Being beautiful

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Hello friends and fellow bloggers. It’s been a while since I decided any of the ‘thoughts that fall out of my busy head’ have been worth sharing. Mostly because they have been miserable and dark. No one wants to hear that shit.

However since the storm cloud of depression has lifted from me, I have found myself obsessing on something that many people of our generation seem to obsess about- how I look. How clear my skin is, how natural my makeup is, how small my clothes are, how I look in a bikini. All things actually that in the grand scheme of things I don’t care about at all. So why does it enter my mind so much?

I remember Kate Moss stating a few years back that she always felt best when she was at her skinniest. For a while I agreed. who doesn’t love it when they can fit into tiny clothes and have everyone notice? It is after all what is expected of us, no matter how old we are, where we are from, how active we are, how many children we’ve had etc etc.

I volunteer with young people and I was talking to a gorgeous girl who told me that everyone at her school calls her a hippo. The girl has a few curves and that is how she is growing up viewing herself.

How do we teach kids like her to feel beautiful inside and out without comparing themselves to each other? Or worse, without comparing to those that make a career out of looking pleasing to the eye.

I don’t want my children to surrender to the kind of competitive and self depreciating pressure that we are all burdened with. I want them to feel beautiful, confident and capable no matter what.

I have spent the past few years (after my more recent pregnancies I suppose) trying really hard to look ‘good’.

To be able to enjoy food, I worked out with weights and cardio on top for 1.5 hours four times a week. FOUR TIMES A WEEK. When I got really depressed and could no longer summon the energy to do that, I simply stopped eating. There was a point where I could hardly get out of bed (and often didn’t) because I was so low on energy. I stopped seeing people. I stopped bothering with the kids. And I was 7.2 stone. Which is for me very small. And I did not feel my best. Come to think of it, I felt the worst I’ve ever felt.

So after seeing various professionals and a couple of years of a high dose of antidepressants, I started to become happier. I got my appetite back and most importantly my energy back. But something happened, I could no longer fit into my tiny clothes. So of course feeling enormous, I joined the gym.

But now, I have a much busier schedule and I simply cannot fit working out into my daily life (unless I was to go at 6am which trust me after waking up 10 times a night with each child would be a very bad idea).

Things change.

I read a book by Margaret Atwood once called ‘Oryx and Crake’. It was a few years back so I can’t remember the full story but one scene really stood out to me and I try to remind myself of it now and then. The book is set in a future where we are so advanced we can all look however we please. We are all ‘perfect’. Women all have tiny waists and big boobs. Men are all ripped and hair free. The main character chooses to live alone outside that world because he chooses not to conform. He misses variety. He misses character. He misses nature. All those things are beauty to him.

I want to be beautiful in that way. I want my children to want to be beautiful in that way.

So today, when I was beating myself up about once again not finding the time to go to the gym, I had a small epiphany. I do not want to conform. I’m not a model, my appearance doesn’t matter at all.

I’m not saying I won’t wear makeup, have fun with clothes and all of that. I am saying I intend to alter my standards of what I expect myself to look like, and learn to feel beautiful and happy with what I am without feeling guilty if I fluctuate in weight, when my hair greys or when my wrinkles deepen. I am after all ageing and I have given birth to four wonderful children. And I look freaking good. Without all the extra effort.

When I die, I don’t want the most memorable thing people say about me is how flawless I looked in a bikini or out of one. I don’t want it to be mentioned at all.

Here are the things I want people to see me as right now:

  1. A good mother
  2. A good friend
  3. Kind
  4. fun
  5. Happy
  6. Adventurous
  7. An animal lover
  8. A musician
  9. A creative
  10. A home maker (Not in a housewife sense, in a way that everyone feels welcome in my home and I will always make room for anyone I care about who needs it)
  11. A student

I’m sure there are many more but these are the things that jump to me now.

So please children, friends, fellow bloggers, throw away your bastard torturing tiny outfit memories and make room for what is now. A beautiful, more mature, wiser version of yourself who has much more important things to put their efforts into. Like so many other inspiring people out there, let’s reset our standards and learn to feel beautiful, no matter what we look like.

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The vows I never said at our wedding

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The vows I never said

Muzz,

When we got married, you were quite in favour of the idea of us both writing our own vows. I said no. Not because I don’t have a million things to say (you know me better than that), or because I didn’t want to share these thoughts with you or others, but because I knew I couldn’t tell you this without wailing like a baby all the way through. Our wedding was a sob fest enough as it was! (Still not letting go the fact you hid behind your shades by the way). So here are my vows. Please do not write any in return, I know that’s not your style. But it is mine, and to tell the world (or my few friends who might take an interest). This being one of the many things you have learnt to accept about me.

As you know I had a somewhat unconventional upbringing. This made me yearn one thing. A solid family unit.

My little family had already begun when we met and I was sceptical about letting you in.

You were pushy.

I pretended I didn’t like that, but I did. It was not only very flattering, it was romantic.

I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but I’m a bit of a fan of romance…

I didn’t know how or when to introduce you to my two year old son who was undergoing a diagnosis of epilepsy, autism and adhd.

I told you that it would happen when I felt ready.

But being you, you showed up at my door uninvited when you knew I was with him.

My instinct was to be upset and turn you away but I was curious to see how the two of you would react to one and other.

You brought a pack of cards with you and in no time at all you were helping him line them up.

This was the first time I realised you really wanted something with me. And, that you were a foolish romantic, ready to give your heart to anyone. (As was I).

Your life had always been fairly simple until I was introduced to it.

Oscar had his challenges and tested us immensely. In our third year together we almost turned our backs on each other.

That was the worst time of my whole life.

We needed that small time apart though to realise that even at our most miserable, nothing was as unbearably devastating as not being together.

So we worked it out and moved forward.

Since then you have constantly surprised me, enlightened me, excited me, made me laugh, irritated the fuck out of me (in the kind of way that would be hugely missed if you were gone…), you’ve believed in me, confided in me, comforted me and taken the time to truly understand me.

And of course given me three more beautiful children.

I am hard work.

My family are hard work. (Many of us any way, sorry guys if you are reading this but look at us? Love you!)

You have always understood that our home is open to anyone who needs to stay.

You have always encouraged and accepted my wild side. (One of the many things we have in common.)

You have forgiven me for the most outrageous and impulsive decision making possible. (cough, horse for a week, never even rode it, gave it back cause it was a demon, and never got the money back…cough).

You support me when I publically open my mouth in ways that often makes you uncomfortable.

You never judge me.

You nurture my need to learn, and to understand people.

You stayed strong when I nearly gave up.

You work like a crazy person because you want our children to have the best.

You are the greatest father and friend a person could be.

You are my everything.

I am fucking crying now.

But I am alone thank god.

See why I couldn’t tell you this stuff out loud?

Because our life isn’t average.

We have been tested more in our seven years together than most are in an entire lifetime. Hell we were in the first two.

It’s exhausting and relentless sometimes.

But you are consistent.

You give me that stability I always wanted.

You give our children stability.

Not to mention non–stop laughter and kindness.

I don’t need anything more.

It’s only human to dream bigger, but we have it all right now. I really believe that.

Thank you.

Also…

…I don’t get it, but thank you, for picking me.

Vikki x

The truth about watching my special-needs son being raised by strangers

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Oscar was diagnosed with epilepsy at 2 years old. By three it was also confirmed that he has autism and ADHD. His father and I split when he was about 18 months. Though apart, we maintained a good friendship and parented Oscar together but separately. Within the next year, I met Muzz (my now husband). Through many ups and downs, the three of us did our best by Oscar and communicated well with each other during the process. 

Oscar was approaching 6 when I had my eldest daughter Susannah. Though he struggled to begin with, I received quite a lot of care (in our home) for him and plenty of family support from my aunts and Oscar’s father so we made it work. We had rough days of course but mostly, we coped. The next year, I fell pregnant again. This time with twins. From the very beginning the pregnancy was hard. I was very sick, anaemic and constantly drained. Oscar’s anxieties increased as I was not able to deal with him in my usual way. His violence was severe. Oscar would fall asleep (exhausted) between 6-7pm every night. By midnight (often before) he would be wide awake. That would be all he slept for the night. I would try to leave him to play but he would trash his room and his things and throw his belongings down the stairs. I also received a number of complaints from my neighbours because of the noise he was making during unsightly hours. To say it was a difficult time is an understatement.
Oscar had been building up to stay over night in the local residential care home (which is actually part of his school). It was to be arranged he would stay there a couple of times a week to give me a rest. In July 2013, my social worker moved him in on a 52 week basis after hearing news of him kicking me repeatedly in the stomach (while I was pregnant). I didn’t fight to keep him home because at that point, I was desperate. No one in our house was coping and nobody was happy.
Since his move, Oscar has blossomed in ways I at one point never could have imagined. His anxiety levels are so reduced now that he is progressing in school. He is able to match all the letters in his name and he is even starting to try and copy the sounds as he does it. Oscar is pretty much toilet trained. Though he has to do it on a timer, he is mostly dry and so pleased with himself for it! My time with Oscar is only positive now. We cuddle, laugh, play. When he comes home he tolerates his sisters and the noise because he knows he can ask to go elsewhere when he has had enough. I am slowly building the time up but I will never force him to spend longer here than he can manage. I am hoping one day he will be ready to stay overnight again. Most importantly, Oscar is now happy. He is content with his every day life, beaming when he comes home and from what I hear, has a great relationship with his dad still. Rationally, I know that this should be enough for me to accept what has happened.
Sadly, and perhaps selfishly, for me this isn’t the case.
At the end of last year I hit a pretty dark depression. I am on my way out of it now I think. There  many factors of course but my feelings about Oscar are the ones I am struggling to come to terms with the most. I am trying very hard to recover. Sometimes my blogs really help with questionable emotions. So I thought I would share my daily struggles.
Here is a list of the things I find troublesome about our situation with Oscar:
1) The automatic shame I feel when people ask about him. I hate talking about him because it just makes me feel sad. And like I have failed as a parent.
2) I feel guilty about how little of me he gets compared to his sisters.
3) I have no control over his diet. I am fairly into nutrition. All of my children eat healthily. I have always lived by the philosophy of ‘if it isn’t in the house, they won’t ask for it’. And they don’t! Oscar was happy to eat what ever snacks and meals I gave to him. Now I have to sit back and swallow my words as I observe him eagerly consuming huge amounts of cereal bars, biscuits, crisps, white toast etc. The actual meals the children are given are fairly balanced as they are delivered by a kind of ‘meals on wheels’ type company but it’s the snacks and amount of sugar he is allowed to eat that upsets me. I just wouldn’t ever have him eating things like that except for the occasional treat. Now he will insist on those foods because he sees the other children in the house with them. Of course they can’t deny him what they have and I don’t want him being treated differently. Some won’t eat anything else so it is of course great when they eat anything at all this is I suppose why they stock such items. Oscar has always loved food and now he chooses sugar constantly throughout the day because it’s an option. Who wouldn’t? I simply have to smile and bare it.
4) The same goes for his wardrobe. I shouldn’t get upset by this but I do. I said to Oscar’s key-worker from the day Oscar moved in that if he needs anything then I want to get it. I am still his mother and want to provide his clothing. The problem is, they now receive the allowance I used to get for him so they have to spend it on him. Sonia is a wonderful person and I couldn’t have asked for a better carer to work with my boy. She really does go above and beyond for Oscar. She does try so hard to buy things she thinks I would chose, and some of them I might. But it’s not the point. I want to feel like I am my son’s mother. At best I feel like a really close aunt. The last batch of clothing I bought for Oscar was handed back to me the next day by one of the members of staff after they rather non-emotionally explained “None of these fit, you may as well take them back.” Of course the person didn’t realise, but that hurt. I don’t even know the right size clothing for my child these days? Ouch.
5) I adore my visits with Oscar. I like to spend time with him at the home and build a relationship (and trust) up with all the staff members as well as take him out and bring him home. There are certain tasks however, I struggle to hang around for. The kind of things that used to be part of my every day life and now I have to watch strangers perform. Like administering his medication. Giving him a bath. Changing him into his bedtime clothes. Putting him to bed. The real I suppose, mundane, parental and necessary duties. I feel actual pain when I watch other people doing these things. True heart ache.
6) I find it very difficult to make myself heard if I do have any complaints as the house is quite understaffed. I actually very rarely have any upsets but over the 2 years, the odd thing has arisen and when I have voiced these issues, they have pretty much been laughed off, like I don’t know what I’m talking about. I like everyone there so much that I don’t want to cause any friction so I generally just leave it. It’s very awkward sometimes.

7) Oscar’s father can not forgive me for allowing Oscar to live there. I understand. He is not a well man so cannot have him full time. And in his eyes, I have a cosy new family and Oscar is conveniently out of our hair. Part of me justifies my new life and embraces it. A larger part of me agrees with him, we all have choices in life and I chose to have more children and risk my abilities to look after my son who needs at least one-on-one with him at all times. I have four children (the girls are 3 and twin 18 months). The maths does not add up. I find impossible to forgive myself for the way things have turned out so how can I expect Oscar’s dad to? This does of course contribute to my unhappiness because in my eyes we are all still family and I care about him deeply.

8) If I envision a future without the belief that Oscar may not one day come home to me it makes me think terrible (some would say irrational) thoughts that I can’t control. Quite frankly, I don’t want to go on if that is to be my future. All I need to be happy is all my children, under one roof. I picture us somewhere self sufficient where we live of the land and our animals. Somewhere quiet and safe. It may be a romantic thought but it’s a dream that I use to get me through the days. Not entirely unachievable. One can live and hope.
I’m sorry if this is coming off bleak, but it’s reality. We are living a very complicated situation. I don’t know of anyone who can relate to my yearning. I don’t know if I will ever be OK. Maybe I won’t?
I just need to hang on to the truth, Oscar is happy. It may not be because of me or anything I have done for him as a mother but he is. The way he has advanced over the past couple of years, proves that he may one day achieve anything he desires. And he might come back to where I feel he belongs. Until then, I have to clutch on to any beautiful moments we share together and use that warmth to smile when I talk about him instead of cry. Until then I have to be grateful for how much fantastic support we receive as a family when so many people out there are struggling. Until then I have to remind myself that it’s better that I continue with a lugubrious hole in my heart than Oscar not gladly thrive and grow. It is a sacrifice. One that benefits him for now. That is of course what matters the most.

Homeschool follow up

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So it seems I have caused a bit of a stirring with my controversial views and I wanted to set some things straight…

Firstly, I am not meaning to cause offence to anyone who has chosen (or is intending to) to send their children to school. I have friends who are far better parents than I could ever hope to be who have children in mainstream schools and they are doing just fine. I also know there are brilliant teachers out there, the best. We all long for these teachers and if our children were lucky enough to have one for each subject, along with more one-on-one time and a intellectual and emotional connection with each one too, then they would sail through each subject. But how likely is that?
Like any choice that is different from the ‘norm’ my thoughts are bound to raise some eyebrows. I do believe that the school system is outdated and is no longer designed with the best interest of the pupils’ individual needs. I think things were bad when I was at school (twenty odd years ago), and that it has got worse, and will continue to do so. I am generally talking about high schools. There are many amazing primary schools in my area. However I have a lot of friends with children in secondary school and not one of them has a happy story to tell. One just the other day was telling me about how her daughter got stabbed with a pen (quite severely) and the school denied any responsibility for this as ‘no-one saw what happened’. I have another who’s child is being hugely bullied; she has met with the teachers, head teacher and parents of the children causing problems. The school say that the bulling isn’t ‘severe enough for them to take action’. They have more serious issues to deal with like weapons, rape and drugs. I could go on, I have tons of examples. The thing is, if my children have a super time in primary school and the hit these kinds of troubles in secondary school, how can I tear them out of the system then? How I can I justify pulling them away from any friendships made and dividing them so consciously and brutally? This will cause so much difficulty for all of us. I genuinely believe these problems will arise at some point and there will be nothing I can do to stop them. So I feel that homeschooling from the very beginning is the only fair way it can be done. It will be ordinary to them and I will work hard to meet others where that is also their normality so that they don’t feel like they are missing out.
My experiences of school have affected my views of course but they have not tainted them. I experienced many school settings as I moved a lot as a child. My main two examples of teenage educational settings (both of which failed me as a student) are interesting. One was a large comprehensive (2500 kids) split over two buildings. And the other was a small, country private school.
The first was intense. I was bullied from the start. Many people were. It’s fair to say I’ve always been fairly eccentric and people at that age don’t like it my experince. The girls would all buy the exact same pairs of shoes and hair bands and wear make up and smoke. I was ridiculed for not doing any of those things. Really, hugely ridiculed. So much so that I needed a distraction. I soon discovered that if I was ‘naughty’ and acted out to the teachers, people would laugh at me instead of picking on me. I then had people saying ‘Vikki, dare you to do this’ and I would! I was now likeable. I also would make fun of people less popular than myself (only in front of the mean kids which is worse than all the time really) so I looked tough. I learned many life lessons, none of them good as I was shaping to be a not very nice person. I learnt hardly anything when it came to school academia.
So concerned at my behaviour and bad reports etc my family decided to place me in a private setting. As far as my image went, this was fantastic for me. I was now able to become whoever I wanted. I made meaningful friendships. However, the school had no hope for me from the moment I began. A school like that is very precious about ‘success’ and ‘results’. They were worried about me lowering their averages. Not many people pay for a school that don’t offer excellent averages. So with every given opportunity I was suspended and at one point they tried to expel me over very little. Fortunately my family prevented that from happening. So I made it out with to quote one of my teachers, ‘surprisingly good results’. They were so convinced that I was going to fail that they didn’t want to teach me. In some classes, all I would have to do was walk through the door before being asked to leave. Sure I had a cheeky attitude but I was not a bad kid. I did leave school believing that I was though. In fact I thought I was pretty worthless. And that did not give me the courage to really try anything else educationally.
I know that not everyone’s experiences mirror mine but I can’t help but think my children are bound to have (already do) possess some of my (and our family’s) eccentricities. I want to embrace them rather than make them feel ashamed of who they are. I don’t want them to conform to the standards that someone, somewhere has decided is correct. I want them to grow into well rounded, helpful and kind people with an open mind and a passion for learning. Give me a school that can guarantee they will try their hardest to achieve this which each and every student?
Secondly (back to my last blog), I definitely allowed my anger at the growth and horror caused by capitalism to take over my main points. My fears of schools changing for the worse are caused by this, but I do realise it is a separate issue. I also suffer from anxiety so it’s safe to say that these thoughts may overwhelm me and keep me up at night on a regular basis so I know I have to evaluate them frequently. It does not make them all completely irrational though.
Thirdly, I am not intending to shelter my children from anything; quite the opposite. My eldest daughter is only three so I am only just starting my research and plans for our educational journey. I am reading heaps of books by fascinating and inspirational authors such as Alfie Kohn, John Holt, Maria Motessori and Rudolf Steiner to name a few. There are many home ed groups in my surrounding areas and I am planning to meet as many like minded people as I can and help develop the community. I feel there is a higher chance of building something wonderful for education locally outside the grip of school than in it when there are so many people to go through. I am planning to offer free music and cooking classes to children in the same situation as mine once a week with the hope to inspire others into sharing their talents with our children. I plan to bring accomplished friends in for days here and there to teach my children skills such as knitting, sewing, shooting, fishing, climbing, sailing, horse riding, building, carpentry and what ever else might be on offer. I also intend to en-roll my girls in any groups they wish to join. Susannah is starting a dance class next week. There are also drama groups, gym classes, sports teams and all sorts that we can look into depending on their interests. There are also local forest schools that we can attend every now and then to develop their nature skills. That’s the social side of things explained.
As far as the life lessons school gives: let me be clear, I am not at all wanting to raise my children wearing blinkers. But what kind of lessons of enormous value will they be missing out on exactly? The only one I see is how to survive (if they do) under huge amounts of unnecessary pressure. As far as knowing about the troubles in the world, to start with, we already have a lot of stories in our direct life that proves how different  one life experience can be from the next. We are also going to do community work once a month to meet all kinds of people from all kinds of backgrounds with the intention to teach my girls that anyone can end up anywhere and to never to judge. We are going to keep a daily journal for ‘random acts of kindness’. They will have to take it in turns to think of something kind we can do each day for another person. This will hopefully show how easy it is to be there for others when one puts their mind to it. A valuable life lesson that schools most certainly do not focus on.  I want compassion to be their main attribute to anything they do. I feel it’s the most important trait any person can possess. Without compassion there is no room for growth or change. Without compassion, everything else one does is inconsequential. Without compassion, the world and everything in it has no worth.
A last huge pro to home-schooling is being able to chose how we learn. We can take trips, meet people from around the world, any time, any where. I will be there to help with every struggle educationally and emotionally. Not only will that make my understanding of my children a deeper one but I will be able to be actively involved when we hit any walls (which of course we will).
I have no doubt that my gorgeous, intelligent and funny girls would survive with Muzz and me as parents through the manic school system. (Which compared to many countries I accept that we are extremely lucky to have). We could guide them the best way we know how.
But to me, survival is not enough. I want my children to reach their full potentials, intellectually and as human beings. I am not saying I can absolutely do that, that is a massive assumption. But I am willing to sacrifice everything to try. Because I think I have a better chance of achieving that than anywhere or anyone else as far as my kids are concerned. Maybe I am crazy, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.

Why I intend to homeschool my younger children

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It’s probably easiest to start this post with a list of what I think it is most important that my children learn:

1) Compassion
2) kindness
3) The ability to reflect and grow
4) The acceptance of others
5) The skills to forward think (anticipate political, educational and environmental changes etc and have an opinion on these things)
5) The art of debate
6) Respect for other living things, and for the planet we live on
8) To listen and be open minded
9) How to live off the land
10) How to care for animals
11) To be inquisitive
12) To forgive others and themselves for wrong doings and learn from regrets.
13) To look after their body, mind and soul (by soul I mean the desires inside that are often ignored i.e the individual’s personal path to happiness.)
14) To be patient.
15) To appreciate the input of others and not compete at life.
16) To be able to express and understand their emotions.
17) To appreciate the beauty of art, drama, dance, music and literature.
18) To be confident.
19) To be spontaneous but not reckless.
20) To appreciate the beliefs of others.
21) To make clothes.
22) To nurture the born desire to learn in their own way and in their own time. There should be no race to knowledge but one should understand what they have learnt and find a way to make it interesting for themselves what ever the topic.
23) To confide in others.
24) To be approachable
25) To always help others in need.
26) To be brave enough to stand up for what they believe in.
27) To laugh and have fun and enjoy every moment they can.
I’m sure there are a million other things that I will think of after posting this. But you get my point- I believe that teaching our children to be compassionate, helpful, and respectful of the planet and everything on it should prioritise any other kind of learning. Knowledge of other subjects is of course valuable, but it is not helpful alone especially if not taught well. If all children enter this world with a passion to learn, it seems to me that the factory setting of a school annihilates that yearn almost immediately. The pressure ‘to do well’ by the teachers coincided with the demand ‘to fit in’ by their peers is a recipe for disaster for most sensitive human beings. And most human beings are sensitive in my experience. I don’t ever want that to burden my kids with those unrealistic and meaningless expectations. That’s why I will never force, only gently encourage them to learn in fun ways, and I will learn with them. I will embrace their individual flair, aptitudes and talents. Or I will try my damn best to anyway.
We will tackle each subject like a game and make sure that everyone is enjoying the work and absorbing the knowledge. I know this is easier said than done but I will of course take on the challenge. I will not be authoritative, that is part of the respect. If they are having trouble with a subject, I will cross that bridge when we get to it. Even if it means hiring a tutor for certain parts. I am not saying I am capable of teaching all topics but I do want to work with my children’s personal strengths and weaknesses, and make decisions with them as they go along; as they start to process more about themselves, and what they are most keen to excel in.
To learn is a beautiful gift that makes us human and I want my children to realise this. I will urge them to discover that there is no limit to knowledge. I want them to be hungry for it and feed that hunger for self satisfaction and not because they are told to.
There should be no such thing as failure. Failure is a word I will not tolerate. It is a destructive word that offers no advice. It is a label. If something is not understood, we will find a new way to approach the learning of that field. One that suits their wavelength and pace of learning without making them feel stupid. Schools have many ways of making a child feel useless without even saying the words. Putting a child in ‘sets’ for example: anyone put in a ‘bottom set’ may as well be told not to bother because they are too stupid. Anyone put in the ‘top set’ may as well be told “go on kid, prove yourself or you are going to fail like the people below you.” Worst of all, the childrens’ abilities are so often misjudged because of a lack of confidence, or different approaches to learning that don’t fit in with their standards, or simply because they did not gel with their teacher. That in my eyes is unacceptable. And potentially mis-shapes our childrens’ future.
I don’t believe in grades however I also know that I would never want to limit the options for my children as they grow up. I also want them to be able to communicate with other kids they meet in clubs or at the park without seeming like they are from a different world. That is my only reason for deciding to follow the national curriculum and enter exams (only the big ones though I suppose some how we will have to practice for those but definitely not until they are in their teens.)
All though, deep down, I have no idea where our country will be at that time and whether I will want us to stay in it.
Possibly the main reason I am in anguish for my children is because of their undeveloped mental health. My family has a long list of victims of pretty much everything you can think of when it comes to mental health issues and addiction problems. Also, It seems to me that as time goes on, more children generally are suffering with anxiety and depression, self loathing, body issues, addictions, crime, even psychotic episodes. I do not think that the children or the parents are to blame. Our culture is. We have created something too big for most people to live in peacefully and right mindedly. Half the people I know are on medication just so they can survive this insufferable rat race that is every day life.
People regard ‘sucess’ as being wealthy and in a high-flying job. It sounds crazy but I feel sick every day by how much people seem to ‘need’ material things. The business, the noise, the smells, the anger, the bullying, the expectations, the poverty, the sickness, the ignorance, the loneliness and suffering. Money, things, money, things. I can’t bare the reality that we are living in. I don’t want my children to be a part of something that I consider the opposite of natural.
I read a couple of weeks ago that the 85 richest people globally possess more than it would take to wipe out world poverty. I honestly lost sleep mulling over this for a while. How can anyone be ok with having so much money when there are people dying every day from hunger and ill health because of being so poor. I know it sounds cliche, but it is happening and people ignore it. I hate that people justify this. The guilt and sadness this truth fills me with makes me unstable. I’m sure I’m not the only one. It will never be ok to me. Why it is to anyone else is beyond me. I just don’t understand it.
People are so strange. We all have the same fears, but the way I see it is that we focus on the wrong precautions that ironically contribute to the problems. We are terrified our children will succumb to bullying, drugs and crime so we ram exams down their throats and judge their ‘intelligence’ on a daily basis and most of the time tell them they need to do better. We fear war so turn to the government for support with weapons and armies instead of preparing for a life after mass destruction. We are already destroying our planet and each other every single day but we condone every moment of it. And we pretend it won’t affect us even though it already is. We tell ourselves that there is nothing we can do about it.
Imagine if we lived in a world where everyone literally looked after their neighbour.
Imagine if we all followed our basic instincts and turned away from the monstrosity we have created around us.
I don’t want to be a part of it but sadly, I am. We all are.
I can’t control my children but I can give them all the tools I think they will need to survive as healthily as possible in this hell we are all part of. That to me is success. Everything else is a bonus.

Coming to terms with anxiety

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I like to be busy. Well I say that, I’ve only ever known… manic I suppose. I had about of year of utter laziness in my teens and that was great! But apart from that, yep pretty bloody mental.   You may have read my other blog- the autistic diaries which was about my son Oscar. Oscar is now nine and living in the residential part of his school full time. We have had quite the journey. He is flourishing and I couldn’t be prouder. Even if I do live with a permanent rain cloud of guilt, showering over my thoughts; knowing that he is not with me, the way a child should be. Sometimes one has to put pride aside I guess, and do what they believe is best for everyone in their family. That is what I’ve done, I hope.   I have three other children.   Susannah is three on valentines day. Being born into a household that (at that time) was hugely dominated by her brother’s needs, has given her a naturally helpful manner and heart full of compassion. Her understanding of other’s emotions and needs surprise me every day. Don’t be fooled though, the girl has confidence. She is wholly observant, yet also manages somehow, to keep all eyes fixed on her. A winning combination.   Then there are my twin daughters- Rosie and Berry. They are just over a year old. They are identical and fascinate me constantly. Within their first weeks on this Earth, their differences in character were evident. Yet somehow, they are completely and perfectly the same. They are perceptive, dainty and careful. With a cheeky glint of something extra.   I truly am the happiest I have ever been. There is so much love in my life it overwhelms me.   I live in a strange panic about my daily contentment. My children are all so fantastic. I have the most supportive, kind and idiotic (in a good way) partner who I share this glorious life with. My friends and family are so very beautiful, talented, interesting and giving. We have a modest and messy home that is warm and is ours. Yet I can’t shake the reality that it is all temporary. I feel like all the birds of paradise have chosen to live on my roof and sing me the worlds best music everyday, with plans to one day move on forever without looking back- leaving me utterly alone in my silence.   Most new parents will relate to these feelings. When you watch your tiny, innocent and thoroughly vulnerable newborn sleeping, it hits you- nothing else matters now, without this person, life is no longer worth living. And then you check every 30 seconds to make sure they are still breathing. No parent can prepare for this kind of love. It consumes you and alters you in ways that are absolutely out of your control. I think it is the most wonderful thing that can happen to a person. But the underlying angst that comes with it is hard to bear and in my case, impossible to cast aside.   I’ve have been ‘anxious’ since my teens. When I was eighteen it was really bad. I was obsessed with the world ending. I used to imagine Milton Keynes glass shards soaring for miles and chopping everyone in half. My breathing and heart would accelerate so much that I then thought I was going to have a heart attack. Then there was the addition of how odd I was being. I would have to count my footsteps all the way home to deter my thoughts from obsessing on death but when I arrived home to safety, I would then be tormented with the concerns that what I kept doing was abnormal and that maybe I was going mad. This was (and still is) an easy conclusion to jump to as my family has a history of mental health problems of many kinds. That for me is the most terrifying thing that could ever happen. Losing my mind. Losing everything because I’ve lost my mind. Then I discovered alcohol. This took the edge off. I could quite easily have let that deplete me.   I didn’t know about panic attacks at this point. It was thanks to a good friend that I learnt about these. Tessa was staying at my house when she was  awoken by me making a phone call. I was in a hysterical mess on the bathroom floor telling NHS direct that I thought I was dying. I am still always in awe of Tessa’s knowledge and experience. At this young age, she knew exactly what was going on and what to do. After calmly taking the phone from my hand and hanging up, she held my hands, looked into my eyes and told me I was having a panic attack and that everything was going to be OK. Everything was OK after that.   I mostly learnt to anticipate and curb the attacks from thereon.   As an adult I have mastered how to avoid the majority of the scenarios that trigger my anxiety (without out the use of alcohol). Though one cannot control everything. Every few years, something will happen that will set it off to a point where I don’t want to interact with the outside world. During these times, my skin will hurt, my heart will feel offbeat and jumpy, sometimes I shake, I will cry in strange unpredictable outbursts, something large will manifest in my throat and won’t go away and indigestion takes over my insides so I find it hard to eat. I even break out in spots. Then there are the thoughts, the maddening voices that haunt every minute of those times: “You are going to lose everything.” “You are crazy already and soon everyone will leave you.”   I have however trained myself to make music and/or exercise when I’m cemented in this dark place. After a few weeks, it usually subsides. I have not yet needed medication as my life balance has not been too affected at this point. If I thought it was necessary though, I would not say no to giving it a go . Especially if I knew I was making my loved ones miserable.   Strangely, I believe existing with anxiety has many positive attributes to offer to life as well. It fills me with a constant need to  ‘live for today’. People think I’m nuts because I express so much love all the time, because I need them to know, right now how I feel about them. It’s an urge so strong and passionate, I can’t shake it. This love is overpowering and exquisite and I feel so lucky to have it there reminding me how beautiful people are all the time. And without the intention of sounding cheesy, it’s the hideousness in the world that highlights this beauty. Which somehow makes even the most unseemly situations appear alluring. Like the people that make sandwiches for their neighbours after an earthquake. That’s human nature, or part of it. That sort of kindness is hidden in our usual everyday hustle and bustle. It’s the horror of the earthquake that brought these simple but tender actions to the surface. Living with anxiety, makes me feel like an earthquake is always about to occur, so I guess that makes me aspire to be the type of person that would indeed display that sort of kindness regardless of whether the earthquake actually takes place. As well as take pride in the graciousness of anyone I spot doing something extraordinary. These things make me uncontrollably happy! This must be a good thing?   I also think dread should make us give people the benefit of the doubt each and every single time someone screws up. (I am not talking about evil here- that is another topic altogether. I am speaking about unfavourable actions that people take, or even characteristics that they maintain and why it should not define their entirety.) When you know the world is ultimately going to end, it is of course terrifying but at the same time it could help us refrain from seeing only ‘wrong’ or ‘bad’ in most daily situations. Fear is a powerful motivator. It can help us put things into perspective. If we viewed everything as a stretch of  very limited time we might be able to evaluate multiple options of outcomes for certain scenarios. When some of the options are positive, we could place all our energy into realising as long as there is hope, it’s not the end for anyone. If we as a majority held on to that, fewer people would give up on themselves I think. We all need people to believe in us. So if someone lies, steals, hurts or falls so low it’s hard to imagine them in a good place, perhaps believing in forgiveness, fresh starts and practising compassion will give the people around us a chance to redeem themselves. The opportunity to reflect, learn and grow, and most importantly, to want to do those things. I certainly would like those chances from people when I fuck up. I don’t want there to be a limit to them. I truly believe we can love anything better. I also believe, within certain circumstances, we are all capable of most wrongdoings. Therefore, no-one is better than anyone else. I conclude from my experiences so far that most people are good and everyone is shit sometimes, sometimes more often than not. But that is not all they are. I think we could all use a constant reminder that loss of any kind trumps (pretty much) anything else when it comes to hardship. Then we might all learn to value the love we share. We could all live a ‘Richard Curtis’ kind of life. That would be the best.   So (in perhaps a rather accidentally self-righteous kind of way- Let me assure you, these are just random thoughts that occurred to me recently and I do not think myself any kind of guru, far from it), I’m just trying to say, with every bad there has to be a good. Every time I think about loss, I am reminded of how much I love. Anxiety fills me with the constant fear of loss, therefore I feel this hugely emphasised and unbelievable pang of love all the time. And love is better than anything. It’s what connects us with others and makes life beautiful. So I am actually grateful for this strange condition.