I just met up with two friends who have been rocks in my life since high school. We've been through a lot together and have had some epic moments. My 20's wouldn't have been the same without them.
After almost a year of not seeing them we met up for dinner yesterday to catch up and I was shocked how much I've missed in their lives and how much they've grown.
From having no girlfriends 2 years ago, one of them is engaged to be married next year. The other just bought a condo with his girlfriend and is planning a destination wedding in Tokyo
That was me 3 years ago - engaged, had a house and most importantly, my life was stable. Now? Boyfriend shot down moving in together, mother still driving herself crazy over my sleaze bag father and siblings totally inundated with the pressures of social conformity.
How did things get this way?
The fact that I once had those things, things that most people would strive to have, makes their absence that much more jarring, painful even. I would have been unhappy with with my ex so I stand by my decision to leave him, but sometimes, especially today, I think my life is just one big karmic joke. That the universe is telling me I should have sucked it up and stayed and is using the people around me as a constant reminder of my decision years ago. Knot tying baby popping reminders.
I feel like I'm hanging on to the end of a pendulum, swinging radically between the rhythmical highs and lows. Maybe one day it'll stop or at least slow down so I can catch my breath. It's not going to be soon enough
Its hard being a single mother. Its an impossible life trying to juggle work and raise three kids your own.
They say time heals all wounds but I think some will always stay open. There are some wounds that no amount of stitches can ever fully mend. You skin can never be as pristine and unscathed as it once was. Even healed, scars remind us of our past. If you can move past the hurt and suffering, you may one day be able to look at your scars and proudly say 'look what I've endured, these are my battle scars - I've survived'. If you can't, well then...
My mother was a strong willed albeit dependent woman when she was married to my father. She ran the house well - we always had food, we had lots of extra-curriculars to keep us busy, we were taken care of in every way possible way. At least in every way a 10 year old needs to be.
And then the divorce
To this day I'm still not sure what exactly happened that brought them to that bitter cross road. I think we're all better off that it happened but I know that even after 20+ years my mom is not the person she used to be.
What a weird reversal of roles I've experienced. I've become the provider for my little brother, sister and my mom. My three naïve children.
None of them get along. I'm the moderator, voice of reason, shoulder to cry on, perpetual scape goat even, if you can fathom that..the list goes on.
My little brother, fresh out of university is broke as shit but still manages to scrape up money from god knows where to get high n fuck all sorts of crazy bitches. More than once some crazy chicks be a bangin at our door. More than once I've had to call all his dirt bag friends to figure out which dive he's passed out at and take him home. He resents and disrespects me. His misogyny doesn't help that fact. There's no preaching to the degenerate youth. I've conceded to let him make his mistakes. Big man, talk that talk
My little sister, working minimally is still trying to figure out what she wants to do with her life.She spends all her money on designer hand bags, an expensive car, her good for nothing boy friend. The lifestyle she so desperately tries to live so that she can keep up with the Joneses pushes her into a desperate spiral of self loathing. She thinks shes better than everyone else but yet hates herself. She's fake, unrealistic and uncomprehensibly selfish. God gave her a nice face/body package too so throw in some ego and a short fuse to that mix too. Vanity in all aspects of the word consumes her.
My mom, unemployed tries to keep busy with her friends and mundane classes she joins at the local rec. That would be great and all if she could find it in herself to stop clinging on to my dog of a father who could care less how any of us are doing. She works on cycles. She has a good month, then the moping, weeping and sad self deprecating pleas for attention. 'Oh nobody has it as bad as your mother, nobody's life is as sorry as your mothers'. Really? I can name plenty. As if the thing I really need aside from the drunken late night pickups and passive aggressive spats is a self loathing, whiney mother figure to complete the trifecta.
Its hard being a single mother. How do people do it..
i need an outlet. i need somewhere i can vent my feelings without incurring the snickers and sneers that facebook and twitter would.
so here i am, trying to figure out this xanga thingamajiggy. totally unbeknownst to all my friends, totally annonymous. i like the feeling of not being judged (yet), not being scrutinized for letting loose what i really feel. not getting any backlash from the absolutely crazy people i call family and friends. hopefully it stays that way. anonymous. freeing.
Sticks and stones will break your bones but words can never hurt you.
lets analyze shall we.
'sticks and stones will break your bones...'
lets take this back to the most primal neanderthal interpretation of the phrase. our cave dwelling strong jawed ancestors figured out how to use sticks n stones no problem. sticks and stones will fuckin break your bones. or, lets say your dinners bones.
'...but words can never hurt you'
and when our ancestors figured out how to turn their primal utterances into cohesive, structured, spoken word, they found new and increasingly creative ways to hurt eachother with words.
and here we are.
we're fuckin masters of causing one another pain. physical pain, thats easy. natural even. anyone can pick up a knife or a gun and use it. its our most primal survival instinct at work. emotional pain, anyone can call you a bitch or a cunt and get in your head. we're so fragile, impressionable. its like bruising a peach.
and if life has taught me anything, its that it'll kick you while you're down. as if sticks arent enough, imma throw a fucking boulder atcha.