There’s a thing I do when something’s happening or going to happen that I don’t like very much. I plan and I plot and I get involved in things. I think of all sorts of other things I could be doing or do all sorts of things, rather than thinking about the thing I need to be thinking about. A lot of the time, the things I’m planning or plotting relate to the thing I’m avoiding.
For example, when the girl was born I suffered with post-natal depression. I felt, at the time, that I wouldn’t be a very good mother, that I wasn’t a natural mother. So, being a member of the NCT, I started volunteering. I joined the committee as branch secretary, I helped out at their weekly mother and toddler group, I co-ordinated newsletter deliverys and I helped out at Nearly New Sales.
For example, when the boy arrived and with my second bout of post-natal depression I withdrew from the NCT scene and threw myself into other people and their children. I would meet with people in the morning, at lunch time and in the afternoon. There was certainly no time left over for thinking about what was really going on.
For example, the boy’s nut allergy. When he was diagnosed I had all sorts of schemes in my head about setting up support groups and getting in touch with other people who were in a similar boat. Thinking about that meant I didn’t have to think about the fact that I was actually having to deal with a potentially fatal (I always feel like typing that in caps) nut allergy myself.
The funny thing though, is that I’ve only just realised that that was what I was doing.
You see, the girl starts school in September and I don’t really want her to.
I hated school.
Not because I disliked authority or found the work too hard. The opposite really. I like having a structure and someone to tell me what to do, and although I like to swan around pretending to be a bit dim, in fact I’m reasonably intelligent and should have done well at school.
When I went to my second secondary school though, I was a bit different to everyone else.
My second secondary school was a mixed comprehensive in a not very affluent town in the West Country. My first secondary school was a super-selective grammer school in Kent (see, told you I’m not that dim). My primary school was a private school, also in Kent, where I had elocution lessons (I didn’t want to, but my goodness I can complain in a posh voice and it does get things done sometimes).
When my family moved to the West Country and I started at my second secondary school I sounded, acted and looked totally different to everyone else. To compound matters, I wasn’t (and still am not) very self-confident. I might even have had braces on my teeth at the time, I can’t remember exactly when that was, but it would seem likely that it was then. I was bullied mercilessly (is there any other sort?) from my first day at school to the day I left. I can’t remember what I was planning then, most likely how soon I could move back to London.
The girl starts school in September and I want it to be different for her. It probably will be because she is a different person to me and she will approach school differently precisely because of my experiences. I hope so but I’m scared that it won’t be. So, I’m planning and I’m plotting. I’m already involved in some things that might be happening at the school she’ll probably be going to. I’ve come up with any number of exciting new jobs that I could do. Remember the link between my plots and plans and the thing I’m worrying about? I’m thinking maybe I could do some work in a school, paid or volunteer, I haven’t worked out what yet but it’s keeping my mind occupied. It’s the brain equivalent of white noise.
On the upside, there is only a finite amount I can worry about at any one time. I’ve been mentally overwhelmed since having children (did I tell you about the 3 times the girl stopped breathing when she was 1? It turned out it was nothing to worry about, but it still scared the life out of me at the time) and my brain, like a sponge, can only hold so much.
On the upside, I’ve taken the boy out to tea at other people’s houses 3 times in the last 2 weeks.
On the upside, I made a mean leek and potato soup today. I always cook best when I’m worried.
