Christmas is like a mass rape. In the name of God, like most violence. You can't escape it, it's forced upon you. Try to put on a pleasant face, it's not that bad. And, just in case you're not religious or not particularly into traditions, here's something else for you: it's for the children! Now bring out the presents!
Illuminated Fragments
Woke up in the middle of the night and watched anxiety take over me. All I wanted in that moment was to cuddle up to my baby and fall into sweet sleep. But my body felt different, and I couldn't shake it off - as if grey static bolts were chaotically sweeping through me, with no option for control. In the morning I realized that even in sleep I am stressed. This has been going on for some years now. And it's only getting worse.
Every girl needs to feel protected in life - first by her father, then brother, then husband, then son. I've chosen different in this life: the biological male specimen gave me up, and my father raised me up to be a good human; only as an adult am I deciphering my parents' love in all the different forms they've surrounded me with. Every relationship I've thrown myself in gave no protection. Moreover, I was not raised religious nor spiritual. In other words, I have never had anyone to count on. And so I drank heavily to mask up the stress, swim in wine, beget other feelings. Like bravery. Or stupidity. Until one day I met someone with whom there was nothing. Just space. No stress, no protection, no worries, just space. I thought I found a path. I mean, wine and cigarettes and non-stop partying were no longer needed. My mind was clear, my heart was open. So I went into the real world, by myself, unprotected. Because the Universe will never drop you. And then I fell apart.
I've been looking for pieces, perfecting the ones I already have, polishing the others that I find. Quite literally I am in the process of rebuilding myself as me. It's a frustratingly difficult task. Thankfully last night I realized the proportion of my stress. What do I do with it? Pass it onto my children, and everyone who dares to come close. As a woman, who by default has certain powers, I ended up manipulating people through that stress. What is this weight? Not trusting. I thought I did - "the Universe won't drop you!" - I kept saying. But now I see... Can I let go and fall into my partner's arms with trust? Can I open my heart again to the world, and trust that I won't fall apart once more before I even put myself together? ...don't know.
Every girl needs to feel protected in life - first by her father, then brother, then husband, then son. I've chosen different in this life: the biological male specimen gave me up, and my father raised me up to be a good human; only as an adult am I deciphering my parents' love in all the different forms they've surrounded me with. Every relationship I've thrown myself in gave no protection. Moreover, I was not raised religious nor spiritual. In other words, I have never had anyone to count on. And so I drank heavily to mask up the stress, swim in wine, beget other feelings. Like bravery. Or stupidity. Until one day I met someone with whom there was nothing. Just space. No stress, no protection, no worries, just space. I thought I found a path. I mean, wine and cigarettes and non-stop partying were no longer needed. My mind was clear, my heart was open. So I went into the real world, by myself, unprotected. Because the Universe will never drop you. And then I fell apart.
I've been looking for pieces, perfecting the ones I already have, polishing the others that I find. Quite literally I am in the process of rebuilding myself as me. It's a frustratingly difficult task. Thankfully last night I realized the proportion of my stress. What do I do with it? Pass it onto my children, and everyone who dares to come close. As a woman, who by default has certain powers, I ended up manipulating people through that stress. What is this weight? Not trusting. I thought I did - "the Universe won't drop you!" - I kept saying. But now I see... Can I let go and fall into my partner's arms with trust? Can I open my heart again to the world, and trust that I won't fall apart once more before I even put myself together? ...don't know.
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Mosaic girl by lalylaura |
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