@ Laura M “This applies to all women, just in different ways. Women of Colour labour under the “welfare queen” stigma, where far from being expected to be perfect, they have to work three times as hard to be considered anything but a crappy mother – imagine everyone expecting you to fail! Perfect shining motherhood does deem to be a white moneyed thing.”

Forgive me here if I screw this up, I’m not an experienced poster (or writer) but this is a topic that I have experienced (and do experience on a daily basis) and therefore have been curious about and have considered for the last 5 years. A woman’s body, her children’s bodies and the perfect parenting ideal are all stark realities in my socioeconomic circle. One of the primary reasons that I am able to dis-engage from these mechanisms of oppression is because I see the phenomenon as existing almost exclusively in the light of privilege.

I don’t see that question being answered here (and it is one that A Sarah posed) – are these oppressive mechanisms peculiar to the moneyed classes? The neuroses that I see among my female peers regarding choice of school, diet and their own body size seems to me to stem directly from class privilege. However, I’ve read this entire comments section and that doesn’t seem to be the impression that I am getting here. I am seeing that lots of women here see this as a given in their society, i.e., it’s not surprising, unexpected or unfamiliar and that it is almost non-exclusive. This seems curious to me since I see it as an exclusive phenomenon. Am I the only one who sees this? (aside from Laura M)

Of course all women here have access to the internet, are literate, have time to read and write on message boards, etc, this speaks to some level of privilege (a fact, which I’m sure has been pointed out numerous times on this website). Laura M seemed to me to sum it all up when she said that there are many mothers for whom society expects to be “bad mothers” and that expectation originates in racial and socio-economic prejudice. I think what she says is true so doesn’t it follow that that the neuroses of being the perfect mother is a class driven notion and therefore the indulgence in that neuroses is merely an indulgence in one’s own privilege? (Yikes, I fear that is said with a heavy hand but I don’t know how else to say it with less weight. No pun intended.)

What A Sarah said about “Won’t someone please think of the poor moneyed white girls?” pretty much summed it up for me. Most of the social commentary (in the form of books or articles) on this phenomenon of social isolation, high parental expectations, harsh judgment from society, personal appearance pressure, post-maternity female disenfranchisement, etc. has been so exclusively class based that I haven’t even been able to finish reading it. I gave up trying to find a coherent and well-reasoned commentary on this a few years ago when I realised that I was being ridiculous for finding my life difficult (because of these choices) because I am fucking swimming in privilege.

Finding life difficult because of these issues *is* a relative phenomenon. I have lots of privilege and that gives me lots of choice. If I let those choices make me neurotic then that’s my own damn fault, not the fault of a society that perpetrates some notion of how making one choice over another is more efficacious as far as my own status. That’s CERTAINLY not to say that I am impervious to the social pressures because I am affected, deeply affected. I have to consciously rid myself of my insecurities around these issues and many a time I fail and join right in the perpetuation of these pressures. (BTW, it bears mentioning that these choices are false choices, they are effectively consumer choices, not choices which are meaningful in wider society or have true agency for women, that is, they do not effect real change in the lives of women, they only give the illusion of doing so.)

I want to be clear here, I am talking about choices like leaving a baby to cry it out, co-sleeping, private education vs. state education, boy’s school or co-ed, drama classes or chess club, gluten free or dairy free, etc. I’m not talking about being a parent who abuses a child or neglects a child, etc.

I see women at the school gate (I live in the UK and the school gate is the meeting place of mothers) with the tell tale signs of bulimia and disordered eating. At coffee mornings with other mothers when the cake is passed around it inevitably opens a discussion about who is dieting and who isn’t, there are discussions of other mothers who are loosing weight, etc. These discussions and related decisions dominate the lives of the women around me and in many cases serve to consume their lives to the exclusion of any more meaningful pursuits. It absolutely depletes my mind that these women who have so much privilege often squander that privilege in the pursuit of perfection in their own tiny worlds.

I don’t feel guilty for my privilege (ok maybe I do a little but it’s really self-indulgent to do so) but with my privilege comes a responsibility. What I see in the pursuit of these microcosms of attainment in the lives of affluent women (including myself) is the relinquishment of much of that responsibility. I have no doubt that this is not a conscious relinquishment; most of society is so disenfranchised from themselves that this type of social responsibility eludes them. These phenomena are nothing new, they are merely a new form of social snobbery that serve to galvanise the class systems that function as oppressive mechanisms in many societies.

I would really welcome challenges to what I have written to help me to clarify these ideas. This is central to my life and I haven’t really ever spoken to another woman about these things.

I will close with a favourite quote of mine which is at the heart of what I am attempting to convey here: “ ‘Choice’ is for women with social, cultural, and economic capital. The discourse of choice is not about women’s empowerment or advancement – it neglects those lacking both.”

I prefer it, but have stopped using it since moving to the UK. Damn useful word.

That being said, you’ve got a system that’s failing you. You’re not failing anything. Your system is the problem–that you “should” be able to remember is no more relevant than the idea that you “should” be able to walk to down the stairs would be, if you had a broken leg. So you need a new, successful system. I myself have relied on caffeine in the past, since I have a major diet Coke addiction and drink the stuff every morning when I get up. So the pills would live next to the diet Coke in the fridge, and the first drink would get the pills down. Also possible: non-fridge pills by the alarm clock or the computer or wherever’s your first stop in the morning. The fridge pills can be the next step, and even on non-successful days for step 2, perhaps step 1 will help.

And sometimes you need an actual human being helping while you’re at a bad point. This is fine. Remember that the guilt and lack of affect is part of the disease, not a personal failing–gods know, it doesn’t actually help the emotional burden, but it sometimes makes it easier to bear. My father had a pinched nerve in his back that meant his hand would hurt terribly. The pinched nerve was in his back, but he could barely keep himself from massaging and icing the arm, which had zero effect. In the case of depression, the GuiltShameSorrow cloud is a function of wack neurological interactions and would attach itself to your parenting if you were a parent, your education if you were a student, your music if you were a singer, and in all cases whatever it is that is foremost in your mind. The emotions are just big chemical productions, which the brain associates with your activities or what worries you, just because the brain is trained to make those connections. But the connections don’t really exist: the problem is the equivalent of a pinched nerve. Your arm is fine. (I know, strained metaphor, but it really worked for me.)

In this case, your will and humanity and worth are all still there–it takes enormous courage to reach out for help like you’re doing–but the GuiltShameSorrow cloud is attaching itself to your efforts and leaching your energy. It’s a function of your physical illness, not your character. This is an absolute truth.

I am so sorry you’re going through this. I hope this helps a little.

As a 300 pound woman by the end of my twin pregnancy who wanted as little intervention as possible, I was given less than an appropriate amount of respect by some hospital staff. My sudden pre-eclampsia was blamed on my weight, rather than the twin pregnancy, despite no history of even medium blood pressure. Because of the real dangers of eclampsia, I made choices I hadn’t planned on, but I was satisfied with my high intervention birth because I chose which interventions happened when. My awesome OBs decided that 38 hours from induction to vaginal birth was just dandy progress, we truly worked as a team.

That said, I appreciate that everyone doesn’t have my lucky temperament. And I struggle with school expectations of my 8 year olds. They have this behaviorist green-yellow-red status “discipline system” called Capturing Kids Hearts (no shit, love the conquest metaphor). And even the charter schools use it. They talk a good game about caring, and fresh starts every day, and accountability and communication. But the teacher still writes names on the board. The only reason for doing that is to humiliate the child. Period. That’s really the only effect it will have, no matter what the professed reason is. And I can’t imagine any adult not knowing that at some level.

But I’m not sane and organized enough to home school them, or rich enough to send them to Montessori (Over $20K per year). It’s illegal to let your children study with an already home schooling parent unless that parent holds a teaching license. I won’t send them to a religious school, all of which would employ similar methods anyway. So we’re kind of stuck.

I’m depressive. I have depression. If I do all the right things, and behave in all the right ways, I can simulate normality, and generally I try to.

But lately I’ve been finding myself asking why.

I’m not stupid. I know logically and intellectually taking my meds every day stabilises my mood, and leaves me better able to deal with the waking world. But emotionally I just can’t see why I want to do it. My “giving a fuck” system is so totally messed up I can’t give a fuck about myself, it seems. So the cycle goes something like this:

Wake up on Sunday, resolve to be a “good girl” this week and take my meds all week. Fill up the one-week pill container in the fridge (I take a couple of thyroxine supplements which need to be kept refrigerated, so all the meds live in the fridge) with a week’s worth of medication. Swallow the Sunday meds.
Wake up on Monday. Think “oh yeah, meds”. Swallow Monday medication.
Wake up on Tuesday. Might remember my resolution to take my meds. Take Tuesday meds if this is the case. If not, forget all about it.
Wednesday through Saturday – repeat as for Tuesday, noting the probability of my remembering my resolution declines with each successive day to the point where if I’ve been forgetting from Tuesday through Friday, it’s highly likely I won’t remember to take them at all until I reach Saturday.
Wake up Saturday. Look at the one-week pill container in the fridge, which should only have one day’s meds in it, but actually has somewhere between one and four, depending on which days I remembered to take them. Feel massively guilty, and resolve to take my meds every day next week. I may or may not actually take the meds on Saturday.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Sounds like the diet cycle, yeah?

Which is how I find myself where I am today: a weepy mess, feeling totally inadequate and useless as a human being, because I can’t even stick to the little routines which would keep me vaguely sane. At present I’m busy working up the emotional energy to write an email to my vocational rehab providers, and explain I’m feeling like crap this week and could they please excuse me from the human race for a bit. I’m also trying to work up the impetus to contact some of the various depression support services, and see whether they’re able to provide me with something like home help for a few weeks (months, years, the rest of my life… gods, I dunno) so I can have some practical assistance in getting through the day. Of course, I’m also wondering whether I shouldn’t just call the local psych hospital, and ask them whether they do pick-ups, and if so, could they come fetch me please (even though I’m probably not severely disturbed enough for institutionalisation)?

Seriously, about 18 months after my daughter was born, I just said, “Fuck it. Fuck it all.”

Just remember that it takes a lot of privilege to pull this off. If your kid has health or developmental issues that take you into contact with a lot of medical or educational professionals… or if your family situation requires a lot of contact with caseworkers… or if your economic situation means that you have to explain what you buy to a funding agency… or if you have neighbors who can see and hear everything you do… then a “fuck it all” attitude could get you reported to the authorities. If just one of those people thinks you’re doing it all wrong, you could be denied services, lose custody, or at least spend a lot of time justifying your choices to folks who have the power to make your life pretty miserable. Which is why this isn’t just a matter of attitude; societal pressures to conform come with real consequences, whether the pressures are about body shape and motherhood.