Sleepwalk capsules

So, it turns out the suicide bombers in London were British. Perhaps, for a moment at least, the hysterical "shut all the borders, send them back to where they came from" crying from the right-wing press (amongst others) will be quiet. I saw a rather telling and interesting interview on the beeb this morning, a group of 5 muslim guys in their late teens. Whilst they abhor the violence that has resulted, they have qualms as to where to lay the blame. They cited incidents in Iraqi and Afghanistan which go unreported, bombings and killings daily of innocent Iraqis, stories which barely make the news over here. Bill, back in the studio, (who I detest btw) couldn’t seem to grasp this and then proved the point by making no reference to the car bomb which killed children in Iraq yesterday. Their lifes are as important as those who died in London and yet they don’t warrant a mention. I’m struggling to understand the world we live in these days.

All of which makes me wonder why exactly I do want to get pregnant. Do I really want to raise a child in this world? Look around, it’s a mess. Poverty, terrorism (in many forms), global warming. This is no place to bequeath our children. And I get so mad when it seems so few people care. Live8, for example, was practically a buzzword in our office for the week leading up to the concerts. People couldn’t wait to watch it. But now it’s old news. It’s been, gone, and everyone was aware of Africa for that one week. But they couldn’t tell you what they’d done since to make a difference, not even a charity donation or two. Some look bemused at me buying Fair Trade items, not understanding why I do it. And all of it makes me wonder why I am bothering. What difference can one person make?

I’m getting off track again. I’m not pregnant. I’d somehow managed to convince myself that the lower back pain, slight nausea and lack of AF made for pregnancy. I’d even had dreams about being pregnant, ffs. I just ended up worked up about the whole thing, so last Thursday morning, I tested and it was negative. Which I kind of suspected. I’d just managed to let that glimmer of hope run away with itself a little. I’m getting sick of seeing friends, who comment every time, "When will you be announcing a new arrival?" Just because Tony and Kelly announced she was pregnant 5 weeks after the wedding, doesn’t mean we will. And yet, I also get from my mum "I don’t want to be a grandmother, not any time soon, not for a good few years yet." I find this equally upsetting, almost like she’s happy I’m not pregnant, happy my body is a f*cking disaster zone inside, happy I can’t find a sympathetic doctor. All of which makes me upset and desperate to comfort eat, which is the worst thing that I can do right now, seeing as I’m dieting and all.
I feel like I am sleepwalking through life. There’s so little I feel happy with right now – my marriage is definitely something I feel happy about, don’t get me wrong there. But everything else? Not so much.

Until there is a next time…

xx