I find myself sitting here tonight with nothing to do in particular. I was heading out to a meeting earlier and got as far as the service station for some fuel when I saw what was headed this way......nice storm, big wind, beautiful lightening, but I'm not driving in it....nuh uh
So, yes, I'm sitting here next to my window watching the lightening and trying to put some order into my head......I am still carrying the residue of my recent ...well, whatever it has been, and I would like to just talk with my fingers here to myself, and you, for a while I guess.
Been thinking about patterns and behaviour's, all sorts really, but mine in particular.
I want to get it right this life......I want to get this life right....to me this is the same thing
I have always, always been driven to dive headfirst into stuff and repent at leisure.....I am sick of doing this but I also like my spontaneity and if I had to spend my life planning every move and weighing every consequence I would go fucking nuts I am sure......so I am not actually sick of doing this but I am sick of the consequences.......sigh.....time to CHANGE
Looking at shadow I suppose, the two sides of the coin, the dark and the light.....
Looking at my tendency to play the martyr.....seeing me in this here right now being the damn heroine and putting myself last and 'saving' everyone and not doing any of it very well but doing it regardless. Not being able to save her.......then trying to fix that and STILL playing the martyr by feeling guilty for wanting out......
Looking at me playing the victim here, letting everybody else's stuff weigh me down so heavily that I lose sight of myself in there and have to run around like an idiot to try to save myself from obscurity by trying desperately to find another pair of eyes to see myself with, that and thinking that someone else can save me from drowning in my sorrow..........
Where was this sorrow born? Where did it come from?
Do I indulge my inner victim/martyr by waffling on about abuse and neglect and abandonment and such?
Do I vilify my main abuser, who happens to be the one who I am 'martyring' myself for?? Do I carry on and on about things that cannot be changed ever and that have no real place in my life anymore because they no longer have the power they once did. Do I try to explain myself to you by telling you constantly where I came from and why I am this messy sometimes???
Do I introduce you to my pain and say "See, this is ME, who I am, who is me..."
No, I don't. Not intentionally anyway, I hope I have grown past all that.
I am not my pain, past or present....I am not any of my behaviours or experiences or actions or reactions....
I am not a principle or a rule or a value or a concept....
I am all of these things and none of them........
I am whatever I damn well CHOOSE to be on any given day....at any given moment
That is both the bitch and the joy of it
It is ALL MY CHOICE!
I know I have been here before on this blog, well, here I am again....
I wish I could be oh so very articulate and say things in a way that makes them seem like I know exactly what I am talking about. I wish you didn't seem to think I am stupid......or maybe that is me who thinks that?
You know, I know I can be acting out big time, coming across as whatever but underneath all of that I am sometimes still that frightened kid worried about what if......
What if.....what I loved you and you didn't love me, what if I tried that and couldn't do it, what if I showed you and you didn't see, what if I got it all wrong, said it badly, looked the wrong way???
Well, what if I did???
What if you hurt me???
Well, what if you do.......
How do you live then? How do you live if you are too afraid to step up and take a chance? What if you consider that you might get hurt but you want it anyway? What if you go do it and it all fucks up.....what if it doesn't??? What if it's the best thing you ever did? What if it hurts anyway? Will it be worth it???
Yes, it will.
You see, that is me, I don't mind fucking up so much. I do mind not trying to get it right because I am too damn scared of failing.....I spent too many years too scared to try......too scared to speak
Who knows, it might even be the best thing ever....
I don't happen to think that is stupid
I don't really think I am either...
I just call it life and try to live it as best I can most days
Or is that just an excuse for me to go do what ever I feel like and fuck everybody else in the process??
This is all stuff I have done or been accused of doing in the past.....why it is coming up for me now I do not know. Well, maybe I do.
Maybe this is all mother stuff and it is going to get dealt with one way or another right now or else......maybe this is so
Maybe one day I will tell you about my mum on here
I hope when I tell it it is a nice story
If I told you right now it wouldn't be one
Maybe that's where I am really at.....
oh fuck, how did I get here?
I see in this moment that my pain IS me and has been for this last while, that I am hurting.
That my bones ache with it sometimes. And it isn't about another person, it is about me. That me, that little one who had no voice and who wasn't allowed to cry when it damn well hurt.
Who wanted her daddy, who wanted to get saved from the bad thing.........fucking fucking hell.
I hate that this stuff is still in me and that it needs to get out. Again.
That the only way it can get out is by me touching it a little and giving it a voice and letting it go.....well, fucking GO.
I don't want my mother to die.
Yet there were many times I wished her dead.
Now I've said it.
Was that the victim or the martyr?
Or was it just me?