Wednesday, 7 March 2012


Whoever invented the phrase "work/life" balance needs to be shot.  No, forget that, they need to be hung, drawn, quartered and their remains dragged in front of me so I can fucking stamp on them whilst screeching like a banshee.  I have no work/life balance.  My life IS my work.  I am Mother, I am Wife, I am Daughter, I am Sibling-in-Law, I am Queen of the Household, Empress of the Garden and fucking OVERLORD of the Housework.  Somewhere along the way I lost me.  I can't remember who I am.  Sometimes I get a chance to be me, to be Witch, to be Odd Person, to dance in the kitchen singing to old songs and pretending that there is someone there, looking at me, seeing a REAL PERSON.  Not a title. 

My reality is cleaning, cooking, washing, scrubbing.  It's the school runs, the homework, the Parents' Evenings, the small-talk in the playground.  It's the smiles I plaster to my face when I Skype my parents and hear how they are struggling with their lives.  It's the shirts I wash, the beds I make, the meals I cook, the socks I pair. 

My world has been reduced to a tiny fraction of what it was.  Half a mile up the road to the school and back.  A couple of miles to the Cemetary or the woods maybe once every six weeks.  A trip food shopping on Saturday morning.  Visits to the in-laws.  And now my mental health has deteriorated to the point that I can't PHYSICALLY cope with going any further than that (hell, there are days even just the thought of having to go to another "do" with the in-laws has me breathing into a paper bag and taking valium).  It's a descent into something soft, squashy, and suffocating.  Even if I do try to do something for me, the anxiety fuelled by guilt makes it taste sour, tainted.

I'm not looking to escape.  I love The Hubster, and I love the Witchlets more than anything I've ever known.  But there are days I fantasise about NOT EXISTING.  I can't want to not LIVE, because that would mean dying - and that would cause such pain and difficulty for my darling little family.  But if I never had existed, then neither would they.  The Hubster would never have known me.  I couldn't hurt them if I NEVER EXISTED.

So I'll keep putting on the smile, keep scrubbing away.  Mother first, Wife next, Witch last.  Maybe one day, I'll turn and look at myself in the mirror, and find I'm not there any more. 


  1. I totally understand where you are coming from - I've been there so many times. Actually, I don't think I ever fully escape. I wrote about it a little while ago -

    If you want to chat/rant, you know where I am.

    Hugs and blessings,


  2. I've just read that Lyn - what a brilliant post, that is just so MY LIFE right now. Thanks for pointing me to it! xxx

  3. I think we all come to this point; I have long had a theory that the whole thing about being a "Mother" in the idyllic "Maiden Mother Crone" triad is that it's filled with these moments of washing and child illnesses and traumas and exhaustion. There's not of that long-haired white woman with the world in her belly and a benevolent smile; there's fatigue and grabbing whatever clothes happen to not have porridge on them and running oneself ragged. It's having a spine of steel and always trying to live up to the outward "I'm fine" mode while wondering where the woman you were before you became a mum ever went.

    I haven't been out in months. I wouldn't know what to do on a social occassion and I don't even bother. I know I'm going to be single for the rest of my life unless fat disabled single mothers somehow becomes trendy.

    But today after having a cry which lasted several hours, I went and made lunch. Because that's what we do. We endure, one foot in front of the other, because we are badasses and it runs through our veins. That's probably why you're a Witch FIRST, even if you feel it's somewhere in the wings; being a witch for me is about sacrifice, and giving away of oneself. It isn't fun, but there it is.

    I wish I had advice for you but I don't. I wish I could tell you that seeking help would assist, but chances are it won't. All I can say is this will pass. Children grow up and become frighteningly self-reliant. Eventually the realisation hits that we're not just houseslaves with invisible chains. There comes a point where the work becomes Work and the Work is Love. That feeling comes and goes with the tide - and perhaps that's how it should be.

    Breathe. Go into your woods and weep. Pray to your Powers that Be for insight - because if you're like me it never occurs to you to ask for aid for yourself. Do one thing for yourself this week, and for no one else - for me, I go light my fire outside and sit in full moonlight. I'm sure people think I'm mad for it, but I don't do that for them. It's for me, and it gives me joy.

    Grasp whatever piece of yourself to can and nuture her, even though she may be diminished at the moment. She'll grow stronger in time.


    Rose Skye/LonAitewalker/etcetc

  4. All I can offer is hugs and understanding, because i know somewhat how you feel.

  5. Been there, felt that, and come out the other side smiling, stronger and wiser. Its not a nice place to be and I feel for you right now, but it will pass, all things pass in time. Many times I have felt like I'm drowning, but as long as the witch in me pops up for air occaisionally I know now I'll be fine. We witches are stronger than we give ourselves credit for, you can't keep a good witch down (or a bad witch either for that matter lol)
    And I for one, think the world would be a duller, sadder place if you didn't exist.

  6. Sweetie, I hear ya! I remember watching Shirley Valentine before I got married and being terrified that I would become that woman. But of course, all good mothers DO become Mrs Mum, because we quite rightly put our children first. I have been a single parent since my son was 2 1/2. He's 11 now, and I'm gaining some freedom ~ I can leave him alone for an hour while I go for a run in the morning, or he goes to play out with friends after school which leaves me time to get some sewing done. The light at the end of the tunnel grows brighter each day, but it's tinged with a little sadness, because I know that one day . . . he won't need me anymore.
    Of course, he's male, so he'll probably be 40 before that day comes ;)
    Hang in there ~ you can do this ♥

  7. A really heartfelt message. You have touched a lot of people, myself included. I don't have any advice for you. I'm not good at giving advice but I do want you to know that someone who has touched people as you have is making a huge contribution.
    Oh! I do have a piece of advice. keep looking in the mirror. It reminds you that you are real.
    Many Bright Blessings................Peter