Bitter sweet caffeinated hindsight

What's that thing they say about hindsight? Oh that's right - it's a be-atch.

In my experience, hindsight can sting a little. Like the time I decided to cut my hair like Gywneth Paltrow in Sliding Doors. Oh. My. Word.  I have tried to burn all the photos. When Man looks the few photos that escaped the inferno, his face is the most hilariously perfect picture of pity, amusement, disgust and awkwardness. He really has no words. And he's not wrong. There are no words.  In hindsight - my face, my type of hair, my ample bosom - well, let's just say they don't really lend themselves to short hair.  And that's putting it mildly.

Here's my latest little hindsight revelation .....There's a good chance that something I am adamant about now, something I am firmly on my soapbox about, something I've bagged my seat on the bandwagon for -well, I might change my mind some, I might realise that I made things unnecessarily hard for myself and other people.

You see, about 5 years ago, Man and I decided to do a detox (that's a whole other post) and as part of the detox we gave up coffee. I was only ever a one cup a day type person and did it more for the social aspect so didn't think it would be such a big deal. I was wrong.

I was not prepared for the withdrawals. Good Lord. It was terrible. Tired, headaches, nausea, all round good times. And later, I was not prepared for how awesome I felt without caffeine. I was sleeping better, my usually busy busy mind was much more peaceful and focused, my energy levels were better and I was converted. Caffeine was the DEVIL and all you coffee drinkers were addicts who just didn't know a better way to exist. I had found a higher plane people, enlightenment, a better way. LOL. Self-righteous much?

I carried on my merry decaf way in the face of much teasing, opposition, eye-rolling and at the more hipster coffee joints, open scorn and disgust, when trying to whisper my decaf request to the bearded chap with suitably hip glasses of questionable prescription-ness (YES that's a word ok!).

I felt so great and so much more relaxed caffeine free that I never even considered going back...even after the birth of my little mini man, and a little later after my mini me. WHAT WAS I THINKING? Is there a more sleep deprived state than that of a new mother? Seriously, someone slap me. Or feel free next time you see me shake your head and look 'disappointed', I deserve it.

In bittersweet hindsight, I realise things could have been so much easier for me, those around me, and potentially my waistline with a little help from evil caffeine. I mean, how many options do you really have when you are sleep deprived for an extended period of time - and I don't mean a big weekend type sleep deprived - I mean like weeks and months on end (and when sleeping for a week straight is not an option). It's either collapse in a heap (which I have been known to do) or eat......preferably sugary goodness.....Um hello enormous energy slumps and enormous pants.

I mean really. I was clawing my way through intense exhaustion, big life transitions, and second time round when mini-me came along, a little dance with post-natal depression too. And still, firmly I refused to sip on the devils nectar. REALLY? I'm not suggesting for a minute caffeine, or lack thereof, has any bearing on PND at all (having done the dance I realise it's not a simple issue)...I just mean....I could have been a little kinder to my already struggling self, given myself just a little more energy and probably have been easier to be around.... If I just stopped to rethink some of my entrenched ideas.

Early on in the piece with Mini-me, I was catching up with two of my closest old friends, discussing my struggles and ever practical,  one friend suggested vitamins (which helped enormously) and then other gently suggested, "you know, just a bit of coffee might help things along."  Sometimes the people who love you can see your blind spots and listening to them changes things, for the better. Those suggestions really helped my day to day ability to cope and helped me get back on track to being myself again.

Someone I love very much once said to me that philosophically speaking, its better, for your own mental health, to not put a full stop after everything. We are all on a journey, and if we are really living, we will adapt and change and grow, and will ultimately refine some of our ideas and ideals....better to keep a comma, instead of always full stops. You can box yourself, and others in, if nothing is negotiable, if you refuse to be flexible, or even consider the other side.

So coffee and I have made friends again. We don't hang out everyday,  I prefer to be intentional about our hang outs, coffee and I have a  'quality time' relationship...special occasion friends. We're not those friends who talk every day. But I really do love it. It's like a little high, a cheap thrill, and also essential on some days to manage my schedule, that can feel relentless at times.

All this talk of commas and no full stops makes me feel like I must confess I don't subscribe to floating around non-commital, keeping 'commas' after everything,  never having any anchors in my life. Not at all. There are some firm full stops in my life, some things I know that I know, some things in my heart that are immovable because time and experience and love, have proved them to be true.

I'm just learning, that when something isn't working, it's good to pause, and consider my ways, consider my thoughts and some of my assumptions. Questions are good. And so is Coffee.