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Drawing short straws

1
Do you ever feel like your scrambling in the dark just waiting for the next short straw to be handed to you? That is the only way I can describe this feeling I have at the moment. It’s a poor me feeling. I feel shrouded in self pity. I woke up Monday in the throes of a severe flare up in my Fibromyalgia symptoms and it left me bed bound for two days. Ciara’s now at an age where she understands when Mummy isn’t on top form, so pour on some mum guilt to my already flailing self esteem. I’ve been applying for jobs left, right, up, down and centre
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and I can’t seem to find anyone who wants me, or if they do I can’t offer them the hours they need. Boring isn’t it? The constant battle of childcare affordability, and work. The lack of flexibility for parents everywhere is nothing less than an emotional drain. Each day tearing a few more strips off of mum’s and dads trying to do their best by their kids and pay the rent on time. Then today just to add to my disdain and misfortune a bailiff turned up at my door demanding £423 for an unpaid parking fine. A parking fine I didn’t even know I
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had, as the letters had been going to my old address. So add shit credit score into the mix of things to be pissed off about, and a bigger credit card bill sees the aftermath of paying said debt. Never in my life have I missed a payment for anything, I’ve never even had a red letter. I was MORTIFIED.

So what do we have now? What started as a little flare up of my illness has now grown arms and legs and turned into an avalanche of anxiety, money worries and stress. Do you ever feel like a switch gets flipped and your world as you know it just starts

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to disintegrate around you? And the guilt! The physical gut wrenching guilt I feel at my audacity to feel this bad over my ‘first world’ problems, is like a punch in the face. How dare you feel this shit about life? So many people have it worse! Yes…. that’s true, of course it could ALWAYS be worse, but can we just take a minute and stop telling each other what to feel? I feel shit. It is allowed!

Ive been guilty myself of rolling my eyes at another moany Facebook status, but in reality does it really matter if someone wants to have a good

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moan to let out their emotions and try and find a way through the funk? We preach on social media all the time about supporting one another, but have you noticed when someone moans about their life the majority of us just turn our noses up instead of offering any support? (I include myself in this) We cast people aside as negative, when in reality all they might need is a cuppa and a moan with their mate in order to see a little clearer, and move forward with some new found positivity! So for that reason, I am taking a new stance on moaning! In fact,
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I’m going to actively encourage it! Having a shit day? Come and tell auntie Steph about it and we can moan and use expletives together. Let’s stop berating each other in a bid to see who has it worse and start trying to make each other smile, through the utter shit show that is life sometimes. After all, it’s not a beauty contest is it? It’s not winner takes all competition? It’s life, and sometimes life is hard.
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Diva Mum

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- 2 May 19

Do you ever feel like your scrambling in the dark just waiting for the next short straw to be handed to you? That is the only way I can describe this feeling I have at the moment. It’s a poor me feeling. I feel shrouded in self pity. I woke up Monday in the throes of a severe flare up in my Fibromyalgia symptoms and it left me bed bound for two days. Ciara’s now at an age where she understands when Mummy isn’t on top form, so pour on some mum guilt to my already flailing self esteem. I’ve been applying for jobs left, right, up, down and centre and I can’t seem to find anyone who wants me, or if they do I can’t offer them the hours they need. Boring isn’t it? The constant battle of childcare affordability, and work. The lack of flexibility for parents everywhere is nothing less than an emotional drain. Each day tearing a few more strips off of mum’s and dads trying to do their best by their kids and pay the rent on time. Then today just to add to my disdain and misfortune a bailiff turned up at my door demanding £423 for an unpaid parking fine. A parking fine I didn’t even know I had, as the letters had been going to my old address. So add shit credit score into the mix of things to be pissed off about, and a bigger credit card bill sees the aftermath of paying said debt. Never in my life have I missed a payment for anything, I’ve never even had a red letter. I was MORTIFIED.

So what do we have now? What started as a little flare up of my illness has now grown arms and legs and turned into an avalanche of anxiety, money worries and stress. Do you ever feel like a switch gets flipped and your world as you know it just starts to disintegrate around you? And the guilt! The physical gut wrenching guilt I feel at my audacity to feel this bad over my ‘first world’ problems, is like a punch in the face. How dare you feel this shit about life? So many people have it worse! Yes…. that’s true, of course it could ALWAYS be worse, but can we just take a minute and stop telling each other what to feel? I feel shit. It is allowed!

Ive been guilty myself of rolling my eyes at another moany Facebook status, but in reality does it really matter if someone wants to have a good moan to let out their emotions and try and find a way through the funk? We preach on social media all the time about supporting one another, but have you noticed when someone moans about their life the majority of us just turn our noses up instead of offering any support? (I include myself in this) We cast people aside as negative, when in reality all they might need is a cuppa and a moan with their mate in order to see a little clearer, and move forward with some new found positivity! So for that reason, I am taking a new stance on moaning! In fact, I’m going to actively encourage it! Having a shit day? Come and tell auntie Steph about it and we can moan and use expletives together. Let’s stop berating each other in a bid to see who has it worse and start trying to make each other smile, through the utter shit show that is life sometimes. After all, it’s not a beauty contest is it? It’s not winner takes all competition? It’s life, and sometimes life is hard.

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Diva Mum

30 year old boxing fan, ska lover, over thinker, tea drinker, over sharer & over swearer. Loves: my child (obviously) moaning, beach walks, mulled wine and writing!

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