The Paper form of Me… Its inhibiting…

Do you ever just sit and think I am capable but yet you don’t move. It’s inhibiting, fear, its very inhibiting. I feel that I have these opportunities, these moments where I can be good even great but the thought, the fears keep me compliant in settling; in mediocre.

I want to be more, do more, but I have these plans, goalsexcuses? When did planning become such an excuse for me to leap, to jump and explore the unknown depths of my potential. When did fear lead such a big part of my decision making process. When did I become so anal about following through exactly how the plan goes.

It’s just a theory, but maybe it’s because I have adjusted my plans over and over again and now I am just determined to follow through even when the end goal is just a goal to have. I tell myself over and over again, when I am done that is when everything will fall into place, when school is finally over, when my goal is met. I will be done. I will be ready to jump…but whose to say those opportunities will still be there…

New opportunities, what if there are none?  What should I do. Where do I find security. I need that security. I need it.


The fear is not the leap, well it is partially the leap into something new, different, exciting… but I see now after putting it in words. The fear embedded within my mind is the loss of security.

I’ve work so hard, come so far just to loss it all. What if I make this leap, what if it was a wrong leap and I am left with no back up plan, no source of security. I’ll fall back on nothing, then what. Move back in with mom, start over. I can’t do that, I refuse to move backwards.

What if I’m not ready to leap, is anyone ever ready?


The Paper Form of me: The Conflict Within

Over the last 6 years I have changed. I noticed the change as soon as it began and I never once thought to stop it. Change is suppose to be growth but I think my change has somehow transformed from growth in my character, growth in my experiences to growth in a wall that cannot be penetrated. My moods are up and down and I make excuses to why I am unhappy; its only for the moment, I tell myself to ease the thought of reality setting in that I may truly be miserable for the rest of my days and I am unbearable to myself. I am a delight for others but then I am a delight for me. How confusing. I am all jumbled up, my insides hurt physically and my brain hurts psychologically and the rest of me hurts emotionally. I am cold inside with a bit of warmth, most people are warm inside with a dash of darkness.

I sleep yet I wake restless. I eat but I am never full. I laugh but its only temporary. I thought I was always a positive person, I tell people to smile more and be more optimistic but I can admit, I am the biggest hypocrite.

You see… I have always loved my mother, I know for a fact that I’d do anything for her, but I think I’ve loved my father on a rotation. Most days he’s tolerable, no that is a lie. Most days if he calls I am annoyed by just the name that pops up on my screen. I do not answer and I do not feel obligated to. It sounds cold but there’s history here.

Cliff notes version, my parents separated when I was 8 years old. He came around until I was about 11 or 12 years old. After that I didn’t hear from him until I was about 18 or 19 years old. When I was old enough to work and buy my own things. Again I went another 2 or 3 years before hearing from him again and throughout this time, mind you I loved my father still. I forgave him for his absents. It wasn’t until recently that I began to feel nonchalant about his presences. It had to be about 5 years ago when I really started to feel his presences; weekly calls, giving me money for school, and just wanting to see me. At first it was fine but that was cause he lived over 2 hours away and I wouldn’t have to see him but once a year. He then became ill and in and out of the hospital. Now he wants to see me every waking moment but you see if you haven’t already noticed from previous post, I lost my brother.

I lost my brother who was living with my father, hustling. My father, the one who showed him that life. Now that I am older I am beginning to resent my father more and more. My sister, his other daughter does not even speak to him anymore. For more than 8 years now. She’s lucky she cut ties. Me I feel like I am being played and I don’ t like it. Where was he on my sick days, my school performances, when we needed clothes for school and lunch money and books. I feel like it’s to late for him to play daddy. I am too nice to cut ties completely but I feel no emotions for him as I sit and look at him. He suffers and I feel bad about it but there is nothing I can do for his illness is his own burden. I love my father in a limited kind of way and sometimes I think the unthinkable. When I do I try to erase the thought from my mind and start to feel guilty. But do I feel guilty because the unthinkable is so horrible or do I feel guilty because in a way I don’t care.

See, the confusion. Stuck between being raised to be a better person a good person that loves and cares passionately to someone whose heart is so guarded that even sympathy for ones own ill father is hard to come by. How am I suppose to feel, How am I suppose to react.

I can take care of litigation with no emotion on my face but is that because I really have no emotions or is it the wall. How do I know what I really feel. Will I be sad, I know I am not dark enough to be happy. I’d never wish death to others. But that just leaves me all confused again. How did I become this person. How did this happen to me. My mother blames my father for the death of my brother… is it bad that I am beginning to too?

The paper form of me… Dreams

I walk almost zombie like through my days but at night is where the action is. At least in my head. I had vivid dreams that seem to give me messages, unfortunately those messages were no where close to as vivid as the faces.

I dreamed that my car had an issue, an easy fix a flat tire. I dreamed you were walking up the drive way to assist me. You told me how to change it and helped me do it then as quickly as you came you were gone. It felt familiar, like the time where you came to my rescue when I was stranded on the side of Holden rd. Or even the time my car wouldn’t start in our own drive way. The dream was so familiar.

I dreamed that there were clocks. Every kind you can think of, grandfather clocks that were big and extravagant, and some that were small and simple. Clocks that were round, some hung on the walls and some sat on the ground. There was an alarm that was going of, or a clock that was screeching. I heard it loud but I didn’t know from which one. I and Mr. Boo were searching, looking for where the loud obnoxious sound was coming from. I became small and light and I jumped and I leaped from the tops of these grandfather clocks and I hit them on the head to get the alarm to stop. Nothing, it didn’t work, it didn’t stop but it did get loud and louder til we stood still and placed our ears to the clocks, to all the clocks and they were silent. How could this be, how could they all be silent, and still. So hollow but the alarm, it continued to grow until it became unbearable, and then I inhale and wake up in a cold sweat trying to catch me breath.

What could this mean, what could any of this mean. Am I running out of time? Am I wasting time looking for something that doesn’t exist?  Am I not giving myself time to morn my loss. Maybe time is catching up to me. Or maybe it means nothing. Dreams are not reality, they are not messages unless you believe in all that. I don’t know what I believe in any more. My faith has been tested and I feel like I’ve lost my way. Praying doesn’t feel like so peaceful anymore.

I hope I dream of more dreams that have your face, at least then I can tell you how much your presence, or the lack of your presences has effected me.

The paper form of me… When the going gets tough…

April is nearing its end and it feels like a flash. It’s true what they say, the older you get the faster time seems to fly. Can you believe that your son is 3? I know its still hard for me to accept the fact that he is no longer just a baby. Is it crazy that I talk to you like your actually here beside me, listening to every thought that I have. It is crazy that I talk to you more now then I have in the last year that I actually had you. I’m sorry. That is a burden that I will carry with me forever.

You would have been 33 this Saturday and its so hard for me right now, so unbearably hard, I don’t think you’ll ever understand just how hard. I hide it so well; I know that I do but not from you. I feel like you see me everyday but I know that you are not with me. I know you are with your son and I know you see him everyday. I know you play with him and you make yourself visible to him. Someday’s I wish I could still see you and tell you how sorry I am. I know your thinking “get yourself out of that pity party your throwing”, well maybe not in those exact words but I know you’d be telling me that I am strong and I got this but I don’t know if I do. I am losing it here. I think I am so tired all the time because holding up this facade is catching up to me.

The realization that I can only see you in your son is a reality I never thought I’d ever have to live. I love you, I hope you knew that before you were so abruptly taken from our world. Its tough these days. Life just keeps moving. I want to stand frozen for a minute just to take in all that is changing around me but I cant. I stop moving and I get left behind. How is that fair? Oh.. that’s right, no one ever said life was fair.

I heard a joke yesterday and thought “WOW”, but then it made sense… “if you want to hear God laugh, tell him about your plans”. Everything in life cannot be planned, plans get ruined daily. I don’t think God is laughing at us but I’ve heard that he doesn’t give us more than we can bare. Still it is a lot to bare.

Do you ever just sit and wonder, why. Why is it sunny, why can birds fly and we cant and why did this terrible thing happen to someone who was loved and loved others, why did this family that has had their fair share of struggles still have to struggle. WHY? You lose faith after a while. You lose it and you don’t know if it will come back because you sure could use a miracle.

It’s funny, when things get tough we pray for the strength to keep fighting, but if things are so tough we feel abandon in our time of need and lose the will to pray. Its a thin line that we walk each day that determines where we are going. One tough day to many could send us over. I don’t know how many more tough days this little heart can handle.

The paper form of me… The needed or the forgotten…?

Ah… its a new day and the sun is bright and the air is still cool… but spring, spring is here only in its spirit. There are no butterflies and sweet smelling flowers just the occasional cold breeze and the peaks of flowers blooming. That is now our version of spring.

With new days come new problems and new emotions that I can’t for the life of me even fake to care… not today. I feel a since of betrayal among those we consider “friends”. What does that even mean… google says its “a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual or family relations.”… From my personal experiences I just got a person…

Lets be serious who knows what a friend really is; are you friends by default when your families are close and you grow up together, or does the amount of time not matter, because a connection could form within hours of bonding. Personally,  I feel that a friend is someone you call on, you don’t speak to for days at a time but your bond only grows, you lift each other and you support one another, conclusions are not jumped and your children are raised by the hand of the village. But what do I know. I have no kids and I like being alone.

I’m at the point in my life where I am so over it. So over the listening and giving advise then looking stupid… I’m at that point in my life where I am like I wish I had someone one to hang with to I really do not care… I guess you could say I am in the forgotten area..

The gray area in life where you want to be included and remembered but secretly wished they’d forgotten to include you. My emotions take the best of me and now with one simple mistake I could wipe you from my existence… is that wrong?

I am not perfect, I am no prize so I have no room to judge and I should not prosecute but damn it if someone brings me pain once, I cut them off like they weren’t just a piece of my heart and watch as it disappears and I am left wondering… what have I done.

I am in the forgotten place, its where the quiet lives, where aspirations drown and dreams die. Have you heard the saying “stuck between a rock and a hard place” where either decision is horrible, well I am stuck between the forgotten and the light. I can choose to walk towards the light and say “hey friends” but I fee like my body is heavy and I just want to sleep forever.

Then there are days that I can skip into the light then get hit by a gust of BS and back into the forgotten place I go. But you what, I will eventually be free from this back and fourth madness that my mind keeps playing because at the end of the day I am who I am and when I am in a good place I’ll just stay.


The paper form of me… The quiet

Today it’s raining, it’s cold and its gray but it’s also quiet. I walk outside and I hear every drop of rain in a quiet kind of pattern, like one at a time, like where the world feels still and you just breathe in and let your lungs fill with the cold air. The world starts moving again and I am driving, literally. It’s Saturday and I am on my way to a job, just a job, nothing special.

On my short drive to work, it feels much longer. The rain hits the windshield and I’m left in the silence with only my thoughts and I become lost in my own world. I wonder where I am headed and why people are so negative. I simply don’t understand why the vibe is all wrong. I get irritated and I lose myself only to gain back my sanity with a side of regret. People just do not understand my mind, the way it works and how busy so so busy it stays.

Do I dare say what I think out loud and risk the repercussions just to feel some relief or do I hold it in and be kept in this box where the truth can only bring more conflict. I love you but your wrong… I love you but you cant… I love you that’s all. Seems like I’ve made my decision, without even thinking I stop communicating. I become mute and for all you know that is the end of my thought.

But it’s not. You see so much goes in but not a lot comes out. I watch and sometimes I slip up and become involved, what am I involved in. Nothing that is mine that’s for sure. I feel so off balance like my chi has been shifted and I am left defenseless. There is no sarcasm to cover, no jokes to hide it, I am bare and I cant cope, I regret. I know I said I’d never regret, I’d live for the moment, I’d give it my all. Only some of that is true. Only some of that is me and the rest, well the rest is to encourage you. I want you to be better, I want you to live it up and I want you most of all to never regret because if it’s one thing I know, its regret.

Never mind about that. The day is passing at a steady pace. I’m just sitting and typing all, well maybe not all, but some of my thoughts. I’m starting to feel slightly better, the tightening grip on my chest is lesser. Oh here it goes again the shifting in my memories from one pain to another right after the first has been sooth. It’s never ending and this inst even a busy day, just the beginning.

His smile, his sweet mischievous smile. Did you see it because I saw it and it gave me chills. He looks like my brother, his smile is the same, and the way he plays, its identical. It’s so identical it hurts. The older he gets, the more he begins to become the exact image of my brother. I love him so much it hurts… No, I love him but it hurts.

I cant help but stare, I’m such a creep. I just look as he walks and talks and plays. How could you hurt me, your only 2 and the sweetest little cutie I have ever seen. But you do and I know why. My pain is still here, its only been a few months. Living life knowing I’ve gone from 4 older siblings to 3 is something I will never recover from. I will always be broken but I continue to move forward. But moving forward sometimes feels like walking on broken glass. Someday’s I’d rather walk on broken glass then get out of bed. No one knows this pain, because no one will understand.

I am tired, no I am exhausted all the time, When you ask me how my day is my response seems to always be I am tired. Even on days where sleep was plenty, after my shower and my drive to my destination, once I settle, I am tired. How could that be possible. I try to find logical explanations, my sleep isn’t good even though plenty, my pillow sucks, my bed is too soft… but after adjusting those minor aches I still end up tired.

Then I start thinking maybe its not my environment, maybe its me. I am happy, or am I? Is it just a face that I put on to suppress the fact that I am not. Can I admit to my self that I am not happy. I think I’m depressed. I put on my clinical hat and I analyze myself and my emotions and I am pretty sure I am depressed. I want sleep all the time, I want quiet, I want to be left alone and every step I take to complete my day feels like a burden. But I can’t say that out loud, too much depends on it… too many people depend on me. I am depress and I hide it well with my smiles and my jokes… then there is my regrets. My mouth gets me in trouble because sometimes my emotions are released and not everyone will like what I have said… but once its out there you cant really take it back… None of this can be said out loud because once it is, that’s it. The foundation I’ve worked endlessly for will crumble and the earth will spin faster and before I know it… quiet its a dangerous line between peace and losing it.


Random moments of weakness…

Some times I just feel like I can never win…I open my mouth and when a little truth comes out someone’s feelings get hurt…. It can never just be about me. Shouldn’t it be just about me some times…

I slipped and I spoke before I could think and hold my tongue and I said it’s about me… It’s me and it was a mistake because now, now there is this rift… This unspoken tension in the silence and the quick simple responses… Yes, fine and ok.

Silly me, silly silly silly me. How could I ever think that it could be just about me.. my moment of weakness… Double stupid pointless weakness…