Getting it off my chest

I had a cry this morning.

You see, I’ve always been a girly girl and wanted babies. To dress them, to play, to help this little person grow, and also the associated things that go with it.. a partner, love, and a groovy little home to house my groovy little family.

But this last year, I’ve completely decided against having kids. I mean, I’m nearly 30, and the last time I ended up in hospital with an overdose was less than 4 months ago. I’ve had depression for more than a decade, and it’s not getting better. Sure, I can handle it a bit more on good days, but geez, it’s not something that I can see leaving in the foreseeable future, and how on earth am I meant to be able to look after a baby when I can’t even look after myself?

There’s also the crazy hormone factor that goes with being pregnant – I just don’t think, realistically, it’s something that I can see myself coping with.

Then there’s also the fact that I am the eternal single girl. I can count the boyfriends I’ve had in my life on one hand. And even they have an average lifespan of less than a year. This isn’t through lack of want, but hmmm, go figure, cause I just don’t know. It’s gotten so dire that I am seriously considering speed dating. *sigh*

So anyway, I was reading the new Frankie today, and there was a story on fatherhood, and I knew 3 out of the 4 dads in the story. And the dads might have been separated or not, but they were all kinda groovy dads. Young, groovy, music loving, devoted dads. It killed me.

They were the kind of dads that I’d love to have be a dad to my little one. They’re the dads that I have always pictured living with me in the groovy little house. And you know, I just don’t think it’s going to happen. The kids. Or the partner.

It’s a pretty sad thought and no matter how often I tell myself that you don’t know what’s around the corner and that some times I absolutely love being single (I’ve always been pretty independant), I can’t lie forever and say that it doesn’t hurt so much that no one wants to be with me. It sux, plain and simple.

And in an hour I might feel a lot better and be happy again and wonder who wrote this gloomy post, but it’s just something I wanted to get off my chest. So maybe if one day I do become the groovy happy mum in the cool little house, I can look back and see that life didn’t always suck.