The End. (Maybe.)
It’s been a while; oh I do know it has been a while.
I can’t tell you what has been keeping me away, because the truth is I am not so sure myself.
Actually I am.
So many reasons have kept me away really, but ultimately if I tick them off one by one, at the bottom of the pile, like a smelly old sock, lies the smouldering, stinky and unwanted reason that has meant each and every time I reached for my laptop, I pulled my hand away as if i had been burnt.
(That is a terrible Metaphor. Why would a sock burn me? But anyway, if you wouldn’t mind terribly bearing with me on the metaphor front I promise they will get better. I should probably admit now, I am a little drunk. OK, a lot drunk. And everyone knows that metaphors are impossible when one is inebriated, so in all honesty I think I did rather well. A sock may burn you if it has been there a really long time. And it is next to the radiator. OR IS ON FIRE!
I also apologise for turning up here, after weeks of absence, blind drunk, but I feel I should explain, I had to get drunk to open the laptop. Because of that bloody sock. Normal service may return when I sober up.)
I guess in a way, I feel like a fallen glitter ball that has shattered in to a million shards, each shard a splintering and painful reminder of why I am unable to write.
I never wrote for stats, not that there is anything wrong in doing so.
To see each person visit and read and like a post, well that is Tequila for the soul in itself isn’t it? It always gives me a warm feeling when I get a like, so I guess saying I didn’t write for stats is actually a lie isn’t it? because don’t we all hope for someone to listen to us in someway? At somepoint in our lives?
I don’t do reviews, I envy and admire those who do but for me, writing has always been about the words my soul won’t allow my voice to speak, and as I find it quite easy to speak about the day to day, reviews I guess, just never floated my boat.
Plus I am absolute shite at writing them.
Do you remember that one I did at the beginning for the baby sling? And I didn’t want to put the baby in the sling, so I put the dog in it instead and then proudly posted loads of photos of me carrying around Doodle the Poodle? I thought that was genius. Turns out Babasling didn’t agree.
And oh oh! Then I did that one for Dyson about how awesome the ‘Hoover’ was as it sucked up all the hair from my drain, and they got all arsy cos Apparently I should have called it a ‘Vacuum’ (well excuuuuse me) and also they didnt want me to promote thier product as a drain cleaner, as it could potentially electrocute people to death. Well, how the hell was I supposed to know??
I think I am on the review blacklist cos all I get sent now is people offering to write for me.
Thank you to those bloggers who do review though and write about crafts, post photos and teach me how to be a mother, as it is because of you I have grown as a parent, taken your ideas and presented them to my beautiful boy (as my own) and eventually fallen in love
Not only have I found days out, products and smiles in the midst of an era that has just about finished me off, but I have also seen genuine tenderness and concern and experienced a sense of friendship and community like no other, and I will always be grateful for our huge, crazy, sad and sometimes argumentative and bonkers community.
(See how honest I am when drunk?)
I guess, in a way, over the weeks of delusional and sometimes acutely paranoid silence, due to the sock, not only did I lose my way, but I also lost the desire to put anything down on paper, just in case…
I was too scared to speak, to write, to even open the Damn laptop.
My blog, my writing has always about been about cleansing, sharing and in someway telling my story, my life, and the way I am living it.
Mammywoo was my space to do whatever I wanted, to say whatever I felt, my freedom, my comfort and my tiny space in a world of trillions that was existentially me.
Somewhere I was safe no matter what.
No one could hurt me or have a go at me for writing here and if they did, because of you, my gorgeous followers, I had the courage to tell them to Cock off.
And then all of a sudden that changed.
It became a weapon being used against me.
I was challenged in a way I have never experienced before and this place, this paradise was no longer the place I ran to, the place I adored, but a cold and unwelcoming residence, where I had to watch my language, my words, my feelings and in some ways, retain some dignity and privacy in the face of the most intense of cyber bullies I have experienced.
A cyber Twat, if you will, who knows me inside out and then began to surreptitiously and with the most intense of cunning use everything I had ever written and felt, against me.
I would feel her wherever I went, whenever I spoke, whenever I looked in the corner at my writing space, and especially when I was struggling and needed to reach out.
I began holding back from grabbing my beautiful laptop, from feeling the rush of words on paper, my fingers flying over the keyboard as I emptied my humanity in a way I had never been able to do before, and instead found myself mindlessly playing Candy Crush. (Level 156 bitches!!)
The laptop lay lifeless.
Having just turned it on now, it punished me, presenting me with the dreaded blue screen and a message telling me it no longer loved me.
(Screw you error code 202. We love each other! Seriously, If my Macbook Pro could get a job and change bedding I think I would marry it.)
I was going to write this evening to say goodbye.
I had planned a long and drawn out thank you post.
I was going to apologise and bid you all a huge thank you for sticking with me, I was going to pretend to be fine now and then shut Mammywoo down.
(I am not fine. I am playing my part.)
I still think in a way, it may be time to say goodbye to this dusty and forgotten corner of my world which holds so much pain and joy for me but I also hope has helped others, but….
But now I’m here I am starting to remember the strength it gives me.
And really, who has time to set up an anonymous blog anyway?
Maybe, just maybe, I should just continue to be honest and not let it beat me.
And to say goodbye would be to admit defeat wouldn’t it?
So maybe a rest is as good as a…
what is the end of that saying?
I think I may be back.
*please do not ever use a Babasling to hold a dog and whatever you do, do NOT use the
hoover Dyson to clean out the bath drain, it may not end well for you.