT FUCKING WRITING THAT.

A few years ago I declared that I wanted no further therapy, no more tinkering-with-my-psyche; my neuroses were nicely balanced and they could stay as they were.  Since then I have had children, and they have of course played havoc with that precarious balance.  Second child, had soon-after-first,
 - with all the subsequent hormonal upset and bodily trauma, plus first-child's jealousy and an ill-timed rash of other bad-luck - brought with her dear self a not-dear bout of Post Natal Depression.  So that's all been hard work, to say the least.

But what I am occasionally aware of, quite unbidden, is the knowledge that there is more.  That there lurk within me older, darker hurts.  Being aware of my luck, my privilege in life - not only as a middle-class white person, but specifically as someone who did not suffer childhood abuse (knowing too many people who did) - I don't like to count myself as someone who has suffered trauma.  But quite frankly, dear reader, I have.

Sometimes I think we all have.  Sometimes I think it is the fate of womankind.  And oftentimes I believe that I am just over-thinking things and feeling sorry for myself, like the rest of my self-obsessed generation.  But my reality is there are things done to me, against me, that have scarred me... and I just don't want to go there.  It's not only that I don't want to share these hurts publicly, it's that I don't want to feel them.  I can't afford to: I am trying to enjoy, love, and be there for my children.

I know I can't love them 100% while these hurts are there, but I am also sure that I don't have time to deal with them now.  There is just too much.  I must bury them and be a half-way decent mother and enjoy their so precious, so fleeting, and so important early years while they briefly exist... and maybe fix these things later.  I did try to fix myself before I had children, I really did.  I just didn't know all these hurts were there.

For now I am attempting to perform a psychological triage: work out what I can fix now to be a better parent; what can wait; and what can be buried forever.  After-all, how far can a person really delve?  I could get so lost in the abyss that I could spend my life improving myself, and never really get the chance to live.


  1. One of my favourite sayings is something like this:
    "Be kind, because everyone you meet is carrying a huge burden".
    That you can understand yourself so well, and express it so clearly and intelligently, and you know your priorities in life, I think you are way ahead of the pack, and your life should just become richer and more fulfilling as time goes by. Delving and doubt are just part of life. xx

  2. Beautifully written my beautiful cousin xx