You Can’t Walk To My House

Thursday, 4 August 2016 Leave a comment

We share our deepest thoughts, fears and desires.

But you can’t walk to my house, we don’t live in the same street.

We have a connection like none I’ve had.

But you can’t drive to see me, we don’t live in the same city.

We plan a happy future of a peaceful home and loving family.

But you can’t come for a weekend, we don’t live in the same country.

Each day I’m here alone, I crave the warmth of a touch, the excitement of a kiss and the intimacy of an embrace.

But I don’t want the touch, kiss or embrace of another, I just want you, my distant lover.

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Categories: Uncategorized

Low self esteem or impostor syndrome

Monday, 11 April 2016 Leave a comment

“Impostor syndrome can be defined as a collection of feelings of inadequacy that persist even in face of information that indicates that the opposite is true. It is experienced internally as chronic self-doubt, and feelings of intellectual fraudulence.”
https://counseling.caltech.edu/general/InfoandResources/Impostor

Despite my level of education, and the hard work I’ve done to get where I am professionally, I feel like a fraud.

No matter how much praise or how many compliments I receive for my work, I am just waiting for them to discover the truth, that I’m not as good at my job that I pretend to be.

I wonder if this also translates to my body image?

I’m what you might call plus size, curvy, thick, fat or obese, depending on your perception of people who are not in the “healthy” weight range.

My social media profile shows only my shoulders and up. I have a longer face, so I probably could pass as having a very different body than I do.

I posted a pretty profile picture yesterday and I got a lot of attention on it.

But I have thick thighs and a tummy.

And I’m scared that if and when people discover what I actually look like, who I really am, they will be shocked, and ultimately they will reject me.

Deep down I feel like ugly and fat people (like me) don’t deserve success and happiness.

Is this impostor syndrome too, or just a low self esteem?

Categories: Uncategorized

Do you believe in love?

Wednesday, 23 March 2016 Leave a comment

If someone told me they had fallen in love with a man from Kenya they’ve never physically met, I would be happy for them, but sceptical.

Yet, here I am, in that position myself.

But I’m feeling low. You see, in order for us to be together in the long term, we will need to spend a lot of time apart in the short to mid term.

Australia is one of the hardest countries in the world to emigrate to and the partner visa pathway requires us (in my interpretation) to either:

a. Be married
b. Intend to be married prior to the visa being granted
c. Have lived together for 12 months immediately prior to lodging the application
d. Have compelling reasons why one of those conditions to be waived (such as being pregnant)

First problem. Visa processing times are 12 months.

Second problem. I’m still married to the father of my child, and I can’t get a divorce for another five months, and since a child is involved it may not be an easy, or quick process.

Third problem. I can’t live in Kenya, because of my child, who does not have a passport and whose father would likely not agree to allowing her to live in another country.

So, it looks like we will be apart for at least 18 more months. And that’s not even taking into account our financial constraints.

So my question is, do you believe in the kind of love that moves heaven and earth to be with each other? Life is too short not to try, right?

Categories: Uncategorized

Politics in schools

Wednesday, 9 March 2016 Leave a comment

Recently there has been heavy politicisation of LGBT+ issues in Australia. I would say that it started recently with the marriage equality debate and has now moved to schools with the introduction of the “Safe Schools” initiative which is a program to encourage acceptance and support for young people in the LGBT+ community. Hundred of schools around Australia have signed onto the scheme.

I was surprised to learn today that the Principal of my school actually believes that the organisations that have developed and promote “Safe Schools” are targetting vulnerable youth for their “political agenda”, and that they are dangerous. She wants to “protect” our children from such propaganda. She spoke of how she has “no problem with gay people (one of [her] friends [are] gay)”, but that she doesn’t believe LGBT+ people should be celebrated. She’s all for acceptance though.

As she is my boss, I didn’t say very much in this meeting, I was honestly shocked that someone I respected and thought so highly of held such old fashioned views. But one thing I did say, in response to her claim that “celebrating” LGBT+ culture could encourage vulnerable youth to adopt something that’s not really them was, “I don’t think anyone would choose to be gay if they weren’t really attracted to people of the same sex”. Her response? Oh but maybe bisexual.

Honestly, how do you respond to such without jeapodising future promotional opportunities?

Categories: Uncategorized

Getting back into it

Saturday, 27 February 2016 4 comments

I’ve posted a few blog posts like this, claiming I’m back.

Anyway, so I’ve decided that it might be a good idea to get back to blogging.

Hi ūüôā

 

To catch you up:

I’ve been a single mum for over six months (my daughter is eight months old). I’m doing okay. My baby girl is adorable, and forming a cheeky personality.

Today she skipped her afternoon nap. I was trying to keep her up until her bed time and started feeding her dinner when she started falling asleep. Poor thing! I decided to bath her and put her down to sleep.

Nope. Now she was overtired. Switching from giggling to crying, arching her back and bouncing her bottom on the bed.

It was simultaneously gorgeous and frustrating!

I took her out to sit on the balcony and watch the traffic below to calm her, and half an hour later I put her in her bed and she fell asleep calmly.

It feels good to know how to calm my baby. But it can be difficult to do what I know she needs when I’m exhausted. And I’d say exhaustion is the hardest part of being a single parent.

I’m exhausted.

I am working full-time now. I get home from a full day at work, and I can’t rest until my baby is asleep, and I have prepared her bottles and lunch for the next day. Sometimes, that’s just in time for my own bed time.

I’m seeing someone. Not physically yet. It’s an online relationship. It’s also been a challenge. But it’s good.

I thought of suicide last weekend.

For some unknown reason (hormones?), I am stronger this weekend.

I’ll write again soon ūüôā

Categories: Uncategorized

Melancholia

Saturday, 5 December 2015 Leave a comment

I sometimes get the urge to cut myself.

I don’t ever follow through though.

I get this urge to release the melancholia and let it ooze out of my body with my blood.

But then I remember that it would hurt, and I don’t want to die.

Categories: Uncategorized

I’m Still Standing

Tuesday, 17 November 2015 8 comments

After what can easily be called the most¬†eventful year (and a bit)¬†of my life, I’m still standing.

August 2014, I fell pregnant.

September 2014, I miscarried.

October 2014, pregnant again, but with early bleeding, I was afraid I’d lose the pregnancy (blogs – Life is fucking cray cray, Anxious).

November 2015, anxiety (blogs –¬†Hospital visit, I’m 9 weeks pregnant today, Anxiety has hit again – TMI).

December 2014, anxiety again¬†(blog –¬†My biggest fear).

I got married!

April 2015, I had interviews for two different jobs. I¬†took the first one I was offered, thinking I wouldn’t get the other. When I received the second¬†offer, I decided to decline the first and accepted the second, a job further away, but I felt a better rapport with the boss. I started my new job. My dream job. My husband, still out of work, became more surly than usual.

June 2015, I asked my husband to leave. I was 36 weeks pregnant. I asked him not to be there when I got home from work. I was concerned that my baby’s growth¬†had slowed, and he seemed unconcerned about trying to help keep my stress levels down. He made me cry. Even when I begged him to think how the stress and the hurtful things he said to me would affect our baby.

He stayed with a friend until, not even a week later, he was kicked out and begged to come back. I agreed to take him back on the condition that he see a psychologist for at least ten sessions for his depression. I hoped that a psychologist would help him address his alcohol dependence.

At 38 weeks pregnant, the hospital was concerned. My baby was footling breech presentation and was only on the 5th centile in size. They scheduled a C-section at 38 weeks 4 days.

Midnight before my scheduled C-section, my waters broke and I went into labour. My baby girl was born via emergency C-section at 1:41 AM (blog – Birth story).

My husband resented coming to visit me in the hospital. I felt alone. Isolated. Overwhelmed.¬†I stayed for five days. They let me stay because I was crying. I was afraid to go home with him. I didn’t know how I’d cope with a baby as well as¬†his drinking and silent treatment.

The day I was discharged he picked me up from the hospital. He was impatient that they were taking so long with the paperwork. I felt on edge, hoping they’d hurry up so he wouldn’t be in a bad mood when we got home. He hated hospitals. I felt anxious. When¬†we got home early afternoon, I got out of the car and walked into the house. It felt cold. He went upstairs to sleep. I sat on the couch and felt terrified. What do I do now? How am I going to care for this baby? I decided we both needed to rest, so I took her upstairs to start settling her to sleep. He wasn’t tired anymore and went downstairs.

July 2015, the next six weeks were a blur. I decided at that time that I would never have another baby. I wondered why people had more than one child; how did they cope? I was afraid to leave the house without help. Breastfeeding was excruciating. I felt like a failure when she cried. My husband helped sometimes. He loved her.

August 2015, I came out of my fog. My husband got a job. I celebrated small milestones. I cooked dinner. Winning. I did the laundry and put away the baby’s clothes. Winning. I prepared some meals in advance. Winning.¬†I was able to drive places without help. I visited people. I felt human. My husband was happy.

My baby got sick. I took her to hospital, and even though they hadn’t detected an infection, they offered that we could stay the night for monitoring. I didn’t want to go home because my husband had a cold, and¬†wasn’t happy any more.

The nurse took her for the night and settled her to sleep and brought her to me every 3 hours for a feed. I slept.¬†I felt great the next morning and went home.¬†At the follow up appointment the next day, they admitted us again as an infection was found in my baby’s urine. I asked my husband to bring nappies and a¬†few changes of clothes for the baby when he came home from work. ¬†He felt sick and had no money for petrol. I asked mum. He got angry and said he’d come. He forgot my phone charger and I saw him approach the nurses and was charming and pleasant. He brought the borrowed charger in to me and spoke to me in gruff tones. What had I done?

My husband lost his driver’s license, received a defect notice on his car and lost his¬†job.

I left him. I was afraid to be at home with him, with my baby, while he drunk from 7:00 AM and ignored me.

I stayed with mum. He texted me asking me when I was coming home. I told him I wasn’t. He left. He left Australia. I packed up the house and put everything in storage. I stayed with mum.

September 2015, My baby got sick again. She had an allergy to cow’s milk protein in my breast milk. I cut dairy out of my diet. She got better.

October 2015, I started back at work part-time. I found a lovely lady to care for my baby two days a week and mum took her the other day. I began to feed some formula as my supply dropped from changed diet and expressing at work.

November 2015, I have now been approved for a small unit close to work. It will just be the two of us, so we will fit. It’s lovely and fresh and close to everything. I’ve stopped breastfeeding. She is thriving and happy.

And I’m still standing.