I’m having blogging anxiety. I haven’t posted anything since last Thursday because I was away with work for three days and then had a birthday-that-wasn’t-my-birthday day of celebrating yesterday. Oh, and I’m very grateful to Mr Murray for putting on such a good show in my honour. Thank you, Sir!
But it’s meant no blogging and that’s made me feel very odd. A bit disconnected. A bit more independent, on the one hand, and a bit more isolated, on the other. I figure this anxiety makes me a true blogger or neurotic. Whatever: it’s a good job this isn’t handwritten as you might see the shakes in my letters…
But all of this is actually good news . If you read the post I wrote last week you’ll have seen how nervous I was about leaving the kids and of having to explain to so many colleagues and friends what has happened to Mr Boo since his birth last year.
But you know what? I pulled it off. I actually pulled it off. It was hard, but it got easier. The more people I told, the more easily the words tripped off my tongue. People were sorry but I didn’t feel pitied. I was treated to a wonderful surprise party in a pub thrown by some of my good UK and US friends on my birthday. I had used up a year’s supply of hugs by 09.45 on the first day. I felt loved and I feel incredibly lucky.
I won’t lie. It’s bloody hard not having family live near by. It’s especially hard that my sister and my other best friend live so many hours drive away. And I know there are lots of lovely folks who would freely offer more hands on support if they lived nearer us. But they don’t and can’t. The logistics of our everyday life are overwhelming at times. But I realise I have something as important as practical support. I have many lovely and amazing friends, who care deeply about us, even though I don’t get to see many of them often.
They and the lovely people who read this blog, chat with me on Twitter or email me show me that I am not alone at all. And the past few days have shown me how much both of these communities (my work colleagues and friends and you lovely bloggers and blog readers) mean to me and how much I rely upon them emotionally, if not practically.
At 37 I feel more rooted, more sure of my priorities, and more connected to others than I have ever done before.
Roll on 38, I say!