Another Dream Bites the Dust, and yet there is undeniable progress - frustrations of a chronically depressed woman with everyday skills.

Dreams. My earliest aspirations were to be a boy - have an easier life, eradicate the 'need' for my baby brother ....

Bleagh Rafi ... you stinky boy ... we were like this circa 1986, right???

eventually after attempting to pee standing up a number of times with variable success, I let that one go, my brother seemed to be a cutie and a nice playmate after all. I moved on to wanting to be an astronaut.

Sigh ... am not one of these, nor am I working behind-the-scenes on a space programme.

Sad, really ...

 Turned out, poor health and rubbish eyesight, a Bangladeshi education and overprotective parents don't necessarily add up to a candidate for any space programme. I found out for sure when I was at sixth form. I was crushed, yes, but I had a few more dreams up my sleeve. Working with children was one of them, my parents were dead set a against it, really against it, it was not up for discussion, it was a big no with things like 'I'll never talk to you again' etc etc. Looking back, I was at sixth form, why didn't I ask the careers adviser what was involved? Why didn't I? I suppose I'm not one of those amazing people that stand up for their dreams. That is a sobering thought, not being extraordinary is a blow of sorts. I have known I'm a normal person with ordinary dreams and skills for some time now. I feel no need to be spectacular. I am glad I don't have the burden of extraordinary genius. My own everyday sparkle and everyday genius is quite sufficient, along with the bravery and stamina I have, which is pretty much bog-standard bravery and stamina. Using it all every day gets me far. I have found Iain, convinced him to take a chance on a life with me, hung on to him for this long, (he appears to be staying for good, so I'm doing well here), managed to fulfil my biggest dream - motherhood - against tremendous odds, all using my normal everyday-ness. That's what makes people special: the ability to resist giving in to the harshness of life's abrasions, carrying on to the next level ground. Even if it turns out that the ground is really not that 'level', and rather rocky and lumpy instead. Having other people hanging about all the way, because they like being in your life, like having your presence. That's the special part of my life, I can't argue that I am anything less than successful in this regard. Doesn't banish the sadness, but it's definitely a very good side of my life.

So back to "What Happened To your Aspirations, Nadiya?" : I drifted in and out of university and periods of painful illness, periods of deep dark despair, times of helplessness, poverty, debt, sadness, and loss. I learned things, never went on to do the things I really wanted to do - work with children, work in journalism, join the navy .. .. Like I say, I pretty much didn't do things if my mother said no or my father made 'that face'. What a loser, I really should have made a go of some sort of career, hiding away in academia has done me no favours at all. At 34, being enormously succesful in my private life, I face the prospect of needing to find Something to Do. How else will we ever go on holiday? Get a better house? Pay for two cars (I cannot let Iain have a motorbike, I really don't think I can).

Ok, this is not really why we need two cars ... but our need is similarly urgent!

Ahhhh ... and finally everyone is on board with Original Dream Number One - the longest sustained aspiration, no longer a close-held secret, working with children, specifically, being a childminder. Let's skip over the volley of emotions that plague me as my mum, dad, husband, relatives - everyone I know now cheer me on and say what a good idea you'll be perfect as a childminder .. .. Well, I would make a jolly good childminder. Everything has checked out - despite the fact I have taken about 2 and a half years to go through the registration process, the only thing left is for the medical professionals to proclaim me ready. It galls me, I have overcome a lot that has been dumped on me, extricated myself from tangles I did not create, and yet it's still No from Ofsted, at least for now. Meanwhile I get older and older and am still aiming to do a young woman's job ...

The reasons why so much has hurt me so badly, so deeply makes more sense now that I know about Borderline Personality Disorder. No one else in my life (apart from the psych team of course) have any interest in BPD, so it has not helped everyday interactions and tense situations, but I know all about it, and can play Hercules and try and battle my demons efficiently after loved ones say and do what they inevitably say and do.

Errr ... Hercules .... kinda like me, but I have breasts and tend to dress more appropriately when battling demons.

So what DOES help me, now I know so much and have done so much about it all?

My mates think I'll be driving and childminding asap - like, the driving test in september, and the next psychiatric review ... probably in a few months ... if asked, every one of my friends would say I'm improving so much and doing so well, there's no reason to think I won't get through, and if I don't this time I will next time.

I tend to subscribe to the idea that my friends are right, they know a thing or two, I'll find something to do. Who knows, I might even learn from my past and go for what I really, really want, and show Jaan what that even means ..... (boggled if I know ... maybe someone wrote a book on it ....)