Confessions Of A Chronically Ill Mum #21

November 6, 2022 — Leave a comment

Yesterday was a bit of a pity party – sometimes we’re allowed to have those. As long as you don’t outstay your welcome at the party, you know, make sure you leave before the sun comes up. It’s totally justified to indulge in self pity once in a while, when life feels too much and you’re overwhelmed, and everything’s going wrong or you’re unwell. The idea of being positive all the time really can feel quite toxic. I’ve been feeling lonely, as though my circle has shrunk to such a minutiae and I’m struggling to find anyone to reach out to that I haven’t bored to tears with my problems a million times already.

In the space between my last update and now, so much has happened. Too much. I will never have the short hand speed or memory to recite it all. Today though, I ‘dusted myself off’ it’s been a week in the making, because for the last 5 days I have slobbed about half naked, nursing a sick baby and struggling to get on top of my own ailments.

I guess the most notable thing to happen and served to also be most terrifying, is my son’s recent contraction of Hand Foot and Mouth Disease. A ‘mild’ childhood illness that’s extremely contagious and turned out not to be very mild at all. Don’t get me wrong, he’s recovering well, but the symptoms were savage. He had a high fever for days, constant vomiting and was writhing in agony from the blistering rash that covered most of his body not just his hands, feet and mouth. It was awful to watch. It took us two days to be seen by a doctor and over a week for his symptoms to dissipate.

Secondly, and more life changing…. I handed in my notice at work. For years now I have been trying to hold down a job that requires me to be present during the core hours of 9-5. As a sick person who is also a parent, I have found this almost impossible. Since having Kaiser and the landslide both my mental and physical health took, it became really impossible. Because, not only am I shit out of luck with childcare, I’m always ill. Meaning, somedays I’m not able to function prior to 11am and other days it’s 8pm before my brain has travelled through and out the other side of its’ fog.

It wasn’t a decision I made lightly. I mean who in their right mind would quit their job during an economic crisis, right? But I really did feel I had no choice in the end. Despite my employer really trying to support me, my own sickness absence, on top of dependants leave to compensate nursery closures and childhood illnesses, remained high. Since starting HRT my memory has been awful, my mental health is fragile at best, and physically I still cannot sit or stand for any duration without being in real pain. I didn’t want to leave my job, but something had to give and I’m not well. I haven’t been well for years. I’ve pushed through until now, for the bare minimum and it has had a detrimental effect on my whole life.

Silly really, but I sat with my hand hovering over the keyboard for ages before taking the plunge to post this. There are so many parts of me that feel as though I’ve failed. As a wife, and as a mother. Some moments I think the guilt will swallow me whole. I’ve agonised over what people will think and indeed whether or not I’ll be able to feed my children without a stable income.

That said, I made this decision with the help of my family because we believe it is the right one for us. I’ve realised it’s not that I can’t work at all, it’s that I need to be able to work around my health and my parental responsibilities. Unfortunately life doesn’t offer many opportunities for disabled parents to be able to do that. However, I’ve recently put my heart and soul into the charity work I’ve been doing for PMDD and I plan to continue to do this, while also trying, once again, to make my writing work for me. So if you’re after some copy, a CV, or are interested in having me write an article for you, please get in touch!

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When losers win.

December 8, 2019 — Leave a comment

I have always been the girl, who never does anything extraordinary. Never got nominated for anything in school. Never got a part in the school play even though drama is my forte, because I didn’t put myself forward. I didn’t raise my hand to answer questions even though I knew the answer. I didn’t stay for after school clubs in my favourite subjects because I was more interested in smoking weed and playing spin the bottle (that’s a euphemism for whatever the fuck I liked) When I didn’t know the answers I didn’t seek to learn them. I didn’t like rules and I didn’t get the right kind of attention, any attention I did get was for the wrong reasons. My attitude took a long time to change and I’m still learning from the bad decisions I’ve made, and I’ve made plenty.

When my first stint at secondary school didn’t work out and I moved on to the next one I didn’t get praise for good work, I got chastised for bad work.

When I got my one and only A in GSCE I didn’t get told well done. I got told I could of done better in other subjects, if I’d have only worked harder.

When I went to work and had time off sick because my mental health can’t always be relied upon to remain ‘normal’ enough for me to function at full capacity all of the time, I got told I would never excel in my career if I couldn’t show up. I got told to suck it up and do better.

When I got diagnosed with a physical condition I had to take a lesser paid and much lesser privileged job, because I wasn’t deemed reliable enough to do important work. Suffice to say I left that job.

So when I won this award today, it wasn’t a victory because I was awarded winner status. It wasn’t a cash prize or a holiday to the Maldives. It was just a certificate, but it was a certificate rewarding my effort.

It was a victory because I won it doing what I love (writing) and it’s a potential doorway to another realm, one where hope exists and efforts are recognised. One where I’m good enough. It was a small award for a reasonably well read blog, but one day it might be a big award for a bestselling book (never say never) and even if it’s not, it doesn’t matter, because it’s given me the confidence boost needed to pursue a passion. It was a reminder that you can do whatever you want, we have the power to change our futures if we’re willing to give things a try.

Take a chance on yourself, it might not pay off, but it’s a lovely way to learn more about where your strengths are. We can’t all be good at everything but it helps if we like what we are good at.

So my apologies for milking this day to high heaven, but for the first time in my life I feel like a winner. 🥳

Mindfulness

May 14, 2019 — Leave a comment

As a rule I’m not very good at mindfulness. I don’t practise it anywhere near as often as I should. I know it’s proven to work for millions of people and I am trying to warm to it, but I’ve always been a bit skeptical assuming it borders on hippyish and that’s just not me.

However I realise now I’m wrong and actually it can be as simple as getting outside for ten minutes a day and taking stock.

Today I sat by the river working on my novel and applying for yet more jobs. Feeling absolutely exhausted with corporate bollocks and rejection. I’ve been attending interviews like it’s my full time job and I’m starting to take the knock backs personally.

If you know me, you’ll know I take everything to heart and have a real complex around rejection. I decided instead to try and be rational. Give myself some time to take in the beauty of today. I know it sounds über cheesy and it’s not what you think. I don’t chant mantras or meditate (not that there’s anything wrong with those things, it’s just not very me) instead I just sat watching the river, listening to the running water of the weir and gave myself a bit of a pep talk. I always try and be thankful for the big and small things in my life. Like I have a roof over my head, a beautiful family, we don’t live on the bread line (even if we are always skint) and it was important for me to remind myself of these things today. I am a professional, I will find a job that suits me soon, it’s just taking longer than I anticipated but that’s ok.

Mindfulness is about being present, focusing on your surroundings and calmly accepting your feelings. So that’s what I did and I felt all the better for it! I was only sat there an hour, it gave me just enough time to write a synopsis and edit my copy to 3000 words. It was also enough time to feel like I’d had a break, got outdoors, took in the fresh air and got a bit of ‘me’ time in. The sunshine helps and maybe I wouldn’t of made the effort to be mindful if I’d been stuck indoors, but I plan to, going forward to get in a few minutes of mindfulness everyday.

My experience so far as a SAHM

February 13, 2019 — Leave a comment

Really, another mother fuck load of washing? Really? What did we do when I was at work, wear dirty clothes? Looks like we did, because I sure as shit didn’t do this much washing on the 9-5!!

Oh look a sea of crumbs, but I have literally just fucking hoovered damn it. Knock knock, it’s my neighbour at the door, telling me they are about to do some renovation works, should only last three weeks though. So whilst I’m trying to write a fucking book, I can be sure to concentrate at the sound of hammering and drilling, throw in a whiney toddler and we’re away.

Wow those tiles are grubby, no worries I’ll watch a Mrs Hinch video, then get on with it. Oh is that the time? Time to go and pick the little lady up from preschool, better get something for tea on the way home too, oh shit and I need to post that parcel, it’s that dress I paid over the odds for but am selling on eBay for $3, because, well I need a clear out, better than it going to waste….. Get home, cook tea whilst intermittently shouting at toddler, or rather getting shouted at, for not meeting her unreasonable demands. You know, like she wanted a blue cup instead of a pink one!

Fiancé walks in, serve up tea, eat tea, clear up tea, bath toddler, put toddler to bed, and COLLAPSE.

My point is, I used to look at mums that stayed at home and think they had it easy. They don’t. I used to look at their life and imagine Jeremy Kyle on repeat. I used to think they sat around, smoking fags waiting to pick their kids up. Why was I such a judgemental asshole? How did I judge people I knew nothing about? The people that are the adhesive holding their families together. Running around, cooking, cleaning, walking the dog, doing every single errand asked of them, because of course if they didn’t it would look like they really did have too much time on their hands. God forbid they sit down and actually drink a hot coffee. And when they do, on queue comes the question, what have you been doing all day?

Now let us not take away from working mums. They sure as shit have their work cut out too, and this is by NO means whatsoever, trying to belittle what those Boss Mama’s have going on. I just wanted to shout out a little to the ones that stay at home, and basically back track my earlier thoughts of them. I couldn’t of been more wrong!!!

For me, giving up my job was supposed to be a new start on the road to my writing career taking off, whilst giving me time to manage my illness and save on childcare. Of course it has it’s pro’s, I get to spend days with Ciara, and on the days I’m not with her I get to pick her up and hear all about her day first hand. I also get to make sure there aren’t any whites hidden in with the dark wash. It’s like anything, of course, pros and cons. Loads of pros, equally as many cons, but anything a mum does is HARD!! A mum’s job is a hard one. Whether you spend every waking moment with your babies, go to work all day, or sit in your pj’s watching Jeremy Kyle. When you’re doing what’s best for you, you’re doing what’s best for your kids. A happy mum is a happy kid.

What makes a writer, a good one?

February 7, 2019 — 1 Comment

What makes someone a good writer?

Is it the difference between being able to write a poem, or a book? Do you need to be able to do both in order to demonstrate capability? Or is it someone who writes only in the Queen’s English?

The answer to all the above questions are of course no. The definition of a ‘good’ writer has no bounds. It’s not determined by ‘one size fits all’ its versatile.

Much like myself. I like to write both stories, and poetry, and as you know I’m a huge fan of a blog post or 6. I started blogging mainly to document my pregnancy back some three years ago now. I know, another ‘mum’ blog – insert eye roll emoji at your will. But, in my defence I had a pretty interesting story. It wasn’t your bog standard birthing book that’s for sure. Since then, I’ve been reminded of my passion for words and literacy. My abilities aren’t superior, I don’t write in the Queen’s English (although I am a bit of a grammar nerd) but that’s not necessarily what defines my style of writing. Since studying copywriting I’ve learnt nothing, accept how ‘not’ to use her majesty’s Royal ‘we.’ Words aren’t what make a writer. The message is what maketh the writer. If you can connect with your audience, whoever that might be, then you yourself are what I like to call a good writer. Whatever your chosen writing style, and it may change along the way, whatever it is only matters to the person who’s reading it.

So when you’re filling out your CV don’t be bland and boring just because it’s formatted, connect with your reader, explain your skills and what you bring to the table with passion. The ability to sell yourself is something most people assume a writer doesn’t need. WRONG. Even introverted writers, write to connect! The message needs to be powerful, bold and from a place of passion. Whether it’s to sell holidays in the Caribbean or writing the next best seller. Know who’s reading, and talk to them, through the words on your page. I know my linked in profile is professional, but I try to link my personal and professional life in order to make me an honest candidate for any new job application. I know not everyone reading my blogs will relate, nor will they love me for them, but they’ll get to know me, because that’s who I’m selling, and it’s all done with the power of words.

Winging it

January 28, 2019

When I decided to resign from my job I was excited, full of hope at all the spare time I’d have to write. Truth is I have absolutely no spare time, there’s ALWAYS something to do at home. At work, it’s just your job that needs doing until you get home, at home all day and it’s the dishes, the washing, the dust on the skirting boards, the charity shop clothes bags, the shopping, the planning and prepping dinner from scratch etc.

How did I manage that before you ask? I didn’t.

Before, I didn’t do the shopping, well not physically anyway. Amazon pantry was my bff along with whichever super market had the best BOGOFF deals. Before, I didn’t clean the skirting boards or do the sorting for the charity shops, I just lived in a mess. So why am I doing it now? Because it does need doing, and now I don’t have a hard day’s work an as excuse as to why I’m not getting it done.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining, it’s great that I have time to do all this stuff, but I have found little if no time at all to write, study, or do any of the things I said I was going to do.

When I was working, my mum did the school runs, Shaun did the washing, we ate from jars, and the shopping was delivered at a time of my choosing. But I find, rightly or wrongly, it’s expected of you to get things done if ‘You’re at home all day’ remember though, we’re still doing school run’s or looking after little people, we’re still trying (at least I am) to get some work done.

I can actually take an oath that I haven’t watch a SINGLE episode of Jeremy Kyle since leaving work. I have however, caught up on Lose Women on more than one occasion.

I really miss the social bustle of working for a large organisation and I’ve gone from feeling excited to feeling scared and at times lonely.

I want to be successful in my work, my parenting, my social groups, managing my health. I want people to believe I have it all covered from the every angle, but of course I don’t. I’m 100% winging it, with little guidance accept the online world of other mum’s who’ve followed their passions and my family and friends. The few people in my life that truly have my back, the ones that want to see me succeed are at the forefront of my mind every time I feel like quitting.

I may never succeed in my dream to write a novel, but I sure as shit won’t, if I don’t even try.

So it’s with a slight wobble I’m reminding you (and myself) to keep going. To let your creativity drive you in whatever form you find it. To keep at it because mama’s don’t quit and diva’s don’t lie down.

I will tell myself and you, everyday if I have to, that WE have got this.

And when we don’t got it, there’s always Guinness.

Diva Mum

Sharing my life in sickness and in health.

writer life