You’re legacy is whatever your decisions,choices and paths you decided to take. You can leave behind a great legacy or a disaster in your wake. The one thing I always wanted was to leave a trail of fire in my wake, not a blaze of destruction but a blaze of powerful influence. Like all things in life, you can use your gifts for good, or you can use your gifts for bad. Facing my own mortality and thinking about the future is both enlightening and frightening.
Right now, my fears in their own way have come out of their closet. I’m battling my own health issues and thing not to let them hold me down. I’ve decided to bask in my own sadness for a moment before I pick myself right back up. I never discourage people to not feel what they feel. Bask in your emotions good or bad because they are yours. There are no right feelings to feel when shit goes south, when you get bad news. The only bad reaction is to not bounce back. You have to. There’s no other choice but to stop crying eventually and keep fighting to see another day.
Today I got news that made me realize that the fire that I storm everything in my life with is fully ablaze. It was the most powerful news for me that I could get. You see, somewhere that I thought I was never appreciated, it turns out that my hard work and due dilligence paid off. I was used as an example. The fact is that I work damned hard to make sure I’m the best at everything that I do. If I plow shit for a living I’m going to be the best damned shit plowed that ever was.
The notification that I got today lifted my spirits from the depths of despair that I was living with fear and worry about my health. It made me once again remember that I’m going to law school. I’m going to ignite an even bigger blaze in my path before my candle blows out in the wind.
I have a six year old. I’ve raised her thus far to think little girls are not grown women. As she gets older she will earn the right to do more things like paint her nails, go out etc. At 6, she’s not ready to hit the club like it’s her birthday as best sung by good ol 50 cent. One day though she will be, but hopefully by that time I have prepared her as well as I can for life.
Shopping for girls these days is hard. The fashions are outrageous. I once saw a tube top that doubled as a mini skirt. I mean am I dressing a future baby prostitute or a child? It’s sick. I dress my daughter as age appropriate as I can, as fashion forward as I can without trying to turn her into a self obsessed monster. So imagine the difficulty in finding age appropriate shows.
She’s 6 but bores of cartoons. She’s an uber smart (to smart for her own good) kid. So although the screen shows tv shows with a G rating which are hypothetically for the general audience, I’ve found one massive reoccurring theme. Boy crazy girls that are just obsessed with boys. Okay, obviously kids grow up and start to eventually notice the opposite sex. But why are shows aimed at the general consensus of just showing boy thirsty girls? I take issues with that. Is that all we can teach girls? Granted, teaching starts at home but you can’t deny the outside influences are like subliminal Devils. Where else are girls younger and younger developing body image issues from? Instagram? Where everyone takes photos like their waiting to film their next debut with Brad Pitt. Social media. Magazines. Tv shows. This all plays a part.
People like to argue that it’s a parents fault or problem to screen and monitor their children. I agree but to a degree. I can’t raise my daughter in a bubble. There has to be some sort of accountability about what we show kids, what we put forth. How about a show about a girl who’s an A student who invents the cure for some formerly incurable disease or a show about the first girl ground breaking scientist who’s also a teenager like Dougie Howser who was a doctor at like 13? We need more shows about women and girls shattering those glass ceilings than incorporating all the dumb shit that at the end matters so minutely.
I couldn’t sleep. I woke up at 1:00 am and my mind was racing. I’m not sure what to call him. I suppose after 7 years together there should be a more defined role or title except I don’t feel it. It would be a bold faced lie to say it’s my significant other. I have an engagement ring that lines my jewelery box. I’ve always been a free spirit. The ability to walk away from relationships and bad situations. Except for this nightmare.
In my 20’s I thought it was crazy for women to stay in bad situations. Especially when they had children. Then I had my daughter. Something become clear. The fact that my poor decision would now affect her entire life and I had to live with that. The weight of that was like atlas carrying the world on his shoulder. So I stayed. Knowing one day I’d take my passport and my shit let my daughter know I’m out. Catch me in Europe. I’d served my time. The irony between my plan and my own mothers disappearance does not elude me.
Last night I couldn’t sleep. My “partner” told me my dad fell out of the car when he was getting out for dialysis. He couldn’t get up. My stomach dropped. The stress has magnified. The pressure intensified. That coupled with a lunatic that you have to walk on egg shells with are the recipe for a stroke or a heart attack. I’ve never met a person I couldn’t speak with. I deal with difficult high strung professionals and even then, nasty or not I can communicate. I can peg them. I can asses who I’m dealing with and how to deal with them.
I’ve never been in a situation where I couldn’t express myself. Where it’s like North Korea. You can’t express anything outside of the designated permitted forms of expression. Trust me, I am expressive. The moral is that the anx I felt came from knowing my dad fell and he didn’t want me to know. My limited ability to be everywhere, and the argument that ensued with this so called partner. The partner proceeded to spout how this was his fucking apartment and he didn’t want a nurse here until it’s spic and span. The problem is he has shit all over the place. But in his eyes this is not a problem. When you deal with someone who’s issues are everyone else’s except his own, where everything is someone’s fault but their own, there is no winning.
I take great issue with people who have a need to try to exert their power. In my eyes, they’re weak. If you need to hold power over someone who can’t or just because, know that you are weak. A strong and powerful person doesn’t need to exert power over anyone. People will do your will because they respect you and you command so. Not out of force like a dictatorship where it’s done out of fear. Fear is the seed of resentment, after resentment anger grows. There’s a phrase I say all the time that I stand by. “Those who need to control are they themselves out of control.” That’s what I’m dealing with. A cyclone of a personality and my life.
I’m not complaining by any means. I’m simply acknowledging what I know and that’s the similarity between myself and my mothers decision to one day pack her shit and leave. Except one massive difference. My father was not a bad person in his entirety. He made poor decisions but I chalk that up to a lack of education. But he took care of us, made sure we lacked nothing. As strong as his personality was, I know he loved me. That his intent was never to hurt me. That’s the defining difference. The difference is that I’m genuine. This partner is selfish. He does everything for the added bonus. Oh here let me help you with this, so later I can hold it over your head. Sure if you need my help now you can’t say anything to me. Here’s a 100 bucks but when I need you there’s no out. And that to me is disgusting…
Somewhere along the road I’ve lost the basics. I lost the very essence that makes me shine. I’ve lost the light. I’ve battled in the dark for a long time. The darkness is a source of comfort. I like it there. Being in the light is difficult. Being empathetic is hard sometimes. Being tolerant of ignorance is hard sometimes. But most of all it’s harder to fake it till you make it. So this morning I sought out a photo I wanted one where through the windows of my soul I couldn’t see the torment. I wanted one photo where I could set my sights on simply going back to the basics.
I told a friend of mine the other day, that I don’t care what anyone says. Life chips at you. Eventually the pain, the trauma, the sadness cuts so deep that it changes you. Whether it jades your view, makes you tougher less sensitive to things, you change period. For myself I have changed. I’ve come to loathe people. I’ve become unsympathetic, insensitive and just cold and antisocial. I think these traits were always there. However, somehow I’ve become the poster child for ruthlessness. You can’t un-know things. You simply can’t. So if you’ve learned pain, you can’t take that back. You move on from it, you grow but it will always be there hidden in the corners, like a monster hiding from the light, straying into the shadowy corners.
I think this is what makes me read others fairly well. I recognize the broken, the wounded, the damaged, the evil. Because I’ve seen it facing the mirror myself. I don’t consider myself evil but I can be. I can be unrelentingly evil and vile and not feel remorse. I try to force myself to feel it and I can’t. I say it but the words are empty. Meaningless. I just want to try to get to the basics..
My first inclination is to run. Break out into a full on sprint, music blasting while the sidewalk pounds the soles of my feet. I’m far from conventional by any means. People say that but I mean it. My emotionless state is what makes my life so easy to deal with. If I sat there and drowned myself in emotions, I would be a hot emotional mess. So I opt to shut it down reign it in and as I tell myself suck it up buttercup. I’ve had many challenges. I’ve always surpassed them.
My fathers health is ailing and a lot of it is a result of his own doing. This doesn’t make it any easier although my strength and resilience make it seem as though it is that simple.
What I didn’t know when I wrote the paragraph above is that my dad would flatline and come back. That I would realize a hospital to be a place of a lot of sadness for those who are ailing or passing, some hope for those who are saved and some joy for those that are born.
I couldn’t do what they do on a daily basis. I couldn’t stare death in the face every single day. It’s not that I fear death necessarily it’s that I want to live. In the face of mortality I pale. I pale at the thought of what I hope to do, what I want to do and what I haven’t done. I think of death like the times I’ve had surgery. Where they give you an anesthetic lights out.. not here nor there just out…
And I don’t want to be out..
I love to laugh. I am a ridiculous sarcastic fool and am always laughing or making others laugh. So this morning I woke up and decided what a better way to get through today then by having lunch with people I love and like. At work, I am blessed to be surrounded by a good circle of people. That doesn’t happen very often but I’m glad I have it. So today, we went had some amazing Thai food and picked up some amazing devil’s food cake from Amy’s bread in Midtown. It won’t fix all of the world or all of the problems. But you know what, it damn well helped my spirits. Love, optimism, and laughter are a great recipe for uplifting your spirits. So right now, I think we all need some uplifting and love. I leave you with some of these amazing quotes:
I was in the shower this morning thinking about last night. I say what I mean do what I say. My relationship with my daughters father disintegrated a long time ago. You can’t hurt someone, do shit and think that it has absolutely no ramifications. I keep a tally. Just because I’m here doesn’t mean we’re okay. Much like my blog about toxic relationships this was exactly what it was about.
I’ve told him a number of times that I hate him and meant it. I’ve wished him ill and meant it. He’s done things that there is no coming back from. I’ve stayed as long as I have because of my daughter, the irony is i know I have to leave because of her too. This mornings realization was that my relationship is like a friend that picks you up for a ride then drives you straight into a wall. They don’t apologize do something nice and then do this again and again. They think that they are redeemed by doing something nice after they’ve driven you straight into a wall time and time again until you say fuck that I’m not going for a ride anymore and then they get mad at you for it. The only unconditional love I know is for my daughter. If that exists in relationships feel free and let me know.
I don’t think you should feel dread before you get home, I don’t think that you should feel peace when your supposed other half is not around. You should feel excited or at least happy to be able to share your day with your other half. Communication should not be like speaking two different languages. My life is easy when he is not around, that’s a tragedy. Because how can I miss someone that complicates my life and not in a positive way? It’s simple you can’t. Especially when the person causing the strife doesn’t feel like they need to change. When they think they’re the table but instead they’re the stoppers on the table. Either way I’m on the way to work blasting happy Pharrell. Happiness is a choice and I choose to be happy this morning.