Explained to my mother my plan for the coming months.
Picked out the two classes that I feel would fit my work schedule, if only my boss accepts them. I think he will.
Looking at apartments near C's place.
It really sunk in, why I was doing what I was doing, when my mother mentioned that she had to go and wrap Christmas presents. That my father was asking her when we were going to have Christmas.
You know, since we skipped it and all.
The mere thought of returning home, seeing him, talking to him, sent me into more panic than the idea of moving out on my own.
I needed that. He finally pushed me off the deep end, where my anxiety regarding being on my own is outweighed by my fear of his instability.
My mother is concerned that I won't emotionally handle it on my own. That my depression and anxiety will get the best of me.
Maybe.
Probably not.
Too social now, too many people wanting to go out, be out.
Finally discovered where the money for my schooling is supposed to come from: my own life insurance policy, that I have to set up with my father.
I don't even want to talk to him. Possibly for the rest of the coming year. He corrodes me. Mom was trying to cajole me into calling him, talking to him, setting up an appointment with him to fill out all the paperwork, act interested in a process, let him lecture me for hours.
I can't even stand to be in his presence for fifteen minutes, much less let him invade my life even further on a financial level for several hours, tying me to him even tighter. Total terror.
When am I going to be able to face him again? When will this heal?
Will it ever heal?
Was this it? Was this last week the final blow to my shielding, the cracking vibrations shattering deep within me, where love, loyalty, devotion, and fear are suddenly overridden by the need to live, to be healthy?
I wonder what it would be like to be able to have normal sex with someone and be able to actually get into it. Actually let go. Relax. Stop thinking. Normal sex. Regular, everyday sex. No pain, no brutalization, no rape scenes, no domination.
The only things that make me stop thinking for even a moment.
Except for GV8. Making love with someone for the first time in my life.
God, I'm wrecked.
How far will I have to go to be whole and healthy? Have I ever been whole and healthy? Would I even recognize it?
About Me
- Poetry of Flesh
- Los Angeles, CA, United States
- Love Sonnet XI
Pablo Neruda
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me,
all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
Maybe your friend is right taking it slow with school, one class a semester for a while. Focusing on finding an apartment. You need a place that's yours, and you deserve it too. You will be able to pour yourself into school much more when you're safe.
ReplyDeleteThe need to live, to be healthy...these are your rights as a human being. It may have taken a hard road to find them, but it seems you're on your way to claiming them.
You're in my thoughts.
Sounds like it's been an unpredictable few days. If such things were going on in my life, I wouldn't want to talk to my father either. From my perspective, any fear, uncertainty, and anxiety is as normal and healty a reaction as you can get.
ReplyDeleteAnd for what it's worth, I don't think you ARE broken.
There seems to be this idea in our culture that there are things wrong with people and they need to be 'fixed.'
I don't see it that way--at least not in my better moments.
You were dealt a hand. You adapted as best you could given the way you understood the world.
Now those adaptations aren't working. That doesn't make them bad. It just means circumstances have changed. You want something different for yourself.
You are a survivor. You will be fine. Maybe you already are--whether you realize it consciously or not.
Hannah,
ReplyDeleteI never thought of it that way, and the words have stuck with me. A right to try for healthiness and happiness. To fight for them.
Dan,
You're right. I was being incredibly hard on myself. I reacted in an expected way.
And, yes, I developed adaptions based on my life, on my father, on surviving. And now I need to find ones that work for who I want to be and implement them past all the fears.
I'm working on being fine. Let's see how that goes.