Yesterday my two selves collided at the top of some steps.
Had a moment in which I asked myself, “What if you don’t descend the stairs and get in the car to join your husband and baby, what if you just walked away?”
Looking after a baby, being a wife, is relentless. Nothing stops. Not the endless to- do lists, not taking care of another, not the having to be ‘at the top of your game’, not the organising. Nothing. Every part of you, every ounce of your energy is consumed by being a mother and a wife. There’s no room to just be yourself, whoever that may be now.
I went to London to stay with a friend overnight on Saturday, usually I try to avoid social situations because well I’m a teacher and I find I spend enough of my time massaging those little egos and attempting to help them negotiate emotional situations without having to do that with adults. This time however, whether I was just functioning on automatic or determined to leave Berkshire (I don’t know which), I went. The reality is my friend and I did nothing more exciting than spend a ridiculous amount of money on snacks, go back to her flat, get into comfortable clothes and watch mindless tv. The next day we got up early and went to a Sunday Sweat session, came home, had breakfast, showered and watched rubbish tv again.
It was amazing. For those few short hours I was able to ‘just be’. I wasn’t a mother or a wife. I was unencumbered. No one needed me. I didn’t have to think about anything that needed doing, that I should be doing. My thoughts, my time and my energy were my own. That wasn’t to say that I didn’t miss my husband or baby, I did, very much so but I had space to breathe.
During this time away I realised that I’ve been low for a while, more than low – angry, felt invisible, taken for granted and voiceless, and it’s taken its toll. Today, full of cold and on my period I am miserable. Rather than being able to be thankful for the so many blessings that I have: a (mostly) caring husband, a gorgeous little 6 month old girl, a roof over my head, clothes on my back, a car to drive, food in the fridge, my health…I could go on and on because I really do have much to be thankful for, I feel broken. While I tell myself it is okay to feel this way, to grieve for my old life, my old body, the person I was before, who my husband and I were to each other, our sex life, my independence, my sense of worth….I so feel guilty, like I am wallowing in self-pity. More, I feel like I have no right to feel negatively about my life because I chose to get married and I chose to have a baby.
I sit here wondering what the answer is to all of this and I am not even sure that this is something to be answered. I am not even sure if there’s even a point to this post, I just know I stood at the top of those stairs and I wondered.
