Moan moan moan

I’ve started this blog to carry on from my initial post-stroke Facebook posts, with the aim of spreading positivity and gratitude and hilarious anecdotes about a mother with a broken brain.

Upon reading back my FB and comparing it to his blog, I’ve made an interesting discovery: I’ve not in the slightest spread positivity and gratitude and graced my readers with hilarious stories about a mother with a broken brain.

Instead, I feel like I am moaning.

Now, the psychologists amongst you (and I think I’ve got a couple of mind doctors as my followers), what do you make of this? Is a blog PER SE a medium to moan? To anyone who has the patience to listen? Or do I need to change my tune?

My first Facebook post from hospital back in October 18 read something like I’m so happy to be alive and these are the FAST rules to spot a stroke. I got ca 120 likes.

Another one was about my recovery (at least initially) going really well and I’d always finish every story with a positive. Same, lots of likes and lovely feedback.

People like positivity and no one wants to read the drivel of a whinger. But then, writing a blog makes it so bloody tempting to whinge, doesn’t it? It’s like an online journal after all and I’m pouring out my deepest thoughts to the world. And they’re definitely not always chirpy chirpy.

I’ve said it before, I do love a good moan. I think it’s important to get shizzle off your chest. I feel liberated and definitely in a better mood after a good complaining session, and pondering on why the blog hasn’t turned out to be a shining beacon of a happy string of consciousness, is perhaps because at home I have no one who really listens.

This is not meant in a nasty way. But life is so hectic with two children, no grandparents to take them off us for a few hours a week, trying to run a business and dealing with the aftermath of a life changing illness, everyone just flops into bed at around 9pm. There is no time for meaningful conversations and describing your inner fears. All we want is sleep and a few hours of quiet before one child wakes and screams, followed by the next one who’s decided that sleeping spread across Mummy is most fun and relaxing (when does this stop btw, the coming to our bed? I kind of love it but Can’t. Get. No. Sleep!!)

Having lived in Britain for almost 14 years now, I think it’s also fair to say that moaning is part of the German identity. It’s just what people do. If you ask someone in Germany how they are, the answer tends to be a rather lengthy discourse on the state of their physical and mental health, and oh, what the neighbours are up to and what outrageous thing happened last night. Expect a complain fest.

In contrast, a Brit will answer with a polite “not too bad thank you” and we carry on. So, it’s definitely something in the German mentality that might make me more prone to moaning. Or is this just an excuse?

When I first met my husband he thought I was a whinger. I thought I was just being normal, talking about stuff, and as we say in Germany “life is no pony farm”, so naturally you also talk about the crap things that would happen to you. But a moaner, me? I was dumbfounded.

So, I started keeping things to myself a little more I guess but I can’t say that bottling things up is the way forward for me. It causes me stress and stress was 100% a contributor to my stroke.

So, I think I’ve probably answered my own question. The blog has become an outlet, something I can park (as my clever and incredibly strong and lovely neighbour described it today), and it’s a cathartic process to help me deal with the new life after stroke. And if that involves a bit of moaning, that’s ok, right?

Too much froth on this one

#moaning #strokesurvivor #parenting #

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s