Monday, April 11, 2011

Loosing Myself

I know, I know, I've been quiet... there's so many reasons why, partly coz most of the time I feel so lost I don't really know what to say, I don't think it's truly hit me just yet and I've been so down that I don't even think I could find a hint of humour or wit in me to cover up my somber posts. Then I stopped and realised if you don't like what you read don't read it because at the moment I am extremely angry, angry at the asshole (I don't think I need to explain who that is), angry at God, angry at life, angry at karma, angry at the earth and angry at myself.

But don't despair this post isn't about gloom and doom, I'm gonna share with you some rather strange moments that are proof that I am loosing myself, my essential core of who I am, my personality and all  rational thinking.

Everyday, on the way to work, my dad stops at a petrol station to buy the usual, milk and water for the office and it's amazing if you just take note of the things around you how many people you actually see on a daily basis but are to absorbed in yourself to notice. Well I started noticing (mostly coz everybody else looks so happy lately) and there is this man and everyday he sits at a table at the petrol station, with a take-away coffee, with his ciggies next to it and reading the daily newspaper. Obviously waiting for his lift, but he never looks impatient, or rushed, or unhappy, he always looks perfectly content sitting with his coffee, smokes and newspaper. So the other day it had been raining so his usual table was extremely wet and he was trying to push most of the water off with a piece of plastic and then it happened... he knocked over his cup of coffee, he hadn't even taken a sip and all over his ciggie's and still he looked calm and content and I was crying like  baby. I wanted to save this man from his misfortune and buy him another cup of coffee. My heart sank, it felt so unfair, why him, all he wanted was to read his newspaper, drink his coffee and smoke his first ciggie for the day.

Another bizarre story is one that is ridiculous and hilarious but also made me realise why i might be so upset about having a baby. My sister has called me Jebear since I can remember. She's the only one who does and I guess it only makes sense to us or maybe just me. Well the other day, as they always do, everyone was trying to cheer me up about peanut and I was having a really, really bad day. Somewhere along the line, my sister piped up and said "Why don't we call it Bear" - I looked at her and started crying and said "but i'm Bear" and continued with those unflattering, uncontrollable sobs. And they all just looked at me, then at each other and just hugged me. I know it's ridiculous and not something any 23 year old should be admitting but it made me think. I'm not scared of having a baby, I know I'm going to love it, I already do and I know nothing will ever come before it once it's here. I'm scared of loosing myself, becoming invisible, becoming second not only to myself but to the people around me. I won't be me anymore, I'll be somebody's mother, people won't want to see me, they going to want to see the baby. Christmas, birthdays, easter.... it's no longer me and what I want it's all about this baby and the part that scares me the most I have no control over this and I won't even be upset that it's happening because I'll become wired into loving this child no matter what. I love control, I need control, who am I if not in control.


  1. We will only adore this child because its YOUR child.

  2. At Christmas and stuff, I always open the kids' things first. I don't actually give a fuck what is under the tree for me. I just want to see what cute outfit my kid is gonna be wearing next or what toy he's gonna dig and make him laugh.
    You don't actually care about yourself as much, but in a good way. When we go shopping, I walk past all the "me" stuff and I'm like "oh my god, how much would Noah love this little bike?"
    It's rad.
    You'll still be you, just busier and more loving & caring with shifted priorities.
    Keep writing!