Roller coaster!

I haven’t written for a long time again. I could bring forth all my excuses, but that’s all they are – excuses. I don’t know why, but somehow my introversion kicks in to the point sometimes where I can’t even bring myself to ‘talk’ to a screen and write out what I’m thinking or what has been going on.

So, what has been going on? A lot! Biggest news – I’m pregnant. We’re very excited, and yes, it was planned. Because we’re not married, I’m finding the vast majority of people have asked tentatively if it was planned. Like we couldn’t possibly have decided to have a child out of wedlock. I’m actually quite surprised how old fashioned people still are. I feel like explaining to them that it’s quite miraculous – I don’t need a band of gold or a diamond on my left ring finger to trigger feelings of wanting to be a mother, or to boost my fertility. But I don’t. I usually succumb and explain to them that Simon and I decided that we’re not getting any younger, and didn’t want to wait another year or two until we’re married, in case it takes us a while to fall pregnant. I’ve seen my best friend go through many painful years of IVF before her little one arrived, so we wanted to get started in case that was part of our journey too. Fortunately for us, it wasn’t and here we are! I’m 16 weeks tomorrow, and while I’m thrilled we’ll have a bouncing baby boy soon, I’ve got to say I’m not a fan of pregnancy.

First trimester was a terrifying blend of cramps (oh god, am I losing it?), nausea (plastic bags in my handbag for emergencies), utter exhaustion (any form of lying down turned into naps) and just bewilderment at all the changes happening so rapidly to my body. I’ve never been good with bodily changes. As an INFJ, sensing is my least active attribute, so when it goes into hyperdrive I’m basically operating against myself. So I catastrophise and worry and analyse everything to the nth degree. It’s been a learning curve for me to try to just ‘go with it’ and treat it all as part of the journey. I’ve had some hip problems recently that saw me hobbling far earlier than expected, so I’m off to the physio this week to get that sorted. I have my first midwife appointment this week too, which I’m looking forward to, as my GP is really not great with pregnancy!

On top of all of that, Simon’s dad got diagnosed with cancer and has rapidly declined. He told us the week we were going to tell them our good news, so that turned that moment into a bittersweet one. A couple of weeks later, he had a 4.5kg tumour removed, along with the kidney it was growing in, and his ureter and some lesions  in his bladder. They snicked the tumour on the way out so he’ll have to have chemo. They hadn’t started that yet, but he was in intense pain for 2 weeks after the operation. That all came to a head on Monday night, when he collapsed in immense pain, broke out in a sweat and went delirious. An ambulance was called, they called another for senior support when they discovered his blood pressure was 50 over 40. He was rushed to the nearest hospital and has been in ICU ever since.

We haven’t been to work all week, and it’s amazing how quickly something becomes the new normal. We’d get up, shower, wait for a call from Simon’s mum and then head into ICU to take shifts at his bedside. He’d had an internal bleed from his splenic artery and lost half his blood. There have been other complications along the way as they tried to sort that out, so we’ve been on a hideous roller coaster of hope and fear, with a few moments where we really weren’t sure he’d make it. He’s still in ICU now, but his haemoglobin levels  have finally stabilised, and they’ve given him even more blood again to try to bring them up. It’s a day at a time at the moment, and a very long road to recovery ahead. With the cancer, they’d said if the operation went well, he’d be feeling great & up and about in about 3 weeks. Not happening. Now it will be 6 weeks before he stops feeling completely exhausted, then 3 months before he feels remotely well. He’ll have to do rehab to build up his strength again, and still has to tackle chemo somehow. He’s always been such a larger than life, strong guy, it’s devastating for the whole family to see him like this.

So, a lot going on at the moment! I’m just reeling from one thing to the next, trying to support Simon and still make sure I’m doing the right thing for our baby, so it’s incredibly difficult. And instead of these months being about people supporting me through the pregnancy journey, it’s more me expending my energy to look after others. Which I don’t mind, but I’ve got to try to remember I have another little person to look after now too, even though he’s inside of me and I tend to not think of my own bodily needs at times like this!

 

Lose the battle but win the war

Yet again, I’ve set myself too many resolutions this year, and at least one has slipped. I try to trick myself by telling myself they’re not resolutions, they’re just plans for staying on top of things. But the thing about tricking yourself is that you always know you are! So here I am, the last Sunday of the month, writing my first blog post when I’d promised myself I’d at least write every Sunday (in at least one of my blogs). But better late than never, I suppose!

My other plans have been going pretty well – I decided to do a bit of housework every day so that by the time I hit Saturday I don’t do it all in one go, in a foul mood because it’s eating up my precious non-work hours. It’s worked out so far, and it’s definitely helped with my stress levels. Not having piles of dirty dishes to deal with, or bits of mess lying around helps me keep my head clean as well as the general household.

Work started out well for the first week and a half, and then everyone else came back from holidays and it very quickly ramped back up into the chaos and tension of the last part of last year. I could feel the old anxiety and overwhelming workload rushing back, so I spoke to my manager again and he’s assured me he’s locked in a date for me to come off one of my projects. Fingers crossed it actually happens, as I can’t keep this up long this year – last year burned me out and I haven’t got my stamina back yet.

Both projects are pretty full of conflict these days, which is my Achilles heel – I’m an INFJ on the MBTI scale, and the part about us loving harmony really rings true for me. But I’m pretty proud of myself this week – I had 2 confrontations that I found quite  scary, but they involved me sticking up for people under my leadership so I did it without batting an eyelid (just walked away afterwards wondering how I’d managed it!). The result is that out of one confrontation I ensured one of my team members gets the long weekend she definitely deserves (and desperately needs!), as well as being able to still attend the training she was due to go to this coming week. I was horrified when my project managers tried to argue she shouldn’t attend because it ‘wasn’t relevant to the project at this time, or to her immediate future’. What the? You’re going to stop someone’s professional development and stunt their career because you want her to stick around doing your dirty work for a couple of days? I don’t think so. I think if they hadn’t lead with that, I probably wouldn’t have been so insistent in the subsequent conversation, but that just disgusted me so I was all fired up with righteous anger. I was very polite, but very firm about why she should not be held back. It still gets me all riled up now just thinking about it!

I’m also helping  out with a women’s mentoring program this year. I participated in it last year as a mentee, and wanted to give back to the people who helped me gain focus on my career and strengthen my confidence – I doubt I would have handled the situations this week as well as I did if I hadn’t had a year of talking through how to handle myself in the workplace and learning about how women are treated (both through experiencing it myself and reading about it). I had to bite down my feminist rage last week and remind myself that I can’t win every battle but I can win the war – I have been trying to put in place a strategy on one project that would mean a large chunk of the problems we’ve been having would be solved. No one would listen to me until a male member of my team proposed it as well. Ooh, that got me mad. But I decided to just let it slide and be glad that my strategy was finally in place. And then surprisingly this week, my (male, dominant) project manager is treating me more like an equal, and gave me full credit for the strategy  (which I quickly shared with my team, because while it was my idea originally, they all helped with the final strategic plan). So I’m one step closer to breaking the boys’ club mentality. It’s so tough and incredibly frustrating sometimes though – I like to think the problem isn’t there, but from time to time it really rubs your nose in it.

Missing – my sanity…

Life has been pretty crazy lately. We’re pretty close to being done  with the renovations now, thank goodness. We moved in a few weeks ago, so it’s slowed down a little while we unpack and breathe after 2  months of intensity. I am starting to worry we’ll fall into the trap so many folk have fallen into before though – move in, and then never quite get around to painting that door, fixing that handle etc. So tomorrow we’re determined to get the paint out again and get things moving along again.

Work has been pretty nuts as well. I got a promotion a  couple of months ago, which meant I was getting paid at the level I was already working, so that was great. But somehow since then the level of expectations of me have risen again and I’m so insanely busy. The main problem for me is that I’m an introvert (like 100% on the MBTI scale) and my role now puts me in meetings ALL DAY. As in, I have to excuse myself from meetings to go to the toilet, and have had to block time in my calendar to make sure I get a lunch break, as there were days when that just didn’t happen.

As a result, I’ve been feeling pretty wrecked. Poor Simon’s been patiently suffering through my short tempers and listlessness in the evenings and on weekends. I don’t like being that way though. He has his own stresses at work, so I do support him with that, but I feel like I’m not myself lately. I hope other introverts out there will understand what I mean when I say I feel like I’m having to be someone else for too many people – everyone has an expectation of me, and I don’t like letting people down, so I’m working against my own personality a lot of the time to get by and succeed. Which leads to me getting grumpy,  because I feel like I never get to do/be what I want to do/be. Healthy.

I’m not entirely sure how to get my equilibrium back. [Side note- Simon just came in and read this over my shoulder, rubbed my back and told me I need to take a valium, haha]. I have a public holiday coming up, and Simon’s working that day, so I’m looking forward to having a day to myself with no people. I feel like I just never get that anymore, and that’s what I need to keep me sane. I’ve tried to block out some other days off in the next couple of months too. My projects at work are insane so I can’t really take multiple days off at a time, but I have about a week of time in lieu accrued due to doing ridiculous overtime last month, so I’m going to take a couple of Fridays off and give myself some long weekends. Even if the weekends end up having people in them, if I can get a Friday with no one, maybe I can claw my way back to normal.

Any introverts out there with tips on how to get some energy back when you can’t escape being around people all day?

The end is nigh…the end of my 20s, that is

It is officially the last night of my 20s, folks! Tomorrow I bid farewell to 29 and join the brigade of the 30-somethings. I believe that means from now on I will need to check a different box on forms – no longer part of the 25-29 demographic!

I always thought I’d feel worse about turning 30. Everyone holds it up as this hideous looming doom as you move through your 20s, every birthday peppered by comments about how you’re on the downward slope, not long now, enjoy it while it lasts. But really, your 20s are just hard work. Sure, there’s a lot of fun times, and the ability to stay up all night without falling in a heap for a week afterwards is sorely missed, but mostly it’s a lot of existential angst and wondering what on earth you’re going to do with the next 60-80 years of your life.

I had one momentary pang of anxiety and sadness just before when Simon was teasing me about getting old, but that’s just the usual anxiety crap that bubbles away in my brain awaiting a horror thought to latch onto. For the most part, I’m not fussed. I think a lot of the dread is that you won’t have your shit sufficiently together by the time you hit 30 (whoever set that as the aspiration should be given a swift clip up the back of their head). Surprisingly (and I am surprised), I have been fortunate enough to get my shit together – I’m actually really happy with how my life is at the moment. The anxiety voice immediately tells me not to say that because something awful will happen to take it away, but I’m going to hush that for a moment and comfort myself with my move into 30-dom.

One thing that is both wonderful and highly stressful at the moment is our house. I think I mentioned in my last post that we bought our first home. The plan was to give it a freshen up – new paint, new curtains, maybe re-polish the floorboards. Oh my. That turned into a full blown renovation! There was some asbestos in the laundry & toilet (normal in houses of that era here), which we knew about and Simon’s parents insisted on having removed. In the process of doing that, it became clear it was in the bathroom too, so out comes the whole bathroom! Which was a big deal, but we’d planned on doing the bathroom at some point (in a few years!), so it just moved that forward. But by taking the walls off, we could see the wiring. Luckily for us, Simon’s sister’s partner is an electrician and he took one look & saw the whole place needed rewiring. Though I’m not sure we needed a sparky’s opinion on that – there were a couple of wires literally bandaided together. I mean with an actual band aid. Wtf.

Plus the heater had to come out, so we’re doing ducted heating. And a whole bunch of other things that are a mix of our ideas, other people’s ideas (I reached the point where I said ‘no more thoughts on things!’ to everyone), disasters that need to be remedied and dodgy building stuff that needs to be fixed. All of which is great and means we’ll have a safe, nice house to live in, but has meant we’re watching our accounts bleed away and a lot of work has had to be done by everyone. I’ve had a few meltdowns, but Simon has been very supportive for the most part, and last night took me through an imaginary journey through the house to help me emotionally reconnect with it, which was exactly what I needed.

One interesting experience for me, as a feminist, however – I have noticed that as a woman, every time you voice an opinion on something in a building, or contribute to a discussion about something, people immediately cast you into the role of nagging shrew. If I disagree with Simon about how the shower head should be positioned, it’s greeted by the tradies (friends of the family) with ‘Oh no, better listen to the missus or there’ll be trouble’ etc. etc. At one point, the guy doing our plumbing said ‘Yeah mate, when we were doing our house, I did our whole bathroom, but I still had to check everything with the missus or I’d be in trouble!’ I retorted with ‘Well, it is her house as well’, which was completely ignored. Simon and I have a very fair relationship, so we discuss things as equals. I’m paying for a lot of this house, and we share a life, so my opinions about what the house should look like should be treated equally. And they just weren’t – not even by non-tradies, and not even by the women in some cases! It was quite an eye opener, and really pissed me off. I told Simon what was going on, and he admitted he hadn’t noticed but could definitely see what I was talking about. It was really good to hear him say that it was quite derogatory and that he’d stand up for me the next time it happened. I wish he didn’t have to, but since then there have been no more issues.

Anyway, I’m going to go, as I’m pretty exhausted by the craziness that is life at the moment, and I’m really craving some time in front of the TV – I have so many shows waiting for me on the IQ. Good night!

Women – our own enemies and saviours.

Obviously, I’ve been fairly terrible at keeping the promise to myself of posting at least every Saturday. Honestly though, work has been so insanely busy that my weekends are full of all the bits and pieces of things I haven’t had time to do during the week. Poor excuse I know, but it’s the truth.  I don’t think I’ve ever been this challenged in a role, and it’s testing my ability to stand firm on my work-life balance – I did overtime for the first time this week! Trying to keep a tight handle on that, but the next two weeks are critical for the project I’m on, so I don’t have a whole lot of choice!

Anyway, just because work has been consuming the bulk of my time, it doesn’t mean I’ve been completely isolated from the world. The internet remains my friend, and my free moments have been curled up on the couch with Simon. He’s been amazingly supportive of my forgetfulness and tearful confessions of being overwhelmed and exhausted by the brain drain of this new job.

This week has been an up and down one as a feminist also. Early in the week, I became aware of something called the LFL. It’s been around for a while, apparently, but I hadn’t encountered it before. And I have to say, it made my feminist hackles raise up and I got as angry about the world’s view of women as I’ve been in a very, very long time. For those of you who are yet to encounter this abomination to the women’s movement, it’s the Legends Football League. Sounds awesome, right? It’s not. Take a look at this video:

It’s more commonly known as the Lingerie Football League. It’s a bunch of women wearing underwear, playing gridiron. What…the…damn…hell? How on earth are women going to ever be treated as equals when we participate in our own degradation? I’m sorry ladies, no one’s there to watch your sporting prowess. If you were fully clothed, your football league would fall into the same category as every other women’s sporting group. We all know that women’s sport is horribly under represented in the media (Gender in Televised Sport). But taking your clothes off for the visual titillation of the audience? Not the way to get respect, ladies. I’m completely horrified by the whole thing. Simon quipped that maybe it’s aerodynamic. My response – if that was true, why aren’t all the male sportsmen running around in their jocks? The ‘outfits’ these women are wearing are lingerie, pure and simple. They even go so far as wearing garters, suspenders (sans stockings) and ribbon collars a la Playboy. I’m so angry at them for doing this, contributing to the sexual objectification of women. Seriously, are we only worth paying attention to if we’re pleasing a male audience? Have we done nothing to dispel this?

Whilst I was raging about this, I saw a fantastic video trying to change the way we speak about girls and the impact our words can have on a developing young woman. It’s a powerful little video and very telling about how far we still have to go in our society. But it did go a long way to restoring my faith that there are people out there still ‘fighting the good fight’ trying to make things better for women. I just hope the girls in this video never witness the LFL.