I reckon any solo parent would make a bloody good actor. We are so good at wearing a mask, acting out a facade, changing character in an instance.
I say this because I just spent a few minutes scrolling through my posts over the last week or so. It appears that we have been having a pretty good, fun time of late, bar a snake encounter and a couple of tantys at the dinner table.
Then why do I sit here and feel like things are a bit tough at the moment? That I’m feeling frustrated with the cherubs. That happiness seems fleeting and superficial. That if I don’t watch myself, those insidious groping fingers of apathy will slowly wrap themselves around my soul once again.
Because who’d want to hear about that? Why would I want anyone to know that this shit is hard, that I’m not fucking superman. That I have a loneliness that can’t be cured, that I still struggle with the surrealism of not having my best friend by my side. That most days, I just couldn’t be fucked. With anything.
You see this is one of the reasons I started this blog. Because it’s very easy to share your successes, your happy moments with others. There are no negatives to making others laugh or smile. A shared success increases the elation you feel. Happiness is infectious and desirable.
But sharing your shit times is hard. Why? Because no one likes pity. No one likes to admit they don’t have all the answers, that they are not fully capable. People don’t like to bare their souls for all to see. It feels like a weakness, a vulnerability that needs to be protected. Much easier to just pop on the mask and pass off your life as utopia. Much easier to turn that frown upside down and reply with “all good” as an answer to the inevitable.
And it seems I have been guilty of this. Sure I tell it how it is. I swear, curse the kids, write with honesty. But rarely do I not inject (well try to) some humour or light heartedness into my articles.
Which is fine and dandy 99.9% of the time because that’s exactly how I feel. Crap things can happen but I’ll always try to find a giggle in it somewhere. (usually in retrospect!)
But that 0.01% of the time, things are just outright shit and no amount of sugar coating can make it even remotely amusing.
So I encourage all of you, as I will be doing from here on in, to not shrink into a corner when all you have to share is woe. Tell me / us all about it, I / we won’t judge or offer pitiful words. Because we all have these moments, we all have crap days, and I guarantee you that sharing your shit is far more cathartic and personally useful than posting about the happy, smiling unicorns part of your life.
Peace, love and mungbeans y’all ✌️