The rock in the storm

I got a phonecall from Natalie the other day. She told me after visiting my blog that she was starting to get worried. I told her that perhaps my posts were starting to veer towards the suicidal and we both laughed. She told me, I had to let it out one way or another. So true.
And that got me thinking. About letting things out. And about having friends who care. About finding a soft place to fall into when feeling like crap and and climb out of when you want to put up a fight and say "I've just about had enough of this depression malarky". I put myself out there, i admitted to my own weaknesses, because i wanted to know how much people care. And they do. They help in whatever small way they can. despite the distance,the busy schedule despite the uncertainty of not knowing how to. I didnt have to ask for it. But if i did it was welcomed as an invitation to get together rather than a quick exchange of "call me if you need anything" which usually means "I know shes not gonna call, but she cant say I didnt tell her, and at least I'll go to heaven for being such a lovely friend". What a load of pants. And thank God I dont have friends who do that. Anyway,I think all of this stems from the crash course in Motherhood for Dummies over the last seven weeks and how it has brought home a truth thats both beautiful and downright ugly as hell. The beautiful part is seeing my dysfunctional family becoming somewhat functional again, all because of Isaac. Its amazing how a baby can heal old wounds. After years and years of bitterness, I finally let my mum do what she has wanted to do for so long and that is to take care of me and guide me. That one precious week that they were here, was chicken soup for my frazzled soul. I let my mum be my mum and she did a grand job.It wasnt just my family though that came out of the woodworks to lift me out of the headfog. Having people who I wouldnt have considered as close friends, turning up at our door with bags of grocery shopping, and minestrone soup. Thats what did it for me. Thats what I call a beautiful thing. I didnt need to prove anything to them or to myself. That is where the ugly part lies.
Ive felt at times that, as a new mother, Ive had to prove that I can manage because its my bed and I have to lie in it. Its like somebody has awarded me with a badge of invisibility which Im supposed to wear with pride, when in reality i want to throw it back in their face and say " Who says that just because Ive had a baby I cant still be vulnerable and afraid and well...normal?" Those that have helped, the friends that have stood by me, that have called and emailed and commented on my blog, and my functional one of a kind family, theyve all allowed me to winge, moan , complain, get it all wrong without a condescending bone in their collective bodies. The ugly part is when I can't be normal in front of certain people.Particularly other mothers. Because of that bloody badge of invisibility stamped on my backside. The unspoken amendment that says all new mothers must endure being ignored, being judged and being spoken down to. They must accept that all kind offers for help without any intention whatsoever of actually helping, is all a completely normal part of being a new mum. Thats the ugly truth. And for me, its downright hideous because I dont even come from this country. And believe me, its one thing being a foreigner in a foreign land, but a mother? The invisibility badge is more like a brown paper bag over my head. Theres no honour in that.
Well. Im here to tell you, that I want to quit focusing on the ugly and start paying more attention to the beautiful. Where I can winge, moan, laugh, cry and be human, because there is nothing that has prepared me to be more human than when I brought this child into the world. I have to be myself ultimately. It would be a disservice to my son, to turn into a not so super, supermum. I'd rather just be Khairun.