So Britney Spears has been hospitalised. Yet again. One would think that from the mess she has made of herself, people would be a little ashamed of themselves and back off, and give her the space and time and care she needs to get herself sorted out with some good medical help and some love and care. But no. What we get are frenetic videos of Britney being carted off into the ambulance with a collage of her with her no panty flash, her drunk driving court appearances, her shaving head escapade.....one would think by now people would have had enough. But apparently not. Apparently there are vultures out there in the form of paparazzo who earn megabucks for every picture they click of her spirally down into a private hell that it seems she will never get out of, and she has, in her poor misguided, troubled mind, gone and fallen for one of them.
My heart breaks. Not because I am a fan, am not and never have been. Because I am a mother, and I wonder what sort of a legacy her poor children are going to bear with a mother who is so unstable, she is deemed a threat to herself. And I wonder at the pressures of a life of fame so early that has caused her to implode so viciously that she seems, as of this point, absolutely beyond salvation. And I wonder whether it is worth it all, the fame, the glitz, the money, the adulation, the designer clothes and the high flying life, to be not able to have control over one's own self and actions. And what would have pushed her off the brink.
The time I really got antsy reading about Britney and her kids, was when her first kid was taken to hospital for a nasty fall to the head. From a supposed high chair. The child was in seizures. The nanny was supposedly at fault. Then came the picture of her almost falling over with a baby in her arms. Wearing disgustingly high heels. Then the report of her changing a baby's diaper on the floor of a store. She was unravelling from way back. It is stressful, caring for a child. And caring for two when you are still mentally a pampered child would be tougher. I know I couldnt deal with handling the brat when he was just born. I was so terrified I do something wrong and hurt him that I had backed into an emotional corner from which I just didnt want to emerge. I didnt step out of my home for months. Except for doctors visits. And I had help. I wasnt alone. I had maids. I had a mother in law and a mother to help. I had convinced myself I was the world's worst mother and I didnt deserve this baby. To put it bluntly, I had the baby blues, and they were taking their time to go away, and had I not, through the grace of god pulled out of it, I might have been wheeled away too. That would have been the scary part. What would have happened to my son had I not been around. He would have been bathed and fed and schooled I know, but would anyone have sat up with him through the night sponging him down when his body was racked with fever? Would anyone take the trouble of taking him to therapy every other day and sit with him through three hours of sessions? Would anyone make him a jam sandwich in the middle of the night just because he felt like it? Would anyone agonise if his weight went down after it had increased by a kilo? Would anyone care?
With Britney, the world was her oyster. Was it the kids who tipped her over, or is there a history of mental illness that we dont know about? But we can have some grace as people to sympathise with her, rather than think she had it coming to her. And pray. Pray that two innocent kids get a mother who is capable mentally of bringing them up to be good human beings.