So, where to start. I have been writing this blog for some time now, but for the last year or so I think I have become lost. I have lost my way in life, I have lost ‘me’, and I have definitely lost sight of what I wanted out of my blog.
A quick summary for those of you who have not followed me before or do not know me.
Hello **frantically waves and smile**. I’m Allison. I’m a lone parent (I hate the term single mum, but yes I’m one of those aswell). I have two boys who are now 11, and 4, a rescue collie who is 8ish, a beautiful black bunny who is 8 months old, and 4 fish, who are a few years old. I live in a relatively big house, which I have a pretty huge and unaffordable mortgage for. I’ve been divorced for almost 3 years now. I was married for decades before that, I kind of lost count of how many years.
I have a lot of things that I should be happy about. Yet I am not happy. In fact, I am decidedly unhappy. I dislike my life a lot of the time.
I hate my body, even though it has given me my amazing boys. It is blobby and gross, and there is too much of it. I used to love my hair, but it in an awful moment of upset a few years ago I hacked it off myself. Now I don’t even like my hair. I’m constantly tired, and I feel fat and frumpy and horrid.
I really hate my house with a passion, I always have done, and I never really wanted to buy it, I panicked and allowed myself to be talked into it. It had ‘a lot of potential’, said my ex. What he really meant was ‘it has a lot of potential to be a huge money pit that will never be worth what you pay to put it all right’. It has never felt like a home. I am messy and unorganised, and my house looks like a bomb has hit it, even though I blame the kids, it is really because I just don’t care about it to take care of it.
I hate that I am always broke, only just managing to keep my head above water most weeks. It wasn’t always like this, and this is a choice that I have made in order to spend time with the people who are most important in my life. My children.
I feel like a rubbish parent. I am always yelling at my children, I have smashed things in anger, I have sworn (about them and at them), I feel like I am not being a good example. I feel like I cannot provide them with all the latest gizmos that they want in this technology driven era, and am embarrassed at the way they look because we can’t afford for anybody other than me to cut their hair, or because they are in hand-me-downs that are 10 years out of fashion.On the really dark days, I will admit that I wish that I did not have them. Not that they were no longer here, oh my god no, just that they were somebody else’s responsibility and hassle. Life would be so much bloody easier if they weren’t my responsibility. But I also know that I couldn’t bare not being with them, feeling their little bodies creep into my bed in the darkness of the night sometimes because they have had a nightmare, or don’t feel very well. Or just because they want me.
Generally in life I am just not happy. I am unhappy. Really unhappy. And I don’t want to be. I want to be happy, and to lead a fulfilling life. I want to be a good mum, and bring my children up to be good young men. And that is where I started with this blog a few years ago. To help me on that search. For happiness. For ‘Me’.
To be continued…….