Some Lovely Twigs

The 'Issues'

I had a meeting (by videoconference) with an Occupational Health Dr last week and she asked me what 'the problem' was.

My god, where do I start?

She finally agreed that there was too much to cover in that meeting, but I need to have thought it through by the time we talk again tomorrow.  I've had a couple of attempts at this, which is why I've been silent, but here goes another:

Relationships (or lack of): I recognised several years ago that having not really had any meaningful relationship for several years that this was an 'issue' for me and so I sought professional help in the form of counselling.  My counsellor acknowledged even then that there was a lot going on and advised me in those famous words, that this 'may take some time'.

A lot of it related to my relationship with my dad which at that time was becoming increasingly fraught, and not helped by the fact that he lived overseas. 

Ironically though, I spend a great deal of my sessions talking about work, and at least I can now recognise why I act and react to certain situations in the way that I do.

Motherhood - clearly linked to the above, in that it's hard to have a family when you can't even successfully maintain a relationship! This 'issue' has been impacting my relationships for years (see above), as has guilt about a termination many years ago.  I can accept that I did what I had to do at the time, but I always imagined that when ( note, not 'if') I had children it would ease the guilt.  The tough bit has been coming to terms with the fact that it is now more likely that I won't be a mother than that I will - and that's it's nobody's fault but mine.  About 5 years ago, I almost got there, concluding that a truly loving relationship was more important than a child.  In searching for that I had to endure the pain of having that dream re-ignited, only to be cruelly ripped away when he vanished into thin air, being not as separated from his wife as I'd been led to believe. The past few months/weeks have helped and I think/hope I am finally feeling more settled about this.

Bereavement - my dad died 2 years ago, just as I was finally starting to learn how to assert myself in that relationship.  This highlighted just how much of an impact/presence he had on all of our lives.  I loved him, but he drove me demented.  That's probably because I am very like him in many ways, so have to work hard to ensure that I do not make the mistakes he made, usually through passionate belief, which are still scarring me.  I certainly inherited his work ethic (see below) which has alwasy made it difficult for me to conceive of having both a career and a re;ationship - I swear I don't know how people do it!  I think part of our 'issue' was that I don't think he ever saw me as grown up because he never saw me with another man.  He once asked me if I 'wanted to be alone' - I could have cried at how little he knew me in that moment, but then, having grown up at a distance I suppose it's understandable.  He was always working, and then at 11 I went to boarding school.  After that it was just holiday time, when he was still always working.

Work Life Balance - I love the work I do and believe that I am good at it, having been nominated for Awards by colleagues within my first two years.  I've always led a very active social life, but it has become increasingly difficult to reconcile the two. The demands of the role, and the location/nature of the organisation mean that I am usually away very early, often away from home overnight or having to work evenings.  I am careful to ensure that I get the 'hours' back, to be fair to myself and the organisation, but it is the fact that I often have to miss things that gave me that balance and pleasure that caused turmoil.  Getting the hours at a time that didn't match didn't really pay back what it had 'cost' me.  I often wonder how, if I had had a relationship, or a child - or cat - I could have coped as I really can barely keep myself together.  As a result, the flat is almost alwasy a mess, I struggle to keep fresh food in, and fitting regular anything, like exercise in, is a real challenge.   

Health - I did work hard to maintain a balance but early on in this job, I had to let gym membership go because I simply couldn't get there regularly enough.  I travel by public transport and often had a laptop case etc to carry, as well as trying to take salads in with me for lunch, (plus carry music or dance shoes for after work activities - it was bulky and heavy!).  The challenge of just getting up and out the door was huge meaning that I often end up skipping breakfast or grabbing a truly unhealthy bacon roll from Greggs.  It would then be another snatched sandwich or crisps etc on bus on the way home - always eating on the go.  I've managed to reduce the physical load a bit (I once weighed it all - I was carrying 3 stone with me as I was running for trains and buses!!) which was took its toll on my feet (I had real pain when my foot basically collapsed - metatarsalgia), and then on my back and shoulders - I've now got a backpack to spread the weight. 

I have always been prone to coughs, colds etc, but in the past few years it seesm to have been constant.  Whenever I get a cough it goes straight to my chest and creates a hacking cough which is painful and distrurbing to others.  The doctors just say that's 'my cough' and that there is nothing wrong.

I have now lost my voice completely on three significant occasions, twice in the past two years.

I've now been signed off with stress/anxiety since July.  I know I'm not depressed, but in researching how I am feeling I came across this explanation which was like a eureka moment:

Burnout occurs when passionate, committed people become deeply disillusioned with a job or career from which they have previously derived much of their identity and meaning. It comes as the things that inspire passion and enthusiasm are stripped away, and tedious or unpleasant things crowd in.

This tool can help you check yourself for burnout.  http://www.mindtools.com/pages/article/newTCS_08.htm

Needless to say, I come out pretty high in that scoring!!

Work - About a year or so ago, our organisation underwent a 'review' by external consultants who produced a frankly ridiculous report.  It claimed to have involved consultation with staff but nobody in my department was consulted, and our boss's boss was completely misquoted. 

As a hard working, commited team, that was well respected internally and that consistently delivered, producing high quality results, we felt quite safe.  So it was a huge shock when the recommendation stated that with no compulsory redundancies, our small team was to be reduced by 25% and the directorate by 20%.

We  had been told that our 'gold standard' work was too good, and that bronze was sufficient.

After great consideration, and discussion with my boss, I eventually concluded that given my dad's demise and that my mother would be moving back, that ok, redundancy might work.  I thought the writing was on the wall, as at each meeting, all my work was being held, postponed, frozen etc.  I thought I was being paranoid, and just thought ok, let's go.  It was easter 2011 that I submitted my formal request.

To date I have had no written response, but have been told that it was good news because the Exec went for Option A, which was to make one of my role redundant.  Option B was to make 2 redundant.  I was the only person to be doing my role so this was all very confusing.  On the one hand I could be pleased that clearly I was so valuable that I couldn't be allowed to go, yet on the other I'd obviously been doing two people's jobs for the past few years.

Trying to come back from that was tough, as my head was already out the door.  In the meantime, I had applied for a couple of jobs, one of which I got to the final 3 but to no avail.

So I decided that ok, let's stick with it.  I'd been given a nice challenging project, and I thought I could take this opportunity to finally put my house (literally) in order an dfinally get my kitchen done.

Home - it's been so many years that I've promised myself a new kitchen, that in September last year I finally appointed a project manager to help me.  He was a godsend and I no longer needed to spend hours trying to work out which comes first, the boiler or the design.  He was so patient with me (even when I cried!) and we finally got a plan and a budget worked out (with a bit of financial jiggery pokery and a new mortgage loan and my mum's help).

I knew it would be dusty and traumatic, so I managed to schedule the ripping out week to occur when I was due to be away for work anyway.  It was then only another couple before I'd be away on holiday for two weeks, with the plan being it would all be done when I got back.

And it was, almost.  The project manager made it all so much less stressful than it might have been, even when the flat below got leaked upon.  I was beginning to feel quite refreshed and certainly more open and trusting about letting tradesmen and people into my flat.

But just as we were nearing the end, the business with my neighbour kicked off.....

And I think that's a whole other story for a whole other post!

 

Remote in the Middle

It has been the most glorious sunshine the last few days, yet I've struggled to truly enjoy it, and I'm so annoyed at myself. 

My shoulders were really sore again yesterday so I booked a massage and went for that, (never long enough) before grabbing a salad meal deal from Boots and heading for some free fringe music and the sun.  It was lovely and I dozed, read my book, did what many people in the nearby offices were probably only dreaming they could - so why didn't it feel good?  Why did I feel so isolated and remote as I watched the families and groups all over the place?  If I'm indoors I'm thinking I should be outdoors making the most of it, but when I'm outdoors I'm feeling guilty and thinking I should be in getting on with trying to get my head straight, either that or at a show, but don't even get me started on how the heck you choose!

I looked up yoga classes the other day, because I thought that might help me learn to relax, but they had no prices and you have to give your number and wait for them to call you for an introductory class.  That was Wednesday (shortly before I went swimming, also to try and relax) and they've only just called now - after the opportunity of the last few days has passed.  I've booked for Monday, but she said you really need to do at least 2 a week - not a hope and the whole conversation has just stressed me out again!  It's ridiculous - I have to learn how to control this - I can't live like this.  I seem to be getting worse not better.

Occupational Health from my work also called today - 5 weeks after I first went off - and said could I meet the Dr on Tuesday morning.  I said no, as I'm seeing my GP then.  Well, the next appointment is next Tuesday!  AAAArrgh!  I get the impression my boss wants me to meet them before I go back, based on a conversation I had with him last week when I suggested trying a phased return.

But then I also feel guilty that my head still feels a mess, and that I still haven't done lots of the things that I would have liked to have done and really should have done given the luxury of all this time off.    I think the sooner I can get back on some basis and then plan my ultimate escape the better. 

May add more later but for now just had to get that out.   

'The Tartan Twig?'

I thought I should maybe explain where the title comes from, and so with the help of good old Wikipedia, we have the following:

A twig is a small thin terminal branch of a woody plant. The buds on the twig are an important diagnostic characteristic, as are the abscission scars where the leaves have fallen away. The color, texture, and patterning of the twig bark are also important, in addition to the thickness and nature of any pith of the twig.

Etymology 1
Old English twigge, from Proto-Germanic *twīgan (compare West Frisian twiich, Dutch twijg, German Zweig), from Proto-Indo-European *dwigha (compare Old Church Slavonic dvigŭ 'branch', Albanian degë 'id.'), from *dwó 'two'. More at two.

Noun

twig (plural twigs)

1. A small thin branch of a tree or bush.

They used twigs and leaves as a base to start the fire. 

Etymology 2

Verb
From Irish and Scots Gaelic tuig, "to understand"

twig (third-person singular simple present twigs, present participle twigging, simple past and past participle twigged)

1. (colloquial, regional) To realise something; to 'catch on'.

   • He hasn't 'twigged' that we're planning a surprise party for him.

Meanwhile,

Tartan is a pattern consisting of criss-crossed horizontal and vertical bands in multiple colours.

Having done a fair bit of work on my family tree over the years, I began to become increasingly conscious of those branches that did not 'yield' a subsequent generation.  In other words, those small thin terminal branches, and I didn't want to be a twig on my family tree!

But in this journey, where I've been trying to work out the patterns of  my life, I'm gradually coming to 'twig' on to the fact that there is much more to life and in fact the description of a twig helps that along.  I like the fact that the scars of leaves fallen from a twig are important, as well as the colour, texture and patterns of it - and particularly the 'nature of the pith'.  I am actually thinking that now, I could be quite proud to be a twig, and that I still have time to shape the nature of my pith.

As for the tartan, well, as a girl I would sit through interminable church sermons and examine the tartan of my kilt, losing myself in counting the threads of each colour and following the weave as they dipped and dived beneath other colours to make yet more. 

My reflection of late has helped me to observe the various threads of my life, each with their ups and downs, but ultimately all connected and repeating in a pattern to create a unique fabric which is just me and my life.

And so, there we have it - The Tartan Twig - take it as you will.

The Soothing of Sand and Sea

Well, I went to the seaside, and it was wonderful.  I don't know if it was writing about it beforehand that helped prepare me for the challenges and determine to make the most of it, but even with the added challenge of a small baby of 5 months, I was OK. She was just beautiful, and apart from being just so smiley and happy, she shared my name so we had a bond straight away. 

It was so lovely to just hold her and feel her weight, her fuzzy little head and her fierce grip.  It was almost as lovely, though, to hand her back when I could no longer soothe her on those rare occasions that she did cry.  

For me, it was very valuable to hear her mum talk about how surprised she'd been to learn she was pregnant at the age of 45, having thought that (after several miscarriages), her 4 year daughter would be an only child.  She also revealed just how much hard work she finds it.  Seeing my friend coping with the endless demands of her 3 girls as well has made me realise that, if I'm honest I would probably really struggle. 

I did manage to catch up with several good friends all  in one go, but the whole weekend really revolved around the children, whether it was watching them, feeding them, taking them to or from activities, or referreeing their rows.  Saturday was the 5 year old's birthday party, and it was a great opportunity to indulge myself in balloon and bubble blowing.  At one point their dad  came out to me in the garden where I was still blowing bubbles, to tell me that I could stop because the kids were all inside - I told him I wasn't blowing them for the kids, they were for me!!

It was my job to supervise pass the parcel and the post-passing-shred-fest.  The 10 little darlings all decided en masse that it was much more fun to shove all the rubbish down my shirt than into the bin bag provided, but it was fun!  And I was rewarded with an ultimate compliment when one of them told me that I should come and stay over at her house one night.

Fun as it was, however, I really relished the hour I stole to go and wiggle my toes in the sand and just enjoy the peace and quiet of the beach.  So: slowly, gradually, I feel like I am getting more comfortable with it all and able to relax into my role as uber auntie.  It's not going to happen overnight, but it's a start.

Interestingly, there was a Grazia magazine lying around the house there too, and it seems I'm in good company as Jennifer Aniston would appear to be in a similar position.

Jumbled

I'm feeling all jumbled again today. 

I'm going to go and visit friends by the sea which will be good, but it always brings all sorts of challenges for me, making it bittersweet.  Not least do they have all have children, fast growing up, but that was where I took refuge 2 years ago when I heard that my dad had died suddenly overseas.  It was a welcome distraction to be around these friends, especially many of whom I have known since school or university, so there is a certain comfort in their familiarity, but their lives and experiences are just so alien to mine now it does make it challenging and a stark reminder of the family I don't have. 

It's a bit like stepping into a Boden Catalogue, with their bright colours all being worn with such easy elegance. They are all very kind and generous in including me in things, but I feel like such a fish out of water because I don't really have the required membership credentials.  At one barbecue I recall one guy asking me what school my kids went to and I was so taken aback at the presumption, having to stammer that I don't have any, after which his full glass suddenly needed refilling....  At another party it was more blunt: we were all standing in a circle and the man to my left asked something like 'How many do you have/ Which is your husband?', and I said 'None, I'm not married', at which he literally turned his back in horror and started speaking to the person to his left leaving me speechless.  I was so stunned I headed for the dining room to busy myself with filling a plate - there were just a couple of other women in the room at that moment, and as I piled up I did a mental tally that between the 4 of them they had a dozen children - I couldn't handle it and with relief found the host's parents and elderly neighbours and spent the remainder of the evening chatting to them.  Well, it was safer than risking the suspcicious looks if I was caught talking to someone's husband.

You may ask, why do I put myself through it? Indeed I ask myself that sometimes too, but then, I stop and remember the great memories I have of playing on the beach with the kids and an entire day spent being a 'monster' with about 5 little girls all clambering over me and shrieking to be tickled or chased, and it's hard to be sad when you have that.  So, I'll make my annual trip and take some wee gifts and if I can play 'auntie' for a while and give their parents even an hour or two off, before we get to have a catch up glass of wine once they are all in bed, then I think that's a fair deal.

     

A New Day, a New Jigsaw

Today is the first of August 2012 and I don't really know quite where this month - or this post - may take me, but I'm going to give it a go.

I have been exploring so many ideas lately, that my head is just bursting and I need somewhere to put them down and turn them around and try and make some sense of it all.

One of the things I've been doing to try and get myself to relax more is jigsaws - and my head is a bit like that: I need to chuck all the pieces out, enjoy the slightly rough texture as I scramble them around a bit and then start looking at the bits. I start by filtering out the edges, to gradually give it some kind of parameters or framework. From there, it's more like putting like with like, in terms of general colour, shape etc. When it gets down to the trickier bits (like sky etc, and they all look the same, I sort them by shape, mentally labelling them, so say, a 'three out' is a bit that has three prongs, while a 'three in' has three indents. It can get as far as sorting them in terms of the direction of the ins and outs, i.e. are they next to each other or opposite etc. Hey, don't knock it, it works for me!

I think I've always quite enjoyed sorting and categorising things. I used to love sitting with my mother's button box and could happily spend hours sorting by colour and them mix them up and do it by size, or number of thread holes - honestly, who needs x-box or whatever it is!

I wonder if it is this need to label and categorise that has made it so hard for me to come to terms with the fact that I am not likely now to be a mother, or at least a biological one. I think motherhood was always one of what might have been considered an 'edge' piece for me in how I saw the picture of my life. As far back as I can remember, I dreamt of getting married and having children, but it wasn't the sort of career aspiration that would have gone down all that well had it been stated.

 

Now, approaching 44, still single with no potential suitors far less relationships that might lead to parenthood, I have got to be realistic. I have grappled and grappled, and gone back and forth, but I am really now feeling the need to draw a line and move on. Easier said than done, but finally in this last week, I have found a couple of blogs that feel that they 'fit', and read some books, found some articles etc and I am feeling a little closer to a point where I can say, ok, stop looking back or looking forward with a sense of loss, and start really looking forward, in all ways. That's scary, but I want to get over the scary bits and focus on the exciting ones. Ok, so my finished jigsaw picture isn't going to match the one on the box, but it won't be any less of a picture.  I suppose I'm going to have to just try and start in the middle and work my way outwards, as if there are no edges, and no fixed picture.

Yikes.

I think I need a mug of tea.