A Plan for Me, Not We

Now that everything has changed, suddenly, I have to come up with a new life plan - or something I can plan for, hope for. A plan for me, not we.

But right now, I have a rough (very rough) 5 year plan. Goals that I can set myself, and hopefully achieve before my 30th birthday.

1. Finish my move to Brisbane, into a share house. 
2. Find a job in childcare industry, and get my Cert 3, or possibly my diploma. I have already partially completed my Cert 3 in high school, I just never got an opportunity to finish it. 
3. Begin looking for nannying positions overseas - Europe, UK, USA, or Canada. 
4. Go nannying overseas for 6 months/1 year. Maybe go for 6 months, home for 6 months, and go again for 6 months. 
5. Come home. Get reestablished, find a home of my own. Get a job in the childcare industry. 
6. And finally... have a baby. On my own. Yes, on my own, but ideally, in a co-parent situation. Or, look at fostering.

I know, I know, I don't know what is going to happen in the future. I might find an excellent man and get remarried. But I might not, and I need a plan if that doesn't happen. And to be brutally honest, I don't know if I want a long term relationship with a guy again, at right now, and possibly forever. I don't see myself ever not having men in my life (that is just my personality!), but not in a long term relationship type of way. Growing up, I always wanted a child more than a husband - it is just the way I am. Perhaps instead of forcing myself into a box, I need to look at options outside of it. And one of those options is (for all intents and purposes), to do it on my own. And if I think, and plan for it now, it means I have 5 years to plan, organise, think it through and financially stabilize myself so that my child/ren come into a world where they were not only desperately wanted, but planned and provided for.

I recognise that this plan is hard - and that being a single mother is hard. I recognise that it will bring its own challenges, prejudices and judgements. But nothing in life is guaranteed. I can't wait for that perfect (and frankly, unattainable) man, or postpone my plans, for possibly forever, just so I do it the way others think it should be done. Thankfully, I live in an era where I have the freedom to make another choice. That that choice even exists.

If one dream should fall and break into a thousand pieces, 

never be afraid to pick one of those pieces up and begin again.  

~Flavia Weedn~

Desperate

Lately, I have just been a big ball of anxiety, stress, worry and desperation. I feel that moving out date creeping closer, and I feel so far behind, and out of control. I worry if I am doing the right thing, even though the rational part of me knows that it is a healthy step forward.

 Anxiety tends to be the most difficult, and debilitating demon in my mind. I am always on edge, and nearly always fake otherwise. I have a deep love of organisation - and ultimately, of perfection, but find the process to achieve that organisation and perfection stressful and at times, overwhelming - because after all, perfection is impossible.

For me, as long as it 'looked' pretty from the outside (particularly my marriage), I was ok. I could cope. When cracks appeared, I tried to fix them. But the reality, was so very different. The cracks just got bigger or lingered and grew under the surface, until I was drowning in them.  Until we were drowning in them. Lies and truth became indistinguishable - and one of us thought that lies were preferable to the truth, while the other thought that the lie of the image was more important than the truth that one partner was always lying to them.

With the benefit of hindsight, of course, things become clearer.

But doubt brings desperation, worry, anxiety. The only one I can control is myself.


Jo

The Devil in the Details

I know I can't take one more step towards you

Cause all that's waiting is regret

And don't you know I'm not your ghost anymore?

~ Jar of Hearts, Christina Perri~

Letting go has been a complicated, ever twisting, ever moving milestone. Everytime I think that finally, I am on the right track, it just pops up again - as with anything, the devil is in the details. 

I have been through the process before - of letting go of the person that hurts you - particularly someone that is supposed to love you. It's different this time round, but no less difficult, and no less complicated.  And above all, still equal parts heartbreak and peace. 

Last time, it was not a person I chose to have in my life to begin with, but rather had always been there. This time, it was someone I had chosen, and sometimes it feels like I share a little more of the responsibility for it falling apart the way it did. Regardless of whatever terrible decisions he made, I also made bad ones. Some would say I should have stayed, some say I should have left a long time ago, but I left when the timing was right for us both. We had come to the end of our journey - we weren't moving forward, but were, instead, just stuck. 

And to a degree, it feels like we are still stuck - by our home. Well, my home now, because he does not technically live here anymore. It feels like like he has just gone away on a holiday, even though I know that is not the case, and in fact, just desperately want to feel the opposite. I want things to be ordered, settled, and what is mine to feel like mine, instead of 'ours'. It is no longer we, our, us. It is now just me. 

But the devil is in the details. 

Jo

The Complications of Becoming Fertile

Hi all, 

I was thinking how suddenly - I am not a part of an infertile couple. No longer is my dream so impossible or hard to achieve. It is now possible for me to have a baby the 'old-fashioned' way - perhaps with a little tiny bit of help because of my mild PCOS, but nothing extreme or highly intrusive.

It is strangely both incredibly freeing and saddening, because my former husband won't ever get that opportunity. Others in the infertility world also will never get the second chance that I do. I am just so, so incredibly lucky.

Some part of me will always be thankful for these years facing infertility - it has taught me so much. It has taught me what an amazing gift fertility is and to never, never take it for granted. It has taught me empathy - I can now relate to a whole other world that I, for one, would have never gotten to experience the same way otherwise. It has taught me patience, love, endurance. It made me realise how desperately I want to be a mother, and also, how painful that desperation can be, and just how misunderstood it can be . 

I must admit however, that sometimes, I feel like I am betraying the others that are in the trenches -  while they battle on, I get to walk away. Scarred, certainly, and I will never be the same, but still, walking away. I am sorry for that. Eternally sorry. 

In a strange way - I spent 7 years mourning the children that I could never have with my husband. I can now, finally, lay their ghosts to rest. I can stop wondering what our children would look like, be like. I can just be. 

Jo

Breathing.

When I can't breathe, I tell myself to get through today - just today. And then, when I fear that I won't survive today, I get a phonecall from just the right person, or read just the right sentence. Sometimes, I think surviving life is more about luck - and that little tiny voice of hope... but ultimately, nobody gets out unscathed.

Recently, I read  Eden's most recent post about her experiences in the mental health system. I have been admitted once into a mental health unit  - overnight, after a suicide attempt. I was young, terrified, and very, very out of it. When the next morning came for my 'interview' with the psychologists etc,  I calmly, quietly, talked my way out. Thankfully, I had the arms of my family to run into, but I shudder to think what would have happened if I did not.  Thankfully, now I listen to myself more, and don't let it get to that point - I talk it out, or go for a very long walk with very loud music. It doesn't mean that the idea of suicide has ever left me, or that it ever will, but I have learnt how to manage it better for me...There are awful days, and amazing days and everything in between, but as long as I am alive at the end of them, I have already won. It has taken time, and a lot of hard work, but it is a process. One step at a time, one day a time, and some days, one hour at a time. 

It does get better - cliched, but true. You can find peace with whatever demons are chasing you - but it is a constant process and negotiation. And some days, it is ok to feel that you can't negotiate,   but make sure that you get right back it tomorrow. 

I'm quirky, silly, blunt, and broken. 

My days are sometimes too dark, and my nights are sometimes too long. 

I often trip over my own insecurities. 

I require attention, long for passion, and wish to be desired. 

I use music to speak when words fail me, even though words are as important to me as the air that I breathe. 
I love hard and with all I have... 

And even with all my faults, I am worth loving.

- Danu Grayson -