Self vs. Self

Currently, I am writing while listening to the latest episode of "The Good Wife". My kids are not sleeping upstairs in my room. I wish they were more like childhood me, able to fill their adult-less time with imagination, stories, toys. I sit here knowing that they just want me. And yet here I sit, unable to lay with them in peace. Its as if my mind has been electrified. The thoughts don't stop rolling.. They just keep coming and going, like fleeting winds. I had hoped to grab hold of the momentary inspirations only to be interrupted. And nowa self imposed distraction just to get the words flowing because I may be regressing.

I feel as if I am weathering a storm in a life preserver. Yielding to the ebb & flow of the ocean waves. Its calming.  And then the sky darkens and the waves crash. While I'm thrashed between waves and wind, My jacket keeps me afloat.

I keep having this dream that one day I will be somebody.. Not as if  I am not somebody. (everyone is) I mean it in a societal changing way. I just have to continue to learn precisely how that will happen. I want to go back to school. Fill a personal goal that has been weighing on me the more I delve into myself & art. Its inspiring, waking up everyday to do the very thing that terrifies you. Sometimes I wonder if the path I am walking or choosing to walk is the "right" one. I think its right for me, but how will it shape and mold my children? Am I being selfish by calming manic thoughts instead of laying in bed with my loves?

I wonder.

Never draw a line in the sand...

"You should stop drawing lines in the sand, the ocean will wash it away and make you forget your place" -JSansChez


Its late. I'm sitting in  my husbands house, the house I formerly shared with him, our kids and his family. I want to cry like I have every night for the last week but I can't. I won't. Not here, not now. Not in this place where so many of my tears have already been shed. Occasionally I look over my shoulder, watching ghosts replay the past.

Today while drying off my 3 year old daughter, she tells me that she doesn't like me.  She goes on to tell me that she doesn't want me here. When I ask her why she says "because you hurt daddy's feelings" Because I hurt daddy's feelings... I had to fight the anger inside of me at that moment in time. Realizing that this 3 year old child has no clue as to what has transpired between her father and I. He view is completely distorted by the words he tells her. His version, which in my opinion, is way too adult for her toddler mind. She may have seen him crying. And my heart bleeds if she did. But I get frustrated at how he has began physical altercations in front of her and she sees it as me hurting him. I fear that she will be raised to accept violence and victimization in her relationships in the future because despite what we go through, in her eyes I am the perpetrator. I am wrong. Because in her fathers eyes, I am wrong.

It makes me really think about what I am holding on to.  I think about what I am passing on. Or rather, allowing to be passed on to my children. Particularly my daughter. She will one day grow up to be a black woman. Societal assumptions aside, she's got a lot to fight against. Where will she end up if she already believes she would be wrong for standing up for herself. For exiting a toxic relationship for the salvation of her soul, she'll be wrong. Will she learn the tradition of repression or the custom of expression in her life?  I can only look to myself for these answers. The answers lie in the lessons I am teaching. And since I do not have the privilege  of living with them, I don't know how to be effective in what i teach them. Aside from quitting my job and being with them 24/7. An obscene thought to my independent,driven mind. Not that I couldn't be a stay at home mom, I'm just not built for that mentally. It drives me insane, when I have nothing to contribute to the income & welfare of my household.. Its not who I am.Not that I am incapable of doing domestic tasks, but I recognize the fact that I was raised to be apart of a team, not a single parent. Not a dormat, subordinate, or homebody. I was taught to be ambitious, to go after what i want and to get it. I wish for my daughter to be instilled with the same gusto. I hope she gets my lust and passion for life. I hope she knows her worth, always.

Its nights like these when I get mad at my heart. For wanting a man that is so confusing.. That demands I take responsibility for words while he takes no responsibility for his actions. It confounds me how he can say I don't want to be a mother to my children when he's the one that put me in the position I'm in at the moment. Walking away from him shouldn't have meant I had to walk away from them. I'm all for talking to children as if they are older, it gives them a sense of maturity. It helps them to understand whats going on. But some things shouldn't be said. Speaking to children and saying things like "mommy has to decide what she wants", it makes them think I don't want them. And that is/was never the case. Post-partum aside, my kids are the single greatest accomplishment of my life. They are the only think I have done right, the only people I strive to do right by always. They are the first and last thought on my mind. I break my neck to give them as much time as I can while trying to balance work, a flourishing art career, and womanhood. And they think I don't want to be with them and it breaks my heart.

There's an old saying that goes "never let the kids know mommy & daddy are fighting". Its the only thing I have ever truly tried to avoid. But its hard when your partner is so hot blooded. And me being reactionary,  I fight so hard not to feed into it every time. Lately I've been getting better at taking a breath and stepping away from arguments. Retreating to the idea that there is humanity in him. That there is hope in us. Not in our marriage but in us. Two adults that communicate honestly and openly, that raise their children with love and respect. I don't see why we have to revert to this passive aggressive life of silent hostility because our marriage isn't working. Why all the lies on top of lies on top of lies, just to lay them all at my feet and call it my shit.  At this point, does it even matter?

I won't lie, this hurts. To hear someone who you've loved for so long speak in monotoned apathy, as if you are a stranger. It hurts. It hurts so much to have to let go of the hope I held for so long.  I had hoped that in our year apart he would take the same journey I was on. That he would've let me go sooner. Not because I wasn't coming back, but because I just needed room to fly. As much as we argue about the past being repeated, I always find it funny that he never notices that no matter what, I always come home.

I could go on typing for days but I'm realizing that all this is just meant for me to learn my worth, my wants & my needs. I love him, I want him but it's taken me too long to become comfortable in my own skin. To allow myself to live in truth & visibility. And I won't hide any longer. I won't be silent but I will go quietly. It may be years until we ever become friends again. My only hope now is that we can eventually cohabitate the same space at the same time in peace & love.

The Wall (05.17.12)

There's this place that runners call "the wall." its different for everyone. some people get to the wall after a mile, or two, or more, or less. when riding my bike around henderson, where my mom lives, i would reach my wall after and hour of biking. always on my way home from the library. i would only be about a half mile away at the bottom of an incredibly steep hill, i could walk the rest of the way but it always hurt more. at times i would stop, catch my breath, and then continue on forward but slowly.

today i have reached the first wall of many more to come. being back in the city, after some time,  initially can cause a shock to the system. i've been running around all week, walking, climbing steps, running for busses & trains. i came home today because of an allergic reaction i was having to some food. after i took my allergy meds, i fell out. now that i am awake my body is aching in ways i have forgotten about. i feel the need to stop and rest. but then i remember i haven't seen my kids in two days. my husband is suffering from terrible pain in his knees. i lost my metrocard, so i will have to walk the 1.3 miles to their house. it's a tough decision to make, to climb the wall. get over it to the other side triumphant and continue forward.

my problem is motivation. my body doesn't won't cooperate and rationalize it to move for that long. after that nap, i'm still drowsy from the medication. getting to the bathroom was a chore that required a lot of wall support. but then i think about them and how they haven't seen me in two days. i think about how he needs me...

and i realize its that rationale that got me in this position in the first place. choosing the needs of other ahead of the needs of myself. its a small thing, a small thing that once turned into a big thing. does making the choice of me over him/them make me selfish? or does it show i've learned from my mistakes? had this been last year at this time, i would rush over to be there and do whatever needs to get done. i wouldn't be listening to my body when it tells me "REST!!!!!!" I would just be listening to my heart, telling me how much i miss them. and i would go.

so today my choice is to take the rest i need. return to them at full strength, ready, willing and able to be great for them.

Letting go

This afternoon i awoke in a strange place. a place not my home or my own but felt comfortable.
Yesterday I was crushed by the last person I expected. Was is deserved, I don't know anymore. I'd question my actions and his motives but when all is said and done, there is nothing more to be said. No more words to say. The relationship has been over for quite some time, we both just too weak with hope to admit it to ourselves. Too afraid to be alone to admit it to one another, only to find ourselves alone anyway. Now I face the decision I've been avoiding for years. Do we split up our children or jut all the beans into one pot.  He's an excellent father, bipolar tendencies aside he's also one of the best men I've ever loved. i just never given myself the opportunity to admit that one day it was destined to end between us because as good as we are alone, together we are toxic. It's a fact. Not a fantasy that I choose to believe. The past is full of evidence, I just wouldn't hear the case. uop't face the truth that holding on, only made the ropes fray faster. Until eventually you're forced to let go. The problem, we didn't fall back into love, we fell face first into insecurities and pain. In pain we reside. In silence we lived. In stress, hardship, and faith we continued on ignoring the signs.
but now is not time to wonder or to cry over spilt milk. Now it's time to make a plan, stick to it, and learn to live again. Without the restraints of one another. Without worry so much of what we've lost. Toni Morrison once said that the inability to let go of things, whether they be physical, mental or emotional, is a demonstration of a lack of faith. When we can let go, we make room for the blessings to come into our lives. Today I let go, of the past, the feelings that reside there, the dreams of yesterday, the disappointments, the expectations, and even the possessions of it. It is all gone and forgotten so I can remember that I deserve better in the future. I deserve to be better in the future. I deserve to give better in the future. And in the present I can be satisfied with the work I am doing to accomplish those things.