I am no longer a first time swimming parent. We are seasoned pros at this. Old hat for us. Remembering to bring a lawn chair, rule #1. #winning
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Saturday, October 4, 2014
The best of friends are the ones who show up at 8pm when you lock your keys in your car. Who offer you their beer and cigarettes and a nice warm blanket just so you can sit on their lazy boy chair in silence watching old episodes of the walking dead.
And sometimes, that is all you really need.
Thursday, October 2, 2014
There are angels all around us. Real life, tangible angels. You don't know who they are until they text you randomly in the afternoon, show up late with a bottle of wine, and leave $40 on your counter even when you protest. They are the ones you never see coming, never would have expected to be someone to help fix you, even if just a little bit. People need people.
And all I can say is thank you. For the wine, for the conversation, for the money that is graciously accepted, yet completely unnecessary.
It is amazing the things you can have in common with someone you never really gave a thought of other than in passing. Knowing and being told that what you have to say, matters. Even if to no one else, to them.
Battered women have the makings of a battered woman. Visible, touchable. Even if they hide in places under shorts and pants. On rib cages and arms. On legs, backs, and when they are visible. Hand marks around the neck, stitches on an eyebrow. A black eye. A broken nose. A broken spirit.
Even a woman who is being abused emotionally, the depth of their eyes are empty. Dead. Trying to feel nothing because they are made to feel like they are nothing.
I have no visible unintentional markings. My nose isn't broken. My limbs are all intact.
I don't even know if my eyes are dead, or if I am just that good at pretending, ignoring, forgetting for a moment more that this terrible thing has happened. That this terrible thing happened to ME.
And I find it had to concentrate, try desperately to bury myself in anything but this emptiness inside of me. This loneliness. This isolation.
I am a battered women and there no visible marks to prove that this terrible thing happened. To me.
So many terrible, awful things happen on this planet. I am warm, and fed, and for the most part loved.
But this is still my burden. My pain. My brokenness that will never seem to heal fully. When do I get the chance to confront my abuser? When can I hold up this empty hole and say "Here, this is yours. You did this."?
Monday, September 29, 2014
I am talking about those kind of dreams that startle you awake tear soaked because the person you thought you cared about has left. Or said awful things to you, in person, or the dream. Things that cannot be unsaid or forgotten. Things that deep down in some way you know are true about yourself. The most you can do is try to wipe the tears away, and go back to sleep. A sleep that comes awkwardly at best. I haven't had dreams like that since D. Never expected to have them about Chris.
Monday, September 22, 2014
- my monetary debt is settled around my student loans. It sucks, but it is a way of life. It is my burden to bear, and not until after I've graduated, thank goodness.
- I have raised a child. On my own. Pretty much from conception until this point (he'll be 11 in December.) He is pretty awesome. He has decent manners, body hygiene, and listens well. He is an all around good kid, and although I've had help with my parents, this has been all me.
- On the topic of Aiden, he was born with bilateral clubfoot, which will never define him, but bears into consideration MY character and that I never allowed it to slow him down. He is now a competitive swimmer.
- I am a fulltime student. I get crazy busy with homework, go days with little to no sleep but still manage to take care of my child, and hold down a job.
- I have a job. It's not my favorite pastime in the world, but it pays the bills.
- I have my own apartment, I don't live with my parents. Other than Medicaid, (which my son qualifies for) we are government assistance-free.
- I love to travel.
- I am a terrific cook.
- I am honest to a fault.
- You will never have to question where you stand with me. I will tell you straight up.
- My bed is extremely comfortable.
- I am not a heavy drinker, though I do enjoy going out or sharing a bottle of wine every once in a while.
- I detest liars. I cannot stand to be ignored.
- if you talk about open communication and then disappear for days at a time with no communication, you are not an open communicator. I don't care the circumstance. In this day and age, it is so easy to send a text or facebook message when you're in the bathroom let alone anywhere else that may warrant it.
- I love live concerts. Preferably anything but country. However, live music is awesome.
- I can talk about anything and everything, we will never lack in conversation.
I am not needy. Good morning, goodnight, they go a long way. Respect, goes a long way. If there is a mutual respect and admiration, there is going to want to be more and more time spent together in order to get to know that person, right?
When do I get my turn?