Before I start writing this post, I should probably let you know that I have no idea where I’m going with it, so if it seems a little bit unstructured, that’s why!
Two conversations that I’ve had lately have really got me thinking. The first one I had was with the Husband. He has a couple of big hoodies that I love to wear and a couple of weeks ago he told me that I could have one for myself. To most people, a scruffy old hoodie wouldn’t be a great gift, but I though it was one of the best gifts ever, and told him so. He asked what was so great about it and I said that I love the way that its so big and cosy and that I’m completely concealed within it, you can’t see any part of my body, just a big, indistinct outline. I didn’t see anything wrong with this description, but Husband expressed concern that I feel the need to stop the world from seeing me.
The second conversation was with my Mum. We were being typically British and bemoaning the weather we’ve been having lately (I mean, come on though, it’s JUNE! Today is the first day of summer, for fuck’s sake!) and I mentioned that I quite like the weather like this because it’s cosy indoors and it means that it takes the pressure off of me, because I have a good excuse to stay indoors. My Mum thought this was a worrying statement. I personally don’t see what’s wrong with being more than happy in my own home, but apparently it’s weird. And I guess, if you know me it is kind of weird, I’ve always been a very outdoors, on-the-go type of person. I went to a school which was quite far away from my home, so most of my school friends lived far away too, and after the age of about 13, I rarely spent a weekend at home, favouring sleepovers with them. Then, after I left school, I spent most of my time away from home, eventually ‘officially’ moving out when I was 21.
I suppose my insular behaviour has a lot to do with my own confidence. At home, I’m accepted as I am. My Husband and Daughter love me exactly as I am, I have loads of ‘internet’ friends through blogging, tweeting and writing for BDT. In fact, some of the people I’ve met online I consider to be some of my best friends. That may sound sad, but I’ve found a level of acceptance within a group of women that I never thought possible. We don’t bitch and moan about each other because we’ve never met, we just chat and gossip and help each other out with advice when we need it. I even keep up with most of my real-life friends using technology, be it Facebook, texting, emailing or just a good old fashioned phone call. But it means that I don’t have to be ‘ON’ all the time. I can chat away without worrying if my double shin wobbles when I laugh, or if my top is riding up and showing my stretchmarks.
Which brings me to Cybermummy. And a small confession.
About a month ago, after I attended the Mums on Three event, I was fully considering passing my ticket on to someone else. The stress of travelling to London and being away from Sausage really took it out of me. Being out in the big, wide world for a whole day was frankly terrifying, and as some of the lovely ladies who I met will attest, I spent the last hour in a state of anxiety, wondering when I could leave. I don’t want to feel this way at Cybermummy, I spent so much time looking for a sponsor and getting excited about this event. I even considered going to my G.P. and asking for an anti-anxiety medication for the day. But I don’t know if that will help. It’s quite obviously all part of the PTSD that I like to pretend doesn’t affect me any more. But this all just shows that it’s still alive and kicking.
I guess really, what I’m trying to say is, if I seem a bit odd, or a bit distant…or if you see me eyeing up the exits halfway through lunch, just bear in mind, I’m not completely mental. Just a bit traumatised.