mama's getting messy
on getting to know myself, being grimy and bubblegum mountains
I’m on a train writing this and the sun is out and we’re passing through a region I don’t know the name of because I know nothing but it’s fucking beautiful, so stunning I want to turn to a stranger and say “isn’t England just lovely?” but I’m alone in the carriage. I think there are about 5 people on this train in total. I’m not used to having such space, room to spread out. I usually enjoy watching people’s scrolling, tik tok voyerism.
Where is everybody? Why am I so alone? I don’t like it.
There are no people eating packaged sandwiches for me to scowl at! I could record a podcast on this empty carriage, do some hair content! WE ARE BEHIND SCHEDULE! How can I fill up this space?
This prolonged time on my own is so strange for me. I feel like I’m getting to know myself again, or at least the person I am when not in a rush.
I’ve allowed myself to chew gum - bubblemint - as my orthodontist just sent me some tips for Sleep Apnea Jaw Alignment and apparently chewing gum helps reset your jaw in the morning. I don’t understand because I thought chewing gum was bad for my jaw but I’m allowing myself one train ride of anxious chewing, anything to stop me eating more protein bars to kill time till I get home to my family.
I am not a big drinker, I’ve never smoked.
But for most of my life I have been addicted to bubblegum. I could chew gum all day. I used to go to sleep with it in my mouth, wake up after nearly choking to death then stick the gum on the wall next to my pillow. I called it my gum mountain. I gave my main character a similar gum mountain in my novel Sunset.
Perhaps I liked chewing gum all the time because it felt like I was doing something active. Anything to prevent me from sitting still, to stop me from thinking. Anything to stop me from snacks (here are some of the depressing lies I told myself in my late teens - mid twenties: snacks are danger, snacks stop you from getting jobs, snacks make you lazy, snacks are evil, snacks stop you from being the elegant bird-like woman you need to be to be loved, no one likes a woman who snacks, snacks make you weak etc). It felt like I was doing something cleansing. I liked it when people came to me for gum too because I was needed. My grandma had gum by her bedside and would chew three pieces at a time. I did three at a time for a while too, but developed jaw ache. Recently I found a half pack of Wrigley in an old handbag of hers and I didn’t want to throw it away, felt some connection to her.
Did she get addicted too?
I’ve managed to wean myself off chewing gum 24/7, but only because I’m paranoid about my teeth and I read something about how chewing gum moves your teeth. I paid for invisalign once and I can’t do it again. I’ve said to people “but aren’t you worried about your teeth moving you daredevil?” when they chew gum and they think I’m being silly, that it’s nonsense - but I only need to read something unimportant but personally relevant to me just once and even if it’s not a reliable source - even if it doesn’t make clinical sense and there’s no hard evidence - I will take that information as gospel. Sorry.
I will love Hubba Bubba from afar and till I die.
I have met so many people in the last two weeks that I’m a little exhausted, my social battery is not built for this many deep chats. You get a bunch of actors together and it’s a poetic scramble to see who’s got more a) trauma, b) gossip or c) wellness tips.
I’m enjoying it, playing the role of “actress” after a year of playing “weird hair content woman who whines on instagram”.
I miss my kids so much I really don’t know if I can do this again.
I keep looking up actresses on IMDB and try to work out how much time they would have spent away from their kids for that job in Thailand or Atlanta and wondering how they coped and if they took their babies and how much they earned and did they get a nanny or did they homeschool and were they happy or miserable doing the job and I’m pathetic, it’s pathetic.
I avoid speaking to my kids on the phone when I’m away as I get upset that they’re upset or get upset that they’re not upset enough, DO THEY MISS ME AT ALL, and then I become needy. I do not like missing bedtimes. I don’t like missing school pick up. I miss knowing they’re every move. I miss the mess and the screeching and the spillages. I even miss the bloody dog!
SIDENOTE: Yes, I love the dog! How could I have denied dogs love all these years? They’re amazing creatures? HOW DID I MISS THIS DOGS ARE GREAT THING?
I’ve become a bit of a slob with this newfound time on my own in a hotel room.
I fall asleep with the laptop on my stomach, forget to shower, arrive to set with my hair scruffy because I know I’ll be looked after by a nice lady. I’ve had beer in bed, a giant bag of kettle crisps and chocolate brazil nuts for dinner. At home, I’m the one who sets the alarm, who gets everyone up in the morning. I brush their teeth and wash their little faces. I am fastidious and anal and a clean freak and like everything to have order and be in place. So it’s nice to have had a break from my own militant routine. It’s a holiday, being selfish, focusing on one project.
I’m falling asleep after watching episode after episode, completely alone, with crumbs on my body and stuff all over the bed and once I didn’t even wash my hands before going to sleep (which I usually do 2-4 times, for no reason whatsoever). I haven’t been able to do this kind of thing - wasting or relishing time- since my twenties and it feels like a little rebellion from my normal order of things.
I’m back this week with a review of my first year on onlyfans….
Jessie x
P.s.
I’ve fallen in love with a series with Brendan Gleeson called Mr Mercedes. It’s first series was harrowing in places, and the second series is a bit mad, but it’s addictive because Mr Gleeson is so good. He says “fuck me up the arse” like no other.
