Skip to main content

The Bath As I Slip Under CHAPTER 7 — The Bath

 


CHAPTER 7 — The Bath


Home.

My family home.

I guess it was never really a family home.

Everyone talking at me.

Everyone telling me what to do.

Everyone visiting.

The mask on and off.

On and off.


I think I’m getting the hang of it —

the panic of adding the right amount of scoops to the formula.

My brain doesn’t work so well,

so I keep throwing it away and trying again,

because I worry I’ll hurt him.

Making bottles is a traumatic experience.


And then the milk kicks in.

No one told me about this.

I’m so lucky we have a friendly neighbour.

She dashes over with cabbage and hot flannels.

They run me a bath for the pain.

I can’t even imagine.

My stomach is tight.

My breasts are so big

they feel like they’re bursting out of their skin.

I’ve become the Hulk.

Just when I thought there was no more pain —

don’t touch me.

Hurts me more.


I’m getting in the bath.

I shut the door.

I put my head under the water.

It goes quiet.


Let me die quietly.


As I slip under the water,

as I feel myself let go of the side of the bath,

my youngest brother knocks on the bathroom door.

He tells me he needs the loo.


He wakes me from my insanity.

I pull myself out.

I put my dressing gown on.

I face the day.

 

Footnote The friendly neighbour, Jill Jones (if this where a book i would dedicate it to her) she was a force of nature, a real life Tornado.   

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Dear Molly, my strong, funny, tenacious, independent, courageous daughter.

  Dear Molly, my strong, funny, tenacious, independent, courageous daughter. So if I got paid for every time someone told me my daughter looks fabulous, I’d be a millionaire. A millionaire for every doctor who ignored you, for every professional who let you slip through the cracks, for every moment when the full information, the full picture, the full respect wasn’t given. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it isn’t there. Today is for you, Molly. And for the future generations of our family — because this is genetic, because this is inherited, because someone needs to notice and someone needs to ask the right questions. I have become, by necessity, a hormonal expert. A mother who had to learn what the system refused to teach. And through it all, your husband — your rock — has moved mountains beside you, carrying what others refused to see, loving you through every unseen storm. I wish PMDD looked like your arm falling off. Because if people could see it, they’d care. Docto...

Going Shopping in the Menopausal Way

  Going Shopping in the Menopausal Way A menopausal purchase is planetary. The sun must shine. The temperature must be just right. You must be neither dipping nor surging — just perfectly balanced in the hormonal moment. Because unless you buy exactly when the stars align, it will get returned. You’ll love it on the day. But if the scales tip even slightly — by the next morning, it’s on the fence. If you’re lucky, you’ll return it. If not, it’ll sit in your wardrobe for 28 days until the return window closes. Then it’s either sold on Vinted for a quarter of the price or left to haunt you. There’s a lot resting on a menopausal buy. It’s not just a purchase — it’s a mood, a moment, a miracle. I never realised this until I saw how small my wardrobe was. Not because the shops weren’t there — but because I wasn’t there when I got there. You leave the house feeling great. You arrive at the shops and suddenly… not so great. So the purchase is less than mediocre. ...

The Baby Whale and the Circle of Sharks

  🌊 The Baby Whale and the Circle of Sharks A children’s story inspired by Maverick George’s real beginning Intro for Molly and Ryan When Baby Whale was born, the ocean shook. The Sea Health Service — the SHS — whispered to his parents that he had the rarest lung trouble they had seen in sixty tides . His mum, the gentle whale Molly, had just brought him into the world. His dad, the brave whale Ryan, stayed outside the coral surgery cave for hours, swimming back and forth, bringing news, bringing hope, bringing love. Baby Whale needed help right away. Not because he was weak — but because he was special , and his tiny blowhole needed extra care to learn how to breathe. That was only the beginning. 🌊 Chapter One: The Circle of Sharks From the moment Baby Whale opened his eyes, the sharks were already circling. Not the big, fierce sharks — not the ones who bite in one terrible snap. These were the small‑bite sharks . The ones who take tiny nibbles, again and again, never enough to ...