So apparently it’s been around two years since my last blog post. I’m not sure why I stopped, and I’m not exactly sure if I’m ‘starting’ again. But I am writing now.
Two years and I could say it doesn’t feel like much has changed…but that would be a lie. I think I’m finally making progress. I still have dark times and hopeless times and times where the world is caving in on me (and times when I want it to), but if I compare who I am now with who I was two years ago, I think there has been improvement.
To start with, I’m more confident. I joined a gym recently (which was terrifying but I’m so glad I did it) and that has helped me feel a lot better about myself. I’m still overweight and to my own eyes unattractive, but exercise has helped me feel more attractive, and even though I recognise these things take time I know I’m on a track to having a body that will no longer repulse me. Another benefit of going to the gym is that I have something in my life that is mine, something that I’m doing by myself and for myself. This is my thing, my place, somewhere I don’t have to worry about the children. My husband has been really supportive of me doing this even though it gives us less time together and I appreciate that.
My sister had a baby recently and that’s given me more of a sense of purpose. Whenever I hold him I remember that actually this is something I have achieved- having children. Even though I often feel like a complete failure as a mother, my children are alive and generally happy, so that’s a kind of success, right? I know I don’t take them out as much as other mothers or do as much with them, but they know I love them (I hope) and as time goes by I am venturing further from my comfort zone (or maybe it’s more accurate to say that my comfort zone is expanding).
My parents are officially divorced now. Even though that still hurts I think I’m through my grieving period. I rarely talk to my mum anymore but I’m done grieving the loss of that relationship too, I think. Sure, I wish I had a mother I could talk to, but the fact is I don’t really. She hasn’t acted like a mother in a long time and I think I’ve accepted that as much as I can. The pain won’t ever go away completely. I still find it hard to say her name, and I’ve come to the realisation that that might be because I don’t view her as my mother, so calling her ‘mum’ feels like a physical barrier in my throat/head that I have to make a concerted effort to bypass. My dad is also moving house in a few weeks and that is something I’m finding pretty difficult. I am angry at my mum for (in my view) forcing him to sell the house because of her own selfish desires. She could have settled differently. But what’s done is done and now he has sold the home I grew up in from the age of 8. I avoid thinking about it too much because that pain is still very raw and difficult. I think though that this has helped sever my relationship with my mother. Our relationship was getting better but since she’s done this I have felt more anger towards her that I can’t articulate to her, so I’ve kind of given up trying and settled for the fake, superficial relationship I swore I would never have with her.
Anyway. That stuff is pretty negative so I’m going to move this post on to other things. My marriage is still strong. We’ve had our issues and it’s not easy but I’m definitely happy at the moment so that’s a very good thing. My insecurities are not gone but they have faded considerably, and they attack me much more intermittently.
I don’t know what else to say really. It’s felt good to write again, and I’ve enjoyed it.
Until the next time…