So- Its been a very long time since I actually wrote directly to- myself. I have to write. I write only when my heart and soul have been pushed and pulled so hard that one more tug and I would crumble into a sobbing, snot soaked pile on the floor, barely resembling the strong woman that I know I am. (Besides, when you are already covered in breastmilk and spit up, adding snot to the picture is just gross.)
My son was born! It was an amazing day- filled with laughter, hope, and unbelievable pain. Pain in my body, but also in my heart. The man who promised me he would be by my side (forever, but we will just concentrate on the delivery) shows up with his mother, a woman whom I love, but alas a woman who never ever gave me a chance and determined she hated me before she ever met me in person (thank you, facebook). A woman who's last spoken words to a then pregnant me were "You might as well sign over custody of your child now because I am going to take it from you anyway." While I am not sure what world she was living in where she thought this might be possible, it was still, probably the most cruel thing you can say to someone who's one true purpose in life was to be a mother. To someone driving back after being so heartbroken and disappointed that she took her child and left the state because it was either that or continue to be the above mentioned sobbing pile of snot, minus the breast milk, and to say that while I was on my way back home, or on my way back to house that used to be home, after finding just enough healing in my heart to attempt to face the broken dream that was at this time my life. I digress...
He brought HER into my labor room, and she walks directly passed me, does not even say hello to me, or ask how I, the woman carrying her unborn grandson, was doing. She barely acknowledges anyone in the room there to support me, and proceeds to glare at me and shake her head, as if SHE has a right to be there and I- the one in labor whom GOD gave the duty to bring this child into the world, had no right to be there. The entire mood of the room changed, so much so that the midwives and nurses commented how they could not believe that kind of behavior had just occurred. Anyhow, it was not HER anger and hatred that bothered me, over the last two years or more I had learned to look passed it and love her anyway, to try and be as kind and loving as possible as this woman was the mother of the love of my life, and I was not going to come between them. It was him. He, who knew she hated me, who knew she was not there to support me, who knew that in my last labor took THREE days and I was so stressed out that my daughter's heart had nearly stopped and she had to be vaccuumed out of my body so she did not die. He KNEW all of these things, yet he brought her, with her self-righteous belief that she had a right to be there during MY labor. The fact that after all we had been through, after being completely ignored by him throughout my pregnancy despite giving him every opportunity to be a part of his son's life even before birth, telling him the date and time of every OB appointment, and having him not show up time and time again, even to the appointment revealing that our son was indeed our son and not a daughter (I told him it was a boy from day 1), that he would bring someone filled with venom toward me to my labor, and to think that it would be ok, that I would just shut up and allow this woman to bore holes into my body with her eyes for 16 hours until my son was born. I am sorry, but I am not a doormat, and I would not be walked on as she was determined to walk on me. This was to be a day filled with joy, and love, and support from the people who cared about me. The joy and love was to extend to him as well, but he refused to believe it, because I guess he could not believe after all he put me through, that my friends and I could still love and support him. So I had the nurse ask her to leave. You might think this is cowardice, but this was MY labor day. I was in charge of keeping calm so OUR son's heart did not almost stop because my body succumbed to stress, and I was not going to allow her to take that from me in any way. And it PISSED them off, so much so that I had to BEG him to come back into the delivery room, and he did not do so until I was in full on SCREAMING labor. Another thing that baffled me as to why he might have brought her- she is a strong woman who would never let her grief show or stop her from supporting her son- a quality in her, among many qualities, that I admire... but she herself had a still born, and do not quote me but I believe the last time she was in a labor room was her own, and I cannot imagine what unbelievable soul crushing painful memories that must have brought back for her, when I had spoken to her when she was by my side at one of the early ER appointments and I had said I know this baby stuff is difficult for you, and she had nodded in agreement. I cannot believe her own son would be so thoughtless as to choose her for his support... perhaps they discussed it, and perhaps she had needed to be there in some way to help her heal... and as I said before, despite her hatred for me, I loved and still love this woman, I looked up to her, and I would have let her stay if she would have simply smiled at me and said hello Megan, how are you and my grandson. I would have loved to include her in my day of joy, which the rest of the day proceeded as minus the text messages begging him to not miss his son's birth and to come back into the labor room (which he did with Chad- THANK YOU CHAD FOR BEING THERE FOR HIM, and for me.) If she would have just made an effort to be part of the rose and not the thorn, she would have been a welcome part of that day. I won't even get into the next day where she walked into my labor room less than 12 hours after I gave birth and told me that I had no choice of her being there. I did however, and the only reason I did not make her leave MY hospital room was because I would not make a scene in front of the two precious babies that I loved like my own and hadn't seen in 9 months because I was not allowed to. I would not make her leave and possibly ruin any chance for my daughter to again establish a relationship with the children and their father that she loves so much since she was three years old, and to this day still refers to as her brother and sister, and to him as her "daddy" even though she understands that "daddy" isn't coming home. These were reasons I did not assert myself and show her that I did have a choice, but the most important reason is that our son deserves to know the love of his grandmother. This strong woman, while for some reason choosing me to be on the wrong side of her revolver, is a wonderful grandmother, and loves her family to the point that if you are on the wrong side of her revolver, you better watch out. My son has a right to the love of all of his family, regardless of their feelings for me, and my need to be right far pales to my son's right to be loved. So I shut my mouth, allowed her disrespect, and let her pick up our son, because a mother never puts herself before her child. And I am a mother.
I recently discovered a pod cast in which my ex was interviewed about our relationship, and in which he revealed some moments that were very private, that he has insisted this entire time that we should keep this between ourselves and to not involve the outside. I guess I did not realize how much he must have been getting dirty looks or something, and how much he indeed cares about what people think about him despite how he professes he does not, because that is the only reason I can imagine that he would need to throw the mother of his child under the bus to make me look like an awful person and to make him look justified for leaving me. (I do care to a good extent what people think, but I write for catharsis, not for public opinion.)I am not angry that he left me, because if he wasn't happy then he should not have been with me. I am angry because he had to have known that there was a chance he would walk away from me, because in less than four weeks after making love to me with the intention of creating a life, a life that deserves the love of both parents, all siblings, and is not broken, he was gone. Less than four weeks... and yes we stopped trying for a child after that time, because with my health taking the unknown road, we decided that I should get better first. You do not promise someone their dreams, and create an innocent life knowing that you might not want to be with the person who would carry this life. You just don't do that to someone... unless you are trying to make yourself feel better. He has given me a million reasons why he left... one being an ugly text message I sent him, which is in fact the reason he is now publicly choosing to display... but a hormonal fueled text message is not something you throw away an entire relationship over, so he must have known that things were not solid. While I knew we were having our issues, I whole heartedly believed in every single word he breathed, in every kiss, in every action up until the day he left, that told me he would not walk away, that he was in this for the long haul. I believed that our issues were that of any family undergoing major stress, major changes. I had just graduated, and began a new job, and while some people may think that I was on top of the world, those changes were positive, but majorly stressful. I was now not a student, I was one of the working class, learning how to balance a budget, to take care of a family, to save enough money to give not only one child but now three children a Christmas they would remember in their new home with their new family. We were learning how to combine two seperate families into one... and that is a tough thing to do... to be under one roof that is not a temporary fix as it was before while he was looking for another place. We were both learning what it was like to be parents to these three kids, and they were learning what it was like to have to share the love with another sibling, and how to gain the love and discipline of another parent. I guess he never thought it would be that difficult... but I thought it was all part of the settling in, and didn't expect things to go smoothly at first. I guess I never really let on how petrified I really was about all my health issues either... but to have half of my body go numb periodically was frightening, especially in light of me being the only parent my daughter can rely on. The thought of something happening to me that would render me unable to take care of my baby, and to possibly not have more babies, was the scariest thing I have ever faced in my life. I remember crying to him about it one night and he admitted how frightened he was too. The only thing that got me through it, the MRI's, the lumbar puncture, the bed rest and the massive pain after the LP leaked, was knowing that he was there, and that he told me that he would always be there, and knowing that if anything ever happened to my daughter, he would take care of her, because he was now her daddy. I had faith in this man, my hero, who I was so proud of, who worked his ass off for us, at work and at home, I knew he would be there. But I really didn't know, because he never told me that he was falling out of love with me... I know he didn't quite look at me the way he used to... which is why for my birthday and christmas I asked him to give me... him... just a night out with him so we could forget that we were employees, and parents, and people with all this responsibility, and remember that we were just two people who were in love... the love that I still felt and thought he felt too... cause I mean, you don't tell someone that you want to create a life with someone if you don't love them with a forever kind of love, do you? I didn't think so. I trusted his words, and his love, for the first time in my life I truly trusted, and it was a mistake. Sometimes I feel foolish for that mistake, but then I say, no. I will not feel foolish, because I would rather be the person who gave everything to someone, including their body to create a life, and who's heart was broken by that person, than to be someone who never believed that that kind of love could exist. I still believe that love is out there, its just hard, even to this day, to believe it wasn't him.
I guess it is harder, holding our son, to let it all go. To look back at all the cruel things he has done to me, the silence being the worst... to all the broken promises to me, and at the broken promises to our son after I told him not to promise me anything else, and that if he wanted to make promises, to promise our unborn son... (after all, she, the new girlfriend, will never be more than a broken promise to our son, and he knows what that means), even with all of this, to not want to make our family whole again. I know that I deserve someone who has not broken me, and who would not walk away, but when a person is the least deserving of your love, isn't that the time when you should love them the most? I think so, but he does not need my love, and I can accept that. I do accept that... but it doesn't mean that the mother in me, and the dreamer in me, does not picture an alternate reality where he comes home, and I hear the kids laughing, or playing, or fighting in the background, and he is there to share the smiles of our baby boy, and he can hear the cooing, and the crying, and the sound of our son saying thank you in his baby language... thank you mom and dad for loving me, and for being there for me... because the hardest part of this all is to have imagined all these precious baby moments happening and having someone who loves this child as much as I do- is wanting to share them with someone... with the person who looked at me and said "I love you- I want to give you a baby and I want you to know what it is like to be supported during your pregnancy and to bring a baby into an intact home- I love you and you deserve to know what that feels like". The hardest part is not being able to share that with him.
So no, he should have walked away when I told him that not having a baby would be a dealbreaker... he should have walked away when I told him that I was wrong and loved him with or without a child and marriage and all my dreams, because having someone to love, and having our three (four with his oldest) children, was more of my dream than I imagined I could have, and his love was enough for me to still have the forever love without the ring and the baby carriage... he should have walked away then... instead of coming to me a week later and telling me the words that changed our lives forever... I want to create a life with you. Because I sit here, day after day, month after month, feeling every kick of our unborn son, and hearing his words, and now looking at our son, whom I would never ever take back having because he is meant to be here, and meant to be our son, and his smiles and cries, and coos and sweet baby smell make my life worth living, but I wonder what it would have been like if he had just stayed, and known what it was like to be with a woman whom had just had her dreams come true because of him...
Our son has been on the outside world for 48 days... and has only seen his father on three of them. A man who said he would stand by me through the pregnancy and to raise a child even after he left me... has not been there for anything but his first breath... and it was a fight to get him to be there for that... and no matter what I do... no matter how many pictures I send, no matter if I say I will leave him the baby for a couple hours ALONE so he can bond with our son and I won't even be there, I will just stay within a few minutes drive in case our son needs to eat or needs me... he has not had anything to do with our son. I just do not understand how he can turn off every feeling inside him and bury it God knows where (or in God knows who)... and not know his son, and not allow his son to know him... I just cannot comprehend how that can happen... it hurts me because it has to hurt him, and it does not hurt my son now, but someday it will hurt my son, and I do not want my son to be angry at his father ever.
I will survive, I am surviving,I am beginning to thrive... but some days like today I just breathe...
I want our son to know that no matter what mama said or texted or did wrong, and no matter what his father has done, or how his mother and his father hurt one another, I love Henry's father, even if I don't like him right now. ... and even if he has been cruel to me, and is not here to help or to know his son today, I still believe in him... I still believe that he will probably never come around enough to have the family I wanted, and he may never even allow himself to heal enough to be my friend... I don't even know if I am ready for that, although I will always try, but I still believe he will come around enough for our son to know his love, because no matter how imperfect, that love is huge, and my son deserves to know the love of his daddy. I want my son to know that his mother and father once had a love that neither of them imagined they could have and for awhile it was beautiful... Henry, my love, my son, my light, you were made out of love, and you are meant to be here. I love you my son. Love, your mama.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
I found this written on a sheet of paper in a box I never unpacked when we got to the Glenwood house. Its funny to try to hold onto something so tightly and then read something that makes you remember how I had considered letting go so many times before.
I found this written on a piece of paper in a box I packed from Rifle and never unpacked in Glenwood. Its funny how I convinced myself I never wanted to let you go... when I had considered it so many times before I made the decision to stay and move in with you... but it was written about you, so I am sharing it.
May 21, 2011
Even if the earth just swallowed me whole,
I ‘d still have my soul,
So full of pain and the times that I tried,
And gave all I had just to tide someone over
So I wouldn’t ache
so alone and the break in my heart
Might have a chance to heal from the start
But it seems Im just so far away from the finish line
every time I commence to mend the breaks
The emptiness overtakes as I make more mistakes
And I lose all the ground I have gained
And the love that I’ve found
Gets so lost in the sound of my tears while I drown
dreaming away this nowhere town…
But its not as bad as the taste of the lies
or the silence that buys us
one more minute to waste
as I put off goodbye
Tell me just a few more,
lie that you’ll stay and everything is ok,
That I am not all alone
That I will always be home
in your arms…
I am so charmed by your smile,
It captured my attention,
Not to mention my lips and my hips,
In a pool at the tips of your fingers
While the memory of your touch just lingers like an echo
On my skin not enough to relieve but enough to give everything that I’ve got,
Is it enough, probably not
But I’ll still try
Give my soul til the earth swallows me whole
or stop telling you lies that I want to stay,
putting off my goodbye.
I found this written on a piece of paper in a box I packed from Rifle and never unpacked in Glenwood. Its funny how I convinced myself I never wanted to let you go... when I had considered it so many times before I made the decision to stay and move in with you... but it was written about you, so I am sharing it.
May 21, 2011
Even if the earth just swallowed me whole,
I ‘d still have my soul,
So full of pain and the times that I tried,
And gave all I had just to tide someone over
So I wouldn’t ache
so alone and the break in my heart
Might have a chance to heal from the start
But it seems Im just so far away from the finish line
every time I commence to mend the breaks
The emptiness overtakes as I make more mistakes
And I lose all the ground I have gained
And the love that I’ve found
Gets so lost in the sound of my tears while I drown
dreaming away this nowhere town…
But its not as bad as the taste of the lies
or the silence that buys us
one more minute to waste
as I put off goodbye
Tell me just a few more,
lie that you’ll stay and everything is ok,
That I am not all alone
That I will always be home
in your arms…
I am so charmed by your smile,
It captured my attention,
Not to mention my lips and my hips,
In a pool at the tips of your fingers
While the memory of your touch just lingers like an echo
On my skin not enough to relieve but enough to give everything that I’ve got,
Is it enough, probably not
But I’ll still try
Give my soul til the earth swallows me whole
or stop telling you lies that I want to stay,
putting off my goodbye.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Your love wreaked sweet havoc in my soul,
Your hastened lust what made me wet
I the poisoned apple of your eye
Your face I anguish to forget,
I'm the careless thorn that pierced your crown,
I drown my sorrows with 100 proof,
You're a hangover that won't let go,
,
I'm a headache you cant seem to lose
I once did tremble at the trace of your fingertips,
you once bent to my every whim
you made my heart as cold as ice,
You’re world I no longer spin,
You used to slide in just like silk,
My breasts once made your head turn,
now you're touch just makes me sick
And I am last night’s razor burn
your lips used to be my inspiration
my taste used to be your truth
now lying to myself is my salvation
My name a bad taste in your mouth
I laid my body on the line
I staked it to the ground
You set fire to my soul
so I set fire to your town
Once a lighthouse in your storm,
you made me explode without a sound
now I sit on the edge of town
I watch it burn you to the ground
Megan Forrest,
Your hastened lust what made me wet
I the poisoned apple of your eye
Your face I anguish to forget,
I'm the careless thorn that pierced your crown,
I drown my sorrows with 100 proof,
You're a hangover that won't let go,
,
I'm a headache you cant seem to lose
I once did tremble at the trace of your fingertips,
you once bent to my every whim
you made my heart as cold as ice,
You’re world I no longer spin,
You used to slide in just like silk,
My breasts once made your head turn,
now you're touch just makes me sick
And I am last night’s razor burn
your lips used to be my inspiration
my taste used to be your truth
now lying to myself is my salvation
My name a bad taste in your mouth
I laid my body on the line
I staked it to the ground
You set fire to my soul
so I set fire to your town
Once a lighthouse in your storm,
you made me explode without a sound
now I sit on the edge of town
I watch it burn you to the ground
Megan Forrest,
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Sunday, April 22, 2012
If I would have known
So I wrote this... its actually going to be a song I have a friend working on the music. Keep your ears out people. Hope lives.
Two years ago about mid november,
I was sitting on a picnic table outside of the bar
I wasn’t lookin for someone,
but the loneliness got me wonderin where you are
I reached out for a hand in the dark,
sent a message straight to your cell phone
you responded quite quickly,
said you couldn’t come you had the kids at home
if I would have known then,
that I’d be sitting here just tryin to catch my breath
maybe I wouldn’t have called you,
Perhaps I wouldn’t respond to your next steps,
About six months later,
I said the words you had waited to hear,
I told you I loved you,
Even though you knew loving was my greatest fear,
You held me so close,
You whispered that everything would be okay,
You made me believe you,
You said you’d love me forever if I’d just stay,
If I would have known then,
Just about how far that I would fall,
Maybe I wouldn’t have called you,
Perhaps I would have thrown away it all,
So about two years later,
I am sitting on the couch inside what used to be home,
I still aint lookin for someone
But the loneliness echos the sweet words that you spoke,
I shouldn’t wonder what happened,
You were supposed to just be wasting my time,
Til I found that someone,
I never wanted to let you say she’s mine,
If I would have known then,
How you would have taken my heart and ran,
Maybe I wouldn’t have called you,
Maybe I would still know how to stand,
But instead I listened,
I drank your words in as if they were wine
I got drunk on your promises,
Now I am only a simple waste of your time,
If I would have known then, Just how far I would fall,
I wouldn’t take back a day,
No I wouldn’t change a thing at all.
Two years ago about mid november,
I was sitting on a picnic table outside of the bar
I wasn’t lookin for someone,
but the loneliness got me wonderin where you are
I reached out for a hand in the dark,
sent a message straight to your cell phone
you responded quite quickly,
said you couldn’t come you had the kids at home
if I would have known then,
that I’d be sitting here just tryin to catch my breath
maybe I wouldn’t have called you,
Perhaps I wouldn’t respond to your next steps,
About six months later,
I said the words you had waited to hear,
I told you I loved you,
Even though you knew loving was my greatest fear,
You held me so close,
You whispered that everything would be okay,
You made me believe you,
You said you’d love me forever if I’d just stay,
If I would have known then,
Just about how far that I would fall,
Maybe I wouldn’t have called you,
Perhaps I would have thrown away it all,
So about two years later,
I am sitting on the couch inside what used to be home,
I still aint lookin for someone
But the loneliness echos the sweet words that you spoke,
I shouldn’t wonder what happened,
You were supposed to just be wasting my time,
Til I found that someone,
I never wanted to let you say she’s mine,
If I would have known then,
How you would have taken my heart and ran,
Maybe I wouldn’t have called you,
Maybe I would still know how to stand,
But instead I listened,
I drank your words in as if they were wine
I got drunk on your promises,
Now I am only a simple waste of your time,
If I would have known then, Just how far I would fall,
I wouldn’t take back a day,
No I wouldn’t change a thing at all.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
The Last Road Home
Four-thousand plus miles, a tear for every one, a laugh for every 10, and a smile to complete the journey. Today anyhow, as I sit here in my room, three hours from the town I fled, my love sleeping beside me and my other love tumbling inside me. I do not think this will be an earth shattering entry, or a soul revealing monologue of the days since I have last written to you. Just a page to keep writing, to remind myself to let it out, to keep being honest, and to never forget the last two months journey into and out of my own personal hell. I am ready to go home.
I finally have let it go, the anger, the betrayal, the enormous weight I carried with me through so many miles of my adventure. Little by little I began to heal, to break, and to heal again. I write now with a sense of peace, of nervousness, of excitment, and of faith in where the lessons I have learned will take me, and for what trials and joys lie ahead. I stood in the Gulf of Mexico, and laid it all down at God's feet. I asked for forgiveness, I asked for guidance, I asked for the ability to forgive, I asked for the ability to guide, and to allow myself to let this all go, to listen to God, and to always remember my faith lies in Him.
I realized how I had placed my burdens upon the shoulders of a human who could not bear the weight, and had placed my faith in a human who could not lead the way. No man is built to be able to pull the rope of my despair, withstand the strength of my love, and understand the demons which I fight every day. The only being who was built to know my soul and my heart to the deepest extent is the Lord Almighty. The only shoulders who can bear my grief, tolerate my pain, and have patience enough to withstand it all until the days my happiness is king, is our King. My light never goes out in my darkenss, as I have been told numerous times by so many that I am amazing, and strong, and I inspire them with my strength. If I can light the way, even if only for a step, for other people with my misdirection and mistakes, then each moment of anguish was worth the struggle. I would go through this pain a thousand times over to reach the peace I have found in my heart.
Do not mistake me, however, because I still hurt. I am not simply letting go of a man, but I am letting go of a dream. It is easy to let go when you have never come as close as I, but when for even a second, I had it in my hand, it is so hard to let it go. The moment I knew I was pregnant, I saw my future pass before my eyes. I saw the kisses on my belly, I saw the tears of joy in his eyes as he first held our child, I saw the look of pure love he gave me for giving him such a gift, I saw the smile on his face at the end of the aisle, I saw our first dance as husband and wife, I tasted the salt from his tears as we watched our first child be married, I felt the feel of his old wrinkled hands holding mine long after our children had left home, and felt the last breath I took in this world as he held me, his face unrecognizable with age except for those blue eyes. I saw it all, and it was beautiful. For that one moment, even though I knew our current situation was not perfect, I still trusted the imperfection that made me fall in love with him in the first place.
Now even his blue eyes are unrecognizable, and as hard as I try to imagine how it felt when he looked at me with love, I can hardly see that face. I can only see the one that would barely make eye contact, the one who's eyes had all but closed the door to his soul, the eyes that lied to me saying I don't love you anymore, and even if I do not believe it myself, I choose to walk away and choose to believe that it is not worth it, that we are not worth it, and that you are not worth it. The hardest part was wondering why, why a man I loved so much could give up on me, could set my world on fire and leave me to burn, could add gasoline to the already out of control flames knowing that whether he poured it directly onto me or passed it to another, that I would suffer, and hurt, and that no matter how many tears I cried I could not put it out. I finally realized that it doesn't matter why, all that matters is he did not care enough to let himself care, and that my pain was not as important as him running from his pain. Realizing this, that his actions have so little to do with me, and so much to do with him, I am able to truly begin to heal. If his actions were a result of me, and his pain were all my doing, then he would have trusted me enough to let me know how he felt before it was at the point of no return. Instead he made one of the biggest decisions of our lives for me, and I never ever had a say.
I thought I would always be burning, but again I was wrong. I admit I was wrong, and I was able to put out that fire because I was able to forgive myself and forgive him. Honestly, without regret, and with the intention set forth for love in my life, for myself and for other human beings. Without forgiveness, I would be the one who suffers, the one who poisoned my own soul, and the one left in agony. I gave it all to God, and I am not taking it back. So please, if you know me, and know my story, pray for all involved, pray for him, pray for our children, pray for the ones who have helped lift me up and find my way. I have let go, and I now move on. Thank you.
Friday, March 2, 2012
Honesty
Put your faith in God not man. Accept people are faulted. Believe when they hurt you it is because of who they are not who you are. Treat others the way you want to be treated. Ask for help. When you fall or fall short apologize with sincerity and get up and try again. Give second chances. Forgive others and forgive yourself. Appreciate beauty and try to remember without pain you could never truly appreciate joy. Never stop loving. That's honesty.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Today I Rise
Day 268 of my journey OUT of hell.
Ok, ok, you got me. Its still only been a month. Today I focus on the life inside me. Today I smile. Today I laugh at the childish behavior of the people who wish to see me fail every day. Today I defy them. Today I got called a cunt. Today I own that name, because I have never, at least to my face, been called that. Today I am proud of that name, because today I stood up for myself and, in the spirit of kindness, let someone know the shit being talked about them due to their black hole that is their lack of maturity, and although I did not say it in the kindest way, it was honest. Today I am a cunt, if that is what you call a person who sticks up for themselves when people who once posed as friends make it their daily mission to tear down my sense of worth, only failing miserably to realize that the only people they are succeeding in hurting is themselves, then yes, I am a CUNT.
Don't get me wrong, there is a sting, as when you love someone, as I love someone, which is with all my heart and soul, its hard to accept that that person never was the person you believed them to be. It is hard to put your faith into someone, and to find that all along they were waiting for you to fail. That every smile was false, and they were not brave enough to be honest with you. The faith I am speaking of is not the faith you put into a lover's relationship, because when an ex lover makes up their mind that they are hurt, you expect them to lash out as sad as it is. A friend however, to whom you have never had anything but faith in, and the last time that person looked at you was with a smile and outstretched arms to hug you, and then you turn around and feel the cold steel of the knife trying to cut into you. I am sorry, did my back break your knife, because while it stings where you broke the skin, you will not, and cannot cut me any deeper, because all I feel for you is pity. Pity that you call yourself a friend yet do not know what it is like to be one, pity that obviously you don't know a what a true friend is to you, one who will watch you screw up, pick you up, tell you where you screwed up, and love you anyway.
You only have to sit back and watch how a person treats the people who have left their lives, no matter who does the leaving, to know that you are not immune to the same treatment when you fall out of favor. I made that mistake, because I once thought I was immune. I can hold my head high, regardless of my previous beggar whore status in my last catharsis. I know everything I did was out of love, and I will not sink to the level of hatred. My heart may have wretched disgusting pain, but the only thing that is larger than that is love, and the combination of both leaves no room for hatred. Only sadness, sadness is the another slice of the pie that beats within my chest. (Mmm pie, I am pregnant do not forget.) Sadness that slowly, each day, becomes less about me and more about those who try to destroy me. Sadness that lives can be so empty that my pain is what fills their worlds, and they mistake my pain as their joy. They pat themselves on the back, and give one another cheers. "Way to go, you sure showed her, the woman who would have walked through hell for you, who never turned her back, who was honest and kind and loved you to the ends of the earth and beyond, the woman who loved your children, who gave you her heart and soul, and more importantly her trust, the one you never had the courage to tell you were unhappy, the woman who boosted your ego until it was so large that she no longer fit inside your arms. Way to show her!"
Show me what? That while I am not a better human being than you, but I have better actions? Show me how thankful I am that I do not gloat in others misery, and their feelings, no matter who they are and what they have done, matter? That I choose to do my best not to contribute to the misery of this already wretched world of greed, pride, self loathing, and hatred? That when I do fall short I admit my mistakes, apologize with sincerity, and strive to make the wrong I have created right? Thanks for showing me guys (and lady). Thanks for showing me who my true friends are, and saving me the trouble of believing your lies any longer. Thank you for turning your backs, because I would not want to gaze on your face lest I turn into stone from the ugliness that seeps from your soul. Thank you for giving me the strength to own the name cunt, and to learn how to stand up for myself in the face of opposition and to truly know that I am the one who is strong, who is beautiful, and who is a true friend. Because a true friend lets you know why they walk away before they do it.
When people tell you can do better, you believe it. When people tell me I can do better, they believe it. When I tell myself you are better, I begin to doubt it. When you tell yourself you can do better, you may believe it, but you are beginning to doubt it. Otherwise you wouldn't need the approval of the minions to boost your confidence in your decision, you would remain silent, choose the higher road, and move on quietly. Instead you choose to make noise and scream "Everyone look at me I am fine! I left! I am right! Agree with me! I know no pain!" And that, with no regard for the life inside, me, the life that you stood up and said you wanted. Your actions show nothing close to that want, for as you tear down the mother, you tear down the child inside her, as we are two souls within one body. You cannot even handle your own soul with respect right now.
I choose to speak, but I speak in truth, I admit I am not perfect, I admit I was not perfect to you, or to myself, or to our children, but I recognize this and vow to do better, for the children I have left to love, and for myself. I refuse to lie and say "I am fine, look at me, I never cared, and I never will." I say "I am hurt, I am broken, I am not fine, but I will be ok, I will be fine, and I will be mended, when I am ready, but now I mourn, now I cry, and now I begin to pick up the pieces, but I will never disrespect the parts that will someday, I hope, remain the truth, not the lie I think it might have been, of what was once crazybeautifulimperfectpowerfullove." I respect the soul inside me, I respect my soul, and I still respect yours. I will not tear you down. How could I? I still love you, I will always love you, unconditionally. I never said I would always like you though. And besides, ou are doing a fine job tearing yourself down. The ones who agree with you, are lying to you same as they lied to me. Even the "lady" who you tried to convince me for so long was my friend, as I knew her before I knew you, was anything but, yet you still try to believe she is one to you. Someone like that is a friend to know one, and you say you hate drama, but that is all that fuels her life, and the lives of your minions. If it was not, they would not bother to try to suck life out of my pain.
Oh, and PS: a true friend will always realize their mistakes, and find that sincere apology, and a true friend, one of beauty and love, will always forgive. Because another slice of that beautiful pie beating inside my ches, that grows larger every day, is forgiveness. I will always forgive, I will never turn my back, although I will no longer break it to show you who I am. Forgiveness is something I can always grant, but there is only one of you who can ever hope to see my trust again. And that is really pushing it at this point.
Ok, ok, you got me. Its still only been a month. Today I focus on the life inside me. Today I smile. Today I laugh at the childish behavior of the people who wish to see me fail every day. Today I defy them. Today I got called a cunt. Today I own that name, because I have never, at least to my face, been called that. Today I am proud of that name, because today I stood up for myself and, in the spirit of kindness, let someone know the shit being talked about them due to their black hole that is their lack of maturity, and although I did not say it in the kindest way, it was honest. Today I am a cunt, if that is what you call a person who sticks up for themselves when people who once posed as friends make it their daily mission to tear down my sense of worth, only failing miserably to realize that the only people they are succeeding in hurting is themselves, then yes, I am a CUNT.
Don't get me wrong, there is a sting, as when you love someone, as I love someone, which is with all my heart and soul, its hard to accept that that person never was the person you believed them to be. It is hard to put your faith into someone, and to find that all along they were waiting for you to fail. That every smile was false, and they were not brave enough to be honest with you. The faith I am speaking of is not the faith you put into a lover's relationship, because when an ex lover makes up their mind that they are hurt, you expect them to lash out as sad as it is. A friend however, to whom you have never had anything but faith in, and the last time that person looked at you was with a smile and outstretched arms to hug you, and then you turn around and feel the cold steel of the knife trying to cut into you. I am sorry, did my back break your knife, because while it stings where you broke the skin, you will not, and cannot cut me any deeper, because all I feel for you is pity. Pity that you call yourself a friend yet do not know what it is like to be one, pity that obviously you don't know a what a true friend is to you, one who will watch you screw up, pick you up, tell you where you screwed up, and love you anyway.
You only have to sit back and watch how a person treats the people who have left their lives, no matter who does the leaving, to know that you are not immune to the same treatment when you fall out of favor. I made that mistake, because I once thought I was immune. I can hold my head high, regardless of my previous beggar whore status in my last catharsis. I know everything I did was out of love, and I will not sink to the level of hatred. My heart may have wretched disgusting pain, but the only thing that is larger than that is love, and the combination of both leaves no room for hatred. Only sadness, sadness is the another slice of the pie that beats within my chest. (Mmm pie, I am pregnant do not forget.) Sadness that slowly, each day, becomes less about me and more about those who try to destroy me. Sadness that lives can be so empty that my pain is what fills their worlds, and they mistake my pain as their joy. They pat themselves on the back, and give one another cheers. "Way to go, you sure showed her, the woman who would have walked through hell for you, who never turned her back, who was honest and kind and loved you to the ends of the earth and beyond, the woman who loved your children, who gave you her heart and soul, and more importantly her trust, the one you never had the courage to tell you were unhappy, the woman who boosted your ego until it was so large that she no longer fit inside your arms. Way to show her!"
Show me what? That while I am not a better human being than you, but I have better actions? Show me how thankful I am that I do not gloat in others misery, and their feelings, no matter who they are and what they have done, matter? That I choose to do my best not to contribute to the misery of this already wretched world of greed, pride, self loathing, and hatred? That when I do fall short I admit my mistakes, apologize with sincerity, and strive to make the wrong I have created right? Thanks for showing me guys (and lady). Thanks for showing me who my true friends are, and saving me the trouble of believing your lies any longer. Thank you for turning your backs, because I would not want to gaze on your face lest I turn into stone from the ugliness that seeps from your soul. Thank you for giving me the strength to own the name cunt, and to learn how to stand up for myself in the face of opposition and to truly know that I am the one who is strong, who is beautiful, and who is a true friend. Because a true friend lets you know why they walk away before they do it.
When people tell you can do better, you believe it. When people tell me I can do better, they believe it. When I tell myself you are better, I begin to doubt it. When you tell yourself you can do better, you may believe it, but you are beginning to doubt it. Otherwise you wouldn't need the approval of the minions to boost your confidence in your decision, you would remain silent, choose the higher road, and move on quietly. Instead you choose to make noise and scream "Everyone look at me I am fine! I left! I am right! Agree with me! I know no pain!" And that, with no regard for the life inside, me, the life that you stood up and said you wanted. Your actions show nothing close to that want, for as you tear down the mother, you tear down the child inside her, as we are two souls within one body. You cannot even handle your own soul with respect right now.
I choose to speak, but I speak in truth, I admit I am not perfect, I admit I was not perfect to you, or to myself, or to our children, but I recognize this and vow to do better, for the children I have left to love, and for myself. I refuse to lie and say "I am fine, look at me, I never cared, and I never will." I say "I am hurt, I am broken, I am not fine, but I will be ok, I will be fine, and I will be mended, when I am ready, but now I mourn, now I cry, and now I begin to pick up the pieces, but I will never disrespect the parts that will someday, I hope, remain the truth, not the lie I think it might have been, of what was once crazybeautifulimperfectpowerfullove." I respect the soul inside me, I respect my soul, and I still respect yours. I will not tear you down. How could I? I still love you, I will always love you, unconditionally. I never said I would always like you though. And besides, ou are doing a fine job tearing yourself down. The ones who agree with you, are lying to you same as they lied to me. Even the "lady" who you tried to convince me for so long was my friend, as I knew her before I knew you, was anything but, yet you still try to believe she is one to you. Someone like that is a friend to know one, and you say you hate drama, but that is all that fuels her life, and the lives of your minions. If it was not, they would not bother to try to suck life out of my pain.
Oh, and PS: a true friend will always realize their mistakes, and find that sincere apology, and a true friend, one of beauty and love, will always forgive. Because another slice of that beautiful pie beating inside my ches, that grows larger every day, is forgiveness. I will always forgive, I will never turn my back, although I will no longer break it to show you who I am. Forgiveness is something I can always grant, but there is only one of you who can ever hope to see my trust again. And that is really pushing it at this point.
Today I Scar
Day 257 of my journey into the inner circle of hell...
Ok not really. Its been just over a month, but it feels like hours pass within each minute. If you have ever seen a jack-o-lantern about a week after halloween, hollow, its inside scraped clean, its crooked smile caving in, the light that once was inside it long gone, begging to be smashed in the street by wreckless teenagers... that is how I feel today. Hollow, my insides scraped and strewn about, wilted, tired, but still with a crooked sad smile. If you dropped a pebble into me it would fall forever, and I am not sure if you would ever hear the splash of the reason the well was created in the first place... you could yell and you would only hear the echo of your own voice, misplaced and bouncing across the walls of insanity.
Speaking of insanity, I am done trying the same thing over and over and expecting it to change, for a heart to soften, for a mind to remember, for a dream to pick up at the same blissful moment that your alarm went off to awaken me to the reality that is my momentary eternity. Which is what it is... it will only be a moment in this my life, and not even a blink of an eye in the grander scheme of things. However, I can hardly describe it as grand in this breath, as I said, today, I have not a hope, not a dream, not a want, aside from the want to stop loving the way I do, to stop bleeding, to pass the stage of healing and to live as the scar. But a scar only for a short while, as scars are not as strong as the original flesh they replace, they are weaker, more vulnerable to reinjury, and do not have the same ability to regenerate as unwounded tissue. I will not be a scar, because when this is all over, when my heart does not travel between two souls, and returns to my chest, I will be stronger than I was, more determined not to compromise, more intent on finding something that is worth the pain.
But today, today I am tired. Today I am aching. Today I want to run away, and never look back. Today I stopped trying, and not for me, but for what once was. Today I begin to accept for all its fire and screams and tears, that there is nothing left to save. That maybe it was an illusion, all smoke and mirrors. Maybe the mirror that didn't lie, the one who reflected my joy, was in fact the king of liars. Because no matter how I fight, no matter how far I crawl through shards of glass, hoping to get to the other side, to be healed, I realize that all I have been crawling through was that mirror, exploding my false reality into what I can only assume was always a lie. Because if it wasn't, if it was real, it would not be what it is now, because no one you love like I was loved would ever rip you apart and feed you to the wolves, wolves that you never knew were starving for their attention. They would not steal your dignity and have you begging like a whore for even a glimpse of understanding into who they have become, why they do what they do, or why they would hand you your dream only to take it away and pretend it never was so. I can only believe that who they were to me, was never who they really were. That the good in me has been so blinded by wanting to believe it was really happening that I never actually saw what was really happening... and where my dream, where the only thing I have ever dreamed of having, being, feeling, loving, where that all turned into a nightmare from which I am waiting to wake up.
I have seen angels, I have awoken to a demon sitting on my chest. I smelled the sulfur and felt the claws, I could not move I could only pray, and I was not sleeping. I had a fear inside me that paled in comparison to any hollywood illusion, but I would rather face that fear again and again than to have to look someone in the eye to whom I bared my soul, to whom I revealed all my weaknesses, who I would crawl through an eternity of broken glass mirrors to stop their pain, than to have to feel the betrayal and disbelief that I have gone through in this last 257 days of my journey through hell. Any day of the year I would say I would go through it all again to feel that love, and to know I was loved like I believed I was, but today, I say no. Today, I would rather have never felt that safe in the arms of someone who is, and maybe always has been, a stranger. I would have never dropped my armor, and I would be bleeding, but it would not be my heart.
Ok not really. Its been just over a month, but it feels like hours pass within each minute. If you have ever seen a jack-o-lantern about a week after halloween, hollow, its inside scraped clean, its crooked smile caving in, the light that once was inside it long gone, begging to be smashed in the street by wreckless teenagers... that is how I feel today. Hollow, my insides scraped and strewn about, wilted, tired, but still with a crooked sad smile. If you dropped a pebble into me it would fall forever, and I am not sure if you would ever hear the splash of the reason the well was created in the first place... you could yell and you would only hear the echo of your own voice, misplaced and bouncing across the walls of insanity.
Speaking of insanity, I am done trying the same thing over and over and expecting it to change, for a heart to soften, for a mind to remember, for a dream to pick up at the same blissful moment that your alarm went off to awaken me to the reality that is my momentary eternity. Which is what it is... it will only be a moment in this my life, and not even a blink of an eye in the grander scheme of things. However, I can hardly describe it as grand in this breath, as I said, today, I have not a hope, not a dream, not a want, aside from the want to stop loving the way I do, to stop bleeding, to pass the stage of healing and to live as the scar. But a scar only for a short while, as scars are not as strong as the original flesh they replace, they are weaker, more vulnerable to reinjury, and do not have the same ability to regenerate as unwounded tissue. I will not be a scar, because when this is all over, when my heart does not travel between two souls, and returns to my chest, I will be stronger than I was, more determined not to compromise, more intent on finding something that is worth the pain.
But today, today I am tired. Today I am aching. Today I want to run away, and never look back. Today I stopped trying, and not for me, but for what once was. Today I begin to accept for all its fire and screams and tears, that there is nothing left to save. That maybe it was an illusion, all smoke and mirrors. Maybe the mirror that didn't lie, the one who reflected my joy, was in fact the king of liars. Because no matter how I fight, no matter how far I crawl through shards of glass, hoping to get to the other side, to be healed, I realize that all I have been crawling through was that mirror, exploding my false reality into what I can only assume was always a lie. Because if it wasn't, if it was real, it would not be what it is now, because no one you love like I was loved would ever rip you apart and feed you to the wolves, wolves that you never knew were starving for their attention. They would not steal your dignity and have you begging like a whore for even a glimpse of understanding into who they have become, why they do what they do, or why they would hand you your dream only to take it away and pretend it never was so. I can only believe that who they were to me, was never who they really were. That the good in me has been so blinded by wanting to believe it was really happening that I never actually saw what was really happening... and where my dream, where the only thing I have ever dreamed of having, being, feeling, loving, where that all turned into a nightmare from which I am waiting to wake up.
I have seen angels, I have awoken to a demon sitting on my chest. I smelled the sulfur and felt the claws, I could not move I could only pray, and I was not sleeping. I had a fear inside me that paled in comparison to any hollywood illusion, but I would rather face that fear again and again than to have to look someone in the eye to whom I bared my soul, to whom I revealed all my weaknesses, who I would crawl through an eternity of broken glass mirrors to stop their pain, than to have to feel the betrayal and disbelief that I have gone through in this last 257 days of my journey through hell. Any day of the year I would say I would go through it all again to feel that love, and to know I was loved like I believed I was, but today, I say no. Today, I would rather have never felt that safe in the arms of someone who is, and maybe always has been, a stranger. I would have never dropped my armor, and I would be bleeding, but it would not be my heart.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Today I Fail
February 27, 2012
Did you ever have one of those bad days, and someone asks you "when did your bad day start" and you just wanna say "you know, three months (years, eons, millenia) ago". Yeah. Its one of those days.
Who am I? Well, I am just your average 32 year old single mother with a broken heart. Sound familiar? Why would you want to read my story you are asking? You probably don't. But that doesn't mean I don't need to tell it.
I am not going back to year one, year 16, year 25. I am just going to deal with today. Because that is all the strength I have in this minute.
Today, I failed, I faltered, I fell. But I got back up. Why? Because its what I do. I can't sit here and pretend that today was just a day unlike most, because I have had a lot of bad days in my life. I have suffered, and no, I am not comparing my suffering to anyone else's. I am not a martyr, I am not a saint. I believe in God, and Jesus, the Universe, Buddha,nature, none I believe are mutually exclusive, but I have fallen on the side of sin more times than the side of sainthood. I have failed to listen more than I have listened, and I have learned some hard lessons because of it. Love, God, Whomever, has always taken me back into His arms, like a child who just can't listen and scrapes her knees after running too fast down a hill after her mother told her to slow down. He tells me "slow down child, you need to be patient, it is in my time not your time, my plan not your plan" but I still say "now, faster, I don't want to wait". But no matter how I protest, I still know it is not in my time, it is in His.
I have fallen pray to so many sins... I have attempted to end my life on more than one occasion. I don't expect you to understand it all. Unless you have stared yourself in the mirror and known what it feels like to despise the face in the mirror, to look at yourself and say, that is not me, that is an imposter looking at me. I am ugly and no good, I am evil and wicked, and the face who stares at me is beautiful and kind, and lovable and worth forgiveness, and believe that face must be a lie, you will never know what I am talking about. You will never stand at the end of your rope and let go, hoping that you will be brought to peace, and if not peace, at least to a blissful state of nothing.You will call me selfish, among other things. You will look at me and say nothing could ever be that bad. Only those who have looked into that mirror will understand, and if they are still here to read this, they will not judge me. The only others who would not judge me are no longer here, because they weren't so lucky as I, to wake up, still breathing, still hurting, still thanking God for another chance to... well, feel human. Because that is what being a human is about- its about pain, and suffering, and lessons, fucking so many lessons, and its about rising above that pain, and suffering and finding some sort of light to hang onto... and the only light I can ever see is love, and sometimes, I still wonder about that.
The love of my daughter is what saved me, the thing that tied me to this world, for better or for worse, through agony and bliss. She is the one thing that keeps me afloat when the world, or more often myself, has gone and tangled my limbs in a web of chains and rocks and weights that want to pull me under. She is the one thing I can still see when I look into that mirror of lies, and the one thing that pulls me back to the surface when my lungs fill with black and I can no longer breathe.
I feel selfish for that sometimes, because while I know she loves me more than anything in this world, I know all the times I have failed her, and I know her heart, so pure and full of love, deserves so much more than I can give her. But I keep trying, I keep breathing, even if every breath is like a knife in my side, and I live for those moments where she smiles, because I can feel my heart smile too.
And I say she saved me, this is true, but now, now I have another to live for. No, still not me, although I do spend countless hours fighting the evil thoughts that tell me I am not good, not worth it, and not going to make it. It may sound like I do not love myself, but if I did not, I would have self destructed long ago... long before she was in my life. I have a new life inside me. A life made from true love, from a light that lit my darkness for what seemed like forever. You have to understand, that while it was a blink in time, it was an eternity for one who has spent most of their life in the confines of darkness with only their sense of touch (and feelings, horrible, beautiful, twisted feelings) to guide them. Yes, cliche I know, that this was a man, but for a time this man replaced my mirror, and when I looked into him I saw a face staring back at me, a face that was mine, and that was beautiful and kind, and lovable and worth forgiveness, and for that time it was not a lie. He was light, and I was light, and I could see it in his soul, and feel it in mine.
You may ask, why do I not make my daughter my mirror, because in her I see the good in me, but I cannot place such a burden on someone so innocent, because the only mirror she needs to be should reflect fairies and princesses and puppies,and dreams of being an astronaut, cowgirl, ballerina, and veteranarian. I will not cloud her mirror with mine, because there is not enough windex in the world to clean that away.
But I digress, as out of this light, the fire we lit within each other, just before it was smothered by, as I can only see, my own demons and the jealousy of those posing as friends (they did not like our happiness, because in it their loneliness grew so much stronger), as if the they could not stand its glow, and called to have it put out, we used the last of that pure love to create a new life. And I say the pure love, because I felt it that day, I knew in my soul the moment the life was created, and it was beautiful. It IS beautiful, but it was all that was left that was pure, because while there is still love, it has been left disheveled and broken and beaten and is unwanted by the very one who wished for it in the first place. It is no longer recognizable, to even myself, because although I feel it, I feel God's word, and I have seen the angels in my dreams, angels who I never knew while they were upon this earth, but who know me now, and knew him since he still was an innocent, and they all tell me the same thing, do not believe the lies and evil that is being shown to you now, because he is good, and he is love. Although I see the angels, and hear God's word, I still hear the demon of doubt yelling in my ear, that what I hold onto is simply the light of the star we wished upon when love was good, as you can see that light long after the body that created it is gone.
So I try to concentrate on that light, that love, the innocent being growing so fast, the love that will be born and escape into what will become newborn tears, and baby laughter, and tiny toes, and the bluest eyes that you have ever seen will stare up at me, and I will be home again, no longer lost. I will be in love all over, a feeling so incredible that love seems to be a word that does not even do it justice. Those blue eyes will look up at me, and my son (I believe that is a boy, who will restore my faith in the dirty noisy beasts that men are), my SON will look at me, and he will trust me to hold him, and love him, and protect him no matter how tired, how hurt, and how broken I may be on any given moment, and I will do that for him. And there will be times that I will fail him, as I have failed my daughter, but I will always promise them that I will try again, and I will not give up on myself because they deserve a mother who, despite the mirrors and doused flames and smoke and ashes, will try every day to love herself so she can show them what it means to love them. I love them, my son and my daughter (or maybe my daughters), even though I have not met the second. I love their brother and sisters, who I can no longer tell I love, so I have put my faith in Him, the Lord, that they know I do.
Did you ever have one of those bad days, and someone asks you "when did your bad day start" and you just wanna say "you know, three months (years, eons, millenia) ago". Yeah. Its one of those days.
Who am I? Well, I am just your average 32 year old single mother with a broken heart. Sound familiar? Why would you want to read my story you are asking? You probably don't. But that doesn't mean I don't need to tell it.
I am not going back to year one, year 16, year 25. I am just going to deal with today. Because that is all the strength I have in this minute.
Today, I failed, I faltered, I fell. But I got back up. Why? Because its what I do. I can't sit here and pretend that today was just a day unlike most, because I have had a lot of bad days in my life. I have suffered, and no, I am not comparing my suffering to anyone else's. I am not a martyr, I am not a saint. I believe in God, and Jesus, the Universe, Buddha,nature, none I believe are mutually exclusive, but I have fallen on the side of sin more times than the side of sainthood. I have failed to listen more than I have listened, and I have learned some hard lessons because of it. Love, God, Whomever, has always taken me back into His arms, like a child who just can't listen and scrapes her knees after running too fast down a hill after her mother told her to slow down. He tells me "slow down child, you need to be patient, it is in my time not your time, my plan not your plan" but I still say "now, faster, I don't want to wait". But no matter how I protest, I still know it is not in my time, it is in His.
I have fallen pray to so many sins... I have attempted to end my life on more than one occasion. I don't expect you to understand it all. Unless you have stared yourself in the mirror and known what it feels like to despise the face in the mirror, to look at yourself and say, that is not me, that is an imposter looking at me. I am ugly and no good, I am evil and wicked, and the face who stares at me is beautiful and kind, and lovable and worth forgiveness, and believe that face must be a lie, you will never know what I am talking about. You will never stand at the end of your rope and let go, hoping that you will be brought to peace, and if not peace, at least to a blissful state of nothing.You will call me selfish, among other things. You will look at me and say nothing could ever be that bad. Only those who have looked into that mirror will understand, and if they are still here to read this, they will not judge me. The only others who would not judge me are no longer here, because they weren't so lucky as I, to wake up, still breathing, still hurting, still thanking God for another chance to... well, feel human. Because that is what being a human is about- its about pain, and suffering, and lessons, fucking so many lessons, and its about rising above that pain, and suffering and finding some sort of light to hang onto... and the only light I can ever see is love, and sometimes, I still wonder about that.
The love of my daughter is what saved me, the thing that tied me to this world, for better or for worse, through agony and bliss. She is the one thing that keeps me afloat when the world, or more often myself, has gone and tangled my limbs in a web of chains and rocks and weights that want to pull me under. She is the one thing I can still see when I look into that mirror of lies, and the one thing that pulls me back to the surface when my lungs fill with black and I can no longer breathe.
I feel selfish for that sometimes, because while I know she loves me more than anything in this world, I know all the times I have failed her, and I know her heart, so pure and full of love, deserves so much more than I can give her. But I keep trying, I keep breathing, even if every breath is like a knife in my side, and I live for those moments where she smiles, because I can feel my heart smile too.
And I say she saved me, this is true, but now, now I have another to live for. No, still not me, although I do spend countless hours fighting the evil thoughts that tell me I am not good, not worth it, and not going to make it. It may sound like I do not love myself, but if I did not, I would have self destructed long ago... long before she was in my life. I have a new life inside me. A life made from true love, from a light that lit my darkness for what seemed like forever. You have to understand, that while it was a blink in time, it was an eternity for one who has spent most of their life in the confines of darkness with only their sense of touch (and feelings, horrible, beautiful, twisted feelings) to guide them. Yes, cliche I know, that this was a man, but for a time this man replaced my mirror, and when I looked into him I saw a face staring back at me, a face that was mine, and that was beautiful and kind, and lovable and worth forgiveness, and for that time it was not a lie. He was light, and I was light, and I could see it in his soul, and feel it in mine.
You may ask, why do I not make my daughter my mirror, because in her I see the good in me, but I cannot place such a burden on someone so innocent, because the only mirror she needs to be should reflect fairies and princesses and puppies,and dreams of being an astronaut, cowgirl, ballerina, and veteranarian. I will not cloud her mirror with mine, because there is not enough windex in the world to clean that away.
But I digress, as out of this light, the fire we lit within each other, just before it was smothered by, as I can only see, my own demons and the jealousy of those posing as friends (they did not like our happiness, because in it their loneliness grew so much stronger), as if the they could not stand its glow, and called to have it put out, we used the last of that pure love to create a new life. And I say the pure love, because I felt it that day, I knew in my soul the moment the life was created, and it was beautiful. It IS beautiful, but it was all that was left that was pure, because while there is still love, it has been left disheveled and broken and beaten and is unwanted by the very one who wished for it in the first place. It is no longer recognizable, to even myself, because although I feel it, I feel God's word, and I have seen the angels in my dreams, angels who I never knew while they were upon this earth, but who know me now, and knew him since he still was an innocent, and they all tell me the same thing, do not believe the lies and evil that is being shown to you now, because he is good, and he is love. Although I see the angels, and hear God's word, I still hear the demon of doubt yelling in my ear, that what I hold onto is simply the light of the star we wished upon when love was good, as you can see that light long after the body that created it is gone.
So I try to concentrate on that light, that love, the innocent being growing so fast, the love that will be born and escape into what will become newborn tears, and baby laughter, and tiny toes, and the bluest eyes that you have ever seen will stare up at me, and I will be home again, no longer lost. I will be in love all over, a feeling so incredible that love seems to be a word that does not even do it justice. Those blue eyes will look up at me, and my son (I believe that is a boy, who will restore my faith in the dirty noisy beasts that men are), my SON will look at me, and he will trust me to hold him, and love him, and protect him no matter how tired, how hurt, and how broken I may be on any given moment, and I will do that for him. And there will be times that I will fail him, as I have failed my daughter, but I will always promise them that I will try again, and I will not give up on myself because they deserve a mother who, despite the mirrors and doused flames and smoke and ashes, will try every day to love herself so she can show them what it means to love them. I love them, my son and my daughter (or maybe my daughters), even though I have not met the second. I love their brother and sisters, who I can no longer tell I love, so I have put my faith in Him, the Lord, that they know I do.
Hotel Room, Oct 2008
This cheap hotel room’s soiled sheet reminds me of your bed,
Like so many girls before me who naively were misled,
You look so polished in the mirror with your t-shirt and cologne,
As you take her hand does she understand you cannot be alone?
You fake a smile and walk the walk of a proud man standing tall,
But when you talk the talk I know the mask you put on for us all,
So inviting on the surface, so charming and so sweet,
You hide the lies and alibis and hearts left at your feet.
I know some days you’re led astray and try to hid the shame
I tried to care, I tried to share, lift the burden and the pain
You say you gave me chances to change my devilish way
Although you know it is I who is real not playing on a stage
I bought into the make-believe of your twisted fantasy
Your childlike fears and selfish tears reveal transparency
Your Blackout curtains hide the dawn drawn tightly as you sleep
My world goes on my will is strong and sunshine I will seek
This old warped glass twists the moon through the hotel's window pane,
My vision now clear, I no longer adhere, hypocritical rules of your game
I know deep down you're not all bad as I lie in this dirty hotel room,
But I wash my hands of your empty promised land as the game you do resume.
October 28 2009
Like so many girls before me who naively were misled,
You look so polished in the mirror with your t-shirt and cologne,
As you take her hand does she understand you cannot be alone?
You fake a smile and walk the walk of a proud man standing tall,
But when you talk the talk I know the mask you put on for us all,
So inviting on the surface, so charming and so sweet,
You hide the lies and alibis and hearts left at your feet.
I know some days you’re led astray and try to hid the shame
I tried to care, I tried to share, lift the burden and the pain
You say you gave me chances to change my devilish way
Although you know it is I who is real not playing on a stage
I bought into the make-believe of your twisted fantasy
Your childlike fears and selfish tears reveal transparency
Your Blackout curtains hide the dawn drawn tightly as you sleep
My world goes on my will is strong and sunshine I will seek
This old warped glass twists the moon through the hotel's window pane,
My vision now clear, I no longer adhere, hypocritical rules of your game
I know deep down you're not all bad as I lie in this dirty hotel room,
But I wash my hands of your empty promised land as the game you do resume.
October 28 2009
Unrest
It’s hard to believe the human race,
Was ever meant for just one face,
One set of arms to hold it tight,
One set of lips to make it right,
My mind is blank and disbelieving,
That lover’s touch won’t leave you grieving,
Seems to make more sense to me,
Hold him tonight then set him free,
Never look back in anger or unrest,
Deafened ears to his protest,
Lustful hands and wanting eyes,
Need no excuses, need no lies,
A passing glance as I walk by,
He doesn’t know me, I don’t try,
A fickle emotion love may be,
Imagination can twist the memory,
Interpretations of reality are relative,
Never get back all you give,
The human race so selfish and cold,
No room for the bashful only the bold,
Don’t covet my heart for it’s made of stone,
Not long lips like these remain alone,
He watches clocks tick away and minutes slip by,
I’m onto another, I’m blind to his cry.
Was ever meant for just one face,
One set of arms to hold it tight,
One set of lips to make it right,
My mind is blank and disbelieving,
That lover’s touch won’t leave you grieving,
Seems to make more sense to me,
Hold him tonight then set him free,
Never look back in anger or unrest,
Deafened ears to his protest,
Lustful hands and wanting eyes,
Need no excuses, need no lies,
A passing glance as I walk by,
He doesn’t know me, I don’t try,
A fickle emotion love may be,
Imagination can twist the memory,
Interpretations of reality are relative,
Never get back all you give,
The human race so selfish and cold,
No room for the bashful only the bold,
Don’t covet my heart for it’s made of stone,
Not long lips like these remain alone,
He watches clocks tick away and minutes slip by,
I’m onto another, I’m blind to his cry.
Megan Forrest
If you choose to know me... 2009
If you choose to know me, know me as I am from this day on, because to know my past is to know my pain, and to know my pain is to learn where I have fallen short time and time again. To know me now is to know that I have picked myself up every time I have fallen, and have tried to right where I have wronged. I have forgiven even those who have yet to be able to forgive me. I will not share the betrayals, mine or others', because although I am the same flesh who hurt and who was hurt, I am a stranger to whom I once was. For good or for bad, I cannot change who I have been, for it has led me to who I am today. For good or for bad, in darkness and in light, I can only try each day to be better than I am at this moment, and to recognize that tomorrow opens the door to second chances. These second chances may or may not be what I thought I desired yesterday, or think I desire today, they will be at the very least a chance for a new beginning, and change. I am forever linked to the sins of my past, and the only guarantee I can make is that one day in the future I will again fall short or fail. The only promise I can make to myself is that on that day I will again pick myself back up and try to make right by learning from where I have gone wrong. I make this promise to myself because if I cannot keep a promise to myself, I can never keep a promise to another. One of the only constants in life is change, positive or negative, often unnoticed until one day you look back upon what has been days, weeks, years, or eternity, and you open your eyes and see every tiny step has become a giant leap. The only thing that carries us is faith, and without faith we are alone, but with faith we may hope to one day recognize the beauty within one another, faults and all.
April, 2010
I can sense it getting closer,
The scent of Satan on the wind,
I can taste the sulfur on his breath,
A blade of darkness through my skin,
It never seems to leave me long,
Even on the brightest days,
It circles just beyond the light,
Like a loyal dog it stays,
He moves in like a predator,
Faster than the winter chill,
And whispers in my weakened mind,
"I am waiting for you still",
Like prey I run, until my feet,
Stumble, slip, and slide,
My will begins to slowly wane,
For he is close to where I hide,
His cunning ways begin to fool,
His voice soon becomes my own,
Conniving and conspiring,
Until the seed of doubt is sown,
My thoughts become twisted and torn,
Cruelly contorted as the faces,
Of weeping souls in burning coals,
Who’ve locked themselves in wooden cases,
He arrived when I close my eyes,
A garden he waits to reap,
Of planted lies inside my soul, Sweet stolen peaceful sleep, Anxious as I await his arrival, Close is the comfort of my enemy, Another battle has begun, To God I softly plea.
April 2010
April 26, 2010
Just because I chose to rhyme,
The lyric laid upon this page,
Doesn’t mean they aren’t mine,
The love, the lonely, the rage,
They tiptoe through your memory,
Experience defines each word,
But the context seems to deviate,
From what I have seen, felt, heard,
Drink them in with bloodshot eyes,
I am unable to intrude,
You think you have a piece of me,
However don’t be misconstrued,
I wave them like a puppet,
Connotation dances on a string,
barely scratched the surface,
Never realize how it stings,
Should one day I you choose to read
A little deeper than you should,
I won’t be held responsible,
I warned you I’m no good,
I hold a smile behind the words,
So simple to bend and shape,
While all the time dreadful thoughts
Play my mind and disguise escape
Should one day you choose to read
A little deeper than you should,
I will be held responsible,
Should have left you when I could.
April 2010
The lyric laid upon this page,
Doesn’t mean they aren’t mine,
The love, the lonely, the rage,
They tiptoe through your memory,
Experience defines each word,
But the context seems to deviate,
From what I have seen, felt, heard,
Drink them in with bloodshot eyes,
I am unable to intrude,
You think you have a piece of me,
However don’t be misconstrued,
I wave them like a puppet,
Connotation dances on a string,
barely scratched the surface,
Never realize how it stings,
Should one day I you choose to read
A little deeper than you should,
I won’t be held responsible,
I warned you I’m no good,
I hold a smile behind the words,
So simple to bend and shape,
While all the time dreadful thoughts
Play my mind and disguise escape
Should one day you choose to read
A little deeper than you should,
I will be held responsible,
Should have left you when I could.
April 2010
Friday, April 29, 2011 "My Love"
Its deafening in here I can’t even see my own thoughts swirl
It’s like a ballerina forced to leap and jump and twirl
Ripped from one wing to the other my toes are cracked and bleeding
I cannot walk I cannot talk, my steps and words they are misleading,
I bend I mold I shape I fake I conform to every whim
I cannot find out who I am when I am so lost in him
What once was a rock that lifted me up has slowly pinned me down
My ribs are cracked my heart exposed and no savior is around
He was the one who’s ears were clear, who heard my every word
I must now be speaking drunkenly, he says my words they are absurd
I cannot fight for I must love, though love may kill me in the end
Kind words fall right through the cracks we never stopped to mend
Can one give up a vision although only one man holds
Or do I see it through, find the glue, or is the blacksmiths fire cold?
I cannot run I cannot hide I cannot make a sound,
I can only wait to seal my fate and believe his love will still surround.
It’s like a ballerina forced to leap and jump and twirl
Ripped from one wing to the other my toes are cracked and bleeding
I cannot walk I cannot talk, my steps and words they are misleading,
I bend I mold I shape I fake I conform to every whim
I cannot find out who I am when I am so lost in him
What once was a rock that lifted me up has slowly pinned me down
My ribs are cracked my heart exposed and no savior is around
He was the one who’s ears were clear, who heard my every word
I must now be speaking drunkenly, he says my words they are absurd
I cannot fight for I must love, though love may kill me in the end
Kind words fall right through the cracks we never stopped to mend
Can one give up a vision although only one man holds
Or do I see it through, find the glue, or is the blacksmiths fire cold?
I cannot run I cannot hide I cannot make a sound,
I can only wait to seal my fate and believe his love will still surround.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)