I’m on holiday this week – normal service will resume next week!
I’m on holiday this week – normal service will resume next week!
All of the happy things for June 2019! Except the weather. What happened to the sunshine?! (Well, apart from one brief day. It’s like it decided to remind everyone what we were missing…)
A lovely friend has sent me all the llamas! (And a nature-y notebook, which is lined and lovely.)
It’s actually the same friend who sent me the brooch; it’s a bit of an odd friendship, but so far, I think we’re making it work! It’s really nice to get cards in the post anyhow, and I’ve been sending them things too – and now this means I get to choose and send another ridiculous card! How does one improve on llamas? A sloth, maybe?
Not a happy thing per se; I had one of the worst panic attacks I’ve had for a while this month, set off by what should have been a small stress – but if nothing else, it did show me that I can cope with them! My partner was amazing too, which helped so much. It sucks to have one and I’m so frustrated that after so long of feeling ok, my brain is being dumb… but I know that I can cope.
Actually, I’ve finished all the stories! I’ve uploaded the final installment of The Summer Knight on Wattpad, which means my Dresden Files writing is now done. It starts at The Envoy if you want some quick reading in an urban fantasy universe!
We built a thing! The fences in the garden had blown down a few months back in the bad storm, and I’d deconstructed them (well, the wind did most of it) and stacked the wood… and then had an idea to built a bike shelter out of them to keep the rain (and pigeon poop) off the bikes. So we spent a sunny Saturday out in the garden with a saw and a tape measure and various spiders and woodlice and a lot of screws, and we built a thing! It felt so good to be using those skills again, and to be able to look at something and go “yes, I see the problem, we need MOAR SCREWS” because over-engineering something is always the best solution.
Well, it was either that or duct tape.
And on a side note for a happy thing; being out in the garden. It’s lovely dappled shade and it was beautiful.
I blame Sean at work.
Disclaimer: a personal post, not about writing or books! This is something that I’ve been mulling over for a year or so (or longer) now, and I felt like it’s a subject that maybe doesn’t get discussed as much as it could. So… post.
I always just accepted that having children was something I was going to do… because I didn’t have a reason to not do it. It was part of the accepted course – grow up, go to Uni, find a career, meet someone, get married and have a big wedding, get a house, have children. And I had no reason to deviate from that: it was’t that I necessarily wanted to do it all, but I didn’t have a desire to not do any of those things.
It wasn’t that I never had a choice, either. I’ve got wonderful role models for having children and for being child-free in my family: we’ve had divorces and remarriage and children and step-children and no children, and everyone has always been very accepting of every choice and path. (Also, thank fuck no one in my family has ever been the “so when are you having children?” type. I don’t respond well to that.)
But I never really thought about it. I never had a concrete reason to not go down down any of the expected paths, so it was just… what I’d be doing. It always felt like to not pick any of them, I needed a reason; and there’s plenty of good valid reasons out there, but I just didn’t have any of them. So… I was doing the things. I did Uni, I did “meet someone”, I did A Wedding (which, incidentally, I hated; it still ranks as the two most stressful days of my life) and I did Buy A House (with an additional side of DIY, which I love.)
And not having children became a real, heart-breaking, soul-healing CHOICE.
The idea that I could not have children hurts. I wanted them: it was frustrating and heart-breaking to get close and then not know what went wrong, to not know why my body won’t carry longer than 12 weeks. It’s been heart-breaking and lovely and sweet over the past few years, too, seeing friends have children: I get to cuddle a friend’s baby, play with a toddler, teach a five-year old Dumb Ways To Die, play Sushi Go with an eight-year old, pick stickers for a ten-year-old. I get to see what I’m missing out on. I get to see the life I could have had.
And I also get to see the downsides. I get to see the sleepless nights and tantrums about pigtails. I get to wonder what hauling a buggy and toddler back from town would be like when I’m already tired. I look at the school run chaos, the chatter and gossip, and feel grateful that I don’t have to be social. I get to see the stresses and the strains as well as the smiles.
And I think that had been the deciding factor. I have mental health problems, and by now it’s obvious to me that I always will. My depression is mild, but it is always lurking. Even my good weeks have the occasional bad day. My anxiety is always someplace around, too. I live with both and cope with both, but…
There’s also the wider world; it scares me a lot, both with the politics and the climate. Is it fair to add to an already-burdened system? Do I want my children to grow up to a world that seems quite so horrific? I am sincerely hoping that we can change it, but currently, it’s pretty bleak. And that adds another layer onto something that feels like a solid choice.
Do I want to bring a child into this situation? Would I be able to provide the best care and home that I’d want?
And I would. I could. If I had a child, now, then I’d provide the most loving and bestest home that I am able to. But if I don’t have to; if I have a choice – then the better choice, for both me and the child, is to not.
It hurts. But it’s a decision, and it’s one that everyone should be making – for themselves, and their own circumstances.
A colleague at work has been teasing me for being A Scary Librarian, and then sent me this… I might have winced a few times.
What’s going on in May?
I AM OFFICIALLY THE DUCHESS OF SASSYTOWN.
And I got cake. NOM.
I hate having fuss made for birthdays – or Christmas, or any event for that matter – and so birthdays are always something of an ordeal before people get to know me. However, this year was great! I made cake (excellent for diverting attention, and also feeding people) and had a chilled evening in with my partner.
And I had excellent presents – socks! Computer games! No books, thankfully. I already have more than enough books.
(I know, I know, but seriously. I have 30 on my slush pile at work and at least 20 here and I know I always need more but… one of the perils of working in publishing is that you get swamped with books!)
Yes, it’s a month late…but I did an Easter Egg hunt for my partner, and they just found the last one! It made me laugh a lot. They were all hidden in plain sight, as it were…but it’s obviously a corner they don’t look in too often!
I’m typing this while sitting on the floor, my back against the sofa. My partner’s playing something random, snowy and involving dying of hunger (if you’re not eaten by wolves first…it sounds quite tense.) I’ve got a favourite playlist on, my notebook by my knees, a teacup on the table. It all feels so comforting and quiet and normal; like sinking into a warm duvet, and being able to breathe out for the first time in a while.
I’m very much hoping that it leads to some more writing; the ideas are there, but they just haven’t been coming out! Here’s hoping…
My Dresden Files fanfic is still rumbling on; it’s actually nearly done with the final story, which is one of my favourites, and I really enjoyed writing. I’m going to leave it all up on Wattpad when it’s done, but the first story (The Envoy) is here, and the current one (Rogue Wizard) is here if you feel you need something extra to read!