i'll be 32 in a few days. i'm not quite sure why this is so important. maybe it's because for the first time i really feel like ME. i'm speaking my mind more, i'm being creative, i'm kind of a grown up all settled into my house now and working and making healthy decisions. i'm starting to worry less about other people and worry more about myself and my family. i'm trying to learn to like myself in a true and honest way. it's a LOT going on all at once, but i'm not too overwhelmed by it or intimidated by it. welcome to growing up i guess.
i'm not going to sit here and shit cotton candy. it's still fucking hard. i'm in the middle of yet another new change- i'll no longer be in the coffee world. this week will be my last week delivering and stocking around town. i hate to leave, but back to that grown up healthy choice thing, it wasn't what was best for the kids and me right now, so i'll be heading back to more secretarial work that will be steadier and better for us. NO. i'm not giving up. i'm just saying something else is better for now. and that's ok. there's still plenty of opportunities to go back to it, keep up with it on the side, dabble here and there. but my main focus needs to be doing what's best for the spawns, and so i'm doing that.
i'm still dealing with a teenager that scares the shit out of me more days than not. and the scariest part is i have no idea what to do or how to fix it. i'm just treading water the best i can. he keeps pushing, i keep pushing back. i'm sure as fuck not going to let him push over and walk over me. i do slip. i do let things go that i shouldn't. thankfully as of late i have a good circle of people that are catching this and filling in the blanks when i'm not. when he's disrespectful to me and i'm too tired to fight it they've been coming along side and pointing it out to him and calling him on it for me. it's always a challenge i guess. being a parent isn't for sissies. especially when you're trying to do it right. he's pushing boundaries and trying to become his own person. i'm trying to let him do that but still keep him inside the invisible fence. the newest trick is trying to TELL me where and when he's going places. "i'm going to the store to get a soda mom." umm...i don't hear any permission asked in there...that's odd. another day, another challenge. back to school- we'll see how it goes in his circle of friends.
the little one is on the level for now but balancing on the brink. i know back to school has him rattled. it will be a fight for a few weeks- the new friends, getting into the schedule again, all the nerves and changes. i've caught pieces of it here and there the last few days. abnormally clingy, small behaviour changes that other people think i'm crazy for noticing. add in the crazy chubby face of impending growth spurt- the next month should be an interesting ride.
in the middle of all this i've been- well. i've been battling. the two year marker of losing my dad was rough. i made it through, but it's been rough. i find myself talking about him and my baby brother more the last few weeks than i have in months. maybe it's because everything i do is in twos. i decided a few days ago to clean off the table in the dining room. i had a small side table with both their ashes, the flag, letters, commendations from my fathers service. my brother's art work and other memorabilia. i took my time cleaning it all and tucking it away. not all of it. but enough of it to make a small shift and start moving on a little bit. it was hard. i cried. the strange thing is that the objects i put away- the flag, the letters, the plaques- they weren't my dad. they were all things that came along after he passed. they weren't the pieces that held him to me. that made it easier to put them away. the pieces of him- his badge, his ashes- those are still out. those won't ever be tucked away completely. maybe in a shadow box in the office sometime in the future, but never away. same with steve. his art work and ashes are still out. i still think of him.
the topic of suicide has come up quite a bit lately (not me, don't get your panties in a twist. i'm good on that front). i've heard more and more people talking about it. quite frankly, it pisses me off. i love steve. i still do. and i completely and totally understand why he made the decision he did. IT DOES NOT MAKE IT THE RIGHT ONE. the kid had a hard hand though. ptsd, severe brain trauma, physical rehab, bankruptcy, shattered personal relationships, crazy family stress, just a whole stack against him. was it anything he couldn't over come? no. there's always another answer. but i get it.
so then i see people bandy about the suicide word for tivial shit- "oh, i had problems with a boy", "oh, not enough people are paying attention to me" i'm sure their problems are just as tragic to them, but no where near the MOUNTAIN of shit steve was facing. and it still wasn't the right answer for him. and it makes me so angry. and YES, i've been in that corner. i've been open about all that before. i've had my back against the wall. i've had the mountain of shit staring me down. i'm the lucky one that's too crazy to make the wrong choice- the dishes needed finished first, i couldn't go out with a dirty bathroom for someone else to clean up, there was a stack of papers at work i hadn't finished- the BIG one- who the fuck could i ever trust to raise my kids MY way? no way in fuck could i ever go through with something, but yes, i've been in that corner staring down that demon. i know how hard it is. i guess there's just a difference to me between REAL shit happening all around you, physical, tangible things happening and emotional shit. one isn't any worse than the other i suppose. i just don't understand the other one. then again, i've never been good at the emotional crap and understanding other people. i'm too logical i guess. or perhaps just too much of a cold hearted bitch.
and i guess it just makes me irrationally angry that when people bandy the word about for trivial things it cheapens what steve did. and i know that probably doesn't make any sense to anyone but me. and the real bare bones truth of it is- when i hear people bandy that fucking word about it makes me remember that he made that choice. that i lost him to that dark corner and i can never have him back. and i know what that feels like. and it makes me so angry to think of other people doing that to the ones they'd leave behind. my birthday is in a few days. his would have been another week or so after that. he would have been 30 this year. and i miss him. and i miss my dad. and it's fucking hell sitting here in the middle of the night typing this shit.
i miss having a family. i'm still angry that- well, more things than i can cram into a stupid blog.
huh. well that took a turn for the interesting. no wonder i couldn't sleep with all that rattling around up in the old noodle.
hold please while i calm the fuck down.
anyway. there's a lot of changes in the next few weeks. ages, schedules, work paths, school. the official launch of the magazine is right around the corner- i'm officially the editor now instead of simply an occasional contributing writer. still in a whirlwind about how that happened. i'm actually excited to see how things go, not terrified for the first time in a long time. i'm ready to see what's next. i'm feeling like a real, grown up together person. probably won't last long, but it's a curious experience none the less. i'm ok with who i am and the choices that have brought me here. i'm confident being a touchstone for other people, i'm confident being an example for the first time in a long time. i'm working on being confident as a parent- damn teenagers have a way of rocking that boat. can't even pretend to be a duck with that one either- calm on the surface, paddling like hell underneath- not around here. it's just a whole flurry of crazy when that boat rocks too far. we're learning together i guess. i'm learning to be a confident (body, mind, self image) woman. that one is taking time. i'm confident as a writer. i'm confident as a worker.
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