Say no to boxes

No, I'm not moving! I'm talking about the little boxes that companies and organizations insist on squeezing you into, sealed with a tick. Whenever I'm forced to fill in my details, like with the long-winded process of renewing insurance, I always object to it. I've always been against 'labelling' people anyway--white, black, gay, straight, married, spinster (such a horrible word)--our complicated lives rarely fit completely into a single box. But, especially in recent years, it's become a particularly sore point. Let me explain.

I've gone through school, college, and many exams with the aim of becoming a zoo keeper, and when I left college I found a zoo job almost immediately. I've worked in several zoos, I met my husband in a zoo. I am a zookeeper. And I love it.

But when I had children, I naturally had to take a break. I wanted to be there for my kids when they were young, and we couldn't afford childcare. So I stayed at home and became, to all intents and purposes, a housewife. I always still thought of myself as a zookeeper--just taking a break. Of course, the little boxes don't take 'breaks' into account. I couldn't tick zookeeper, but I did find out that the PC term for housewife now is 'Home-maker' or 'House-person.' Worse, every time anyone asked me about work, they seemed to look down on me for being at home. Like it's not a proper job. I think people forget just how tough it is. Although being a zookeeper is very hard work, raising children is one of the hardest jobs in the world. Also one of the most rewarding. Watching them grow and blossom into little people. I certainly never resented looking after my children, but it isn't all that I am. I'm a zookeeper, with kids.

After a few years, I was able to go back to the zoo for one day a week when my mother was able to look after the children. My little slice of 'me' time. However, things took a turn for the worse last year when my health went downhill, and I had to stop my blessed one day a week at the zoo. Dizzy episodes and a general lack of energy had doctors looking into every kind of potential condition, from anaemia, to MS, to a brain tumour. Months of tests, needles, scans, and finally I had an answer.

CFS.

Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, also known as M.E.

I know it could be worse. I don't have an inoperable brain tumour, or MS, but this has changed my outlook and my life considerably. I can't work, I can't run around with the children, some days I can't even make it up the stairs. The severity varies from day to day, and it could potentially go on for years. I have to walk with a stick, and use a wheelchair on days out. I hate being stared at. The fact that it's an invisible condition, like depression, makes things worse, and, worse still, some people still don't even believe that it is a medical condition. They think it's all in the head. I'd like them to wear my shoes for a few weeks and see for themselves. It's crippling. The fact is I don't know when I'll be able to go back to work, or even if I'll be able to.

But I'm still a zookeeper. And, despite whatever little box I'm forced into, I always will be.