Sometimes I get in a phase in life where I think everything is good, life is great and I don’t think about where I came from and what I came from and I can see great things in the future.
Inevitably, I open my mouth, I leave out a detail or I forget about something important – completely by accident and throw myself right back into the fire pits of the past. The hell that makes me think the wrong way and expect the worst of everyone. The reminder of an upbringing nowhere near normal.
What I’m saying is, the child ain’t right. The child being me. So many of you grew up with mothers that loved you, that you could run to and feel safe. What a feeling that must be, one that I cannot imagine on my best day. I have to mimic others to appear normal, I’ve developed this as quite a skill, tho I carry a doubt within me that prevails and gets stronger every time I stumble. A growing boil within my insides that swallows up confidence and reminds me that my roots are never far behind me – that it wouldn’t take much to be back there.
I say I don’t dream because I like to forget them – and I certainly try not to commit them to memory but the recurring ones are the worst, they force me to remember. Where she is screaming and laughing at me and telling me she was right all along. That I really am stupid and reminding me of the foolishness of dreams.
She haunts me. Yesterday I opened my mouth and inserted my foot, up to the damned knee. I won’t go in to detail but the scary thing is that this is happening more and more lately. I find myself challenging the people that mean the most to me, and I can’t quite figure out where I’ve slipped and let that part of me through. Maybe I’m getting comfortable, thus getting lax? Scary thought.
A friend told me once that she’d learned in psychology that in order to “break the cycle of abuse” (such a stupid label I only use for familiarity), you have to constantly think about your actions, your temper, the way you think, constantly keeping yourself on point.
Since that time I’ve tried to do exactly that, I don’t succeed at it much and “I’m sorry” are words that roll off my tongue readily but if humility is redeeming, then I redeem myself a lot and save my own ass with it, else I don’t know how people stand me.
I’m feeling like the loser I was born to be – maybe it’s not such a bad thing, eh? I like to claim that I’m a realist…