I remember once when I was a teenager a friend drew cartoons of our group of friends and each had their own catchphrase or thing they said the most.
Mine was “It’s not fair”.
At the time I remember thinking that label wasn’t fair but deep down I knew it was actually quite accurate. As a child I was a whinger and a complainer. I definitely heard the words “Life’s not fair” many many times.
As I’ve got older I’ve grown up and most of the times I keep the smile on my face and look on the brighter side of life. Even though I have PND I am definitely the most cheerful person around these parts most days. A fact I’ve pointed out to Mr C on a couple of occasions.
But tonight. In the middle of the night, 1.44am to be precise. In the third bad night in a row. When Piran is ill and upset and Kate just won’t bloody sleep for some unknown reason. Now I want to rant and rave with all of those it’s not fairs.
It’s not fair that I can’t remember my last full nights sleep. It’s not fair that your babies sleep and mine don’t. It’s not fair that my second baby cried and cried so much that I felt like she didn’t love me. It’s not fair that I still have postnatal depression 19 months after Kate was born. It’s not fair that instead of coming off medication I am increasing it. It’s not fair that I can’t manage to keep this house in order. It’s not fair that everywhere I look I see failure, the chaos, the mess.
It’s not fair that my productive work day just didn’t happen today because my boy was ill. It’s not fair that he wouldn’t let me try and do a little bit of work. It’s not fair that once they were in bed I was too tired to do any writing or any work. It’s not fair that I am now wound up and anxious because I worry about how much I have to do.
It’s not fair that I don’t have the energy or free time to devote to the things that I love to do. It’s not fair that my mum lives 300 miles away when I feel I need her so much. It’s not fair that the majority of people that I have a real connection with live all over the bloody country. Its not fair that my shyness and anxiety make me avoid situations where I might make new friends.
It’s not fair that I’ve hardly spent any time with my husband this year. It’s definitely not fair that the one afternoon we had together was spoiled by him having to go to work. It’s not fair that he has to work so much and so hard.
It’s not fair that I am too tired to do anything about the way that I feel. It’s not fair that I can’t find the time to spend reading the books that were recommended or doing the exercises to help me help myself get better.
Writing this all down, I can see how silly a lot of this sounds. Perhaps those things aren’t very fair but I should count my blessings and see life as it is. We are so fortunate. We have our health, two wonderful children, a beautiful home, many material things, and each other.
But once in a while I think it’s just nice to let that naive spoiled teenager out of her box and just get it all out.
And then, if my kids will ever let me, I can get some sleep.