I reflected on my life and what has brought me to this point where I am right now and I can't believe some of the things that I have lived through. It is no understatement when my mother says to me "Jeniffer you have lived more life than most people three times your age".. And looking back I really have experienced a lot and been a lot of places. The thing is that looking back over all of that I have never really been happy in my life... I found myself searching and I couldn't find one single instance where I was truly happy. How depressing. I want to blame other people or blame circumstances but I can't help feeling like it is something personal with me. I mean seriously can all those other people really be wrong and I am just the wounded victim? The odds seem against it.
Despite all of that I realized something about myself... I am a survivor. I continually bring myself out of the adversity and seemingly move on, no matter how broken I am at the moment. Maybe I just give up on the flailing dream that is dragging me under. *SIGH* and here I am.
I listened long and hard to 2 very different stories last night : the first saddened my heart in so many ways because when someone exposes themselves broken and muddled my natural instinct is just to pick them up and make it all better... To butter balm it and push them past. I was referred to last night several times as a band-aid of sorts and though I am sure it was meant as a compliment I realized what he was saying about wanting to heal what was beneath the band-aid. I kept thinking in my head... " A band-aid is good right... If you leave it on - it heals what's beneath it and it hurts when it's ripped off - so you keep it on as long as possible" then the flip of that... " Band-aids can't heal wounds that need sutures" - so I couldn't decide if I wanted to be a "band-aid" at all.
I guess as a mother you get this idea in your head that kisses are magic and that love heals everything somehow and it is a pretty defeating revelation to know that sometimes - for some people it is just not enough. I feel a little helpless over it.
It's hard to love someone so much and to feel like you are not enough for them.
I am guilty of loving people with my whole heart. My heart pours out like a faucet and strangely enough I can never turn it off completely. I know in my heart that no one is promised a tomorrow and so I seem to make it a point to make my feelings very plain so that nothing goes unsaid. I operate like everyday is the last day I have left and I try to make the best of it. I always thought that was a good thing, but I guess it can be overwhelming for some.
I have dreams of my own and I feel like I abandon them or set them aside all to often because I am so focused on being the dream for someone else. I never wanted my life to be the way that it is. I am 34, unmarried with two children and a garage full of crap I can't seem to let go of. I wanted the dream and honestly I am mad at everyone that has it and simply tosses it aside. YOU ARE FOOLS!
I am a firm believer that people lose sight all too often of the things that made them love a person so wholly to begin with, I lay in the wake of your ruin and it disgusts me.
I always feel alone. Alone in my thoughts, through my struggles and in my ideals. I am a good salesperson though.. I can sell my grandiose relationship ideals to anyone and make them think or profess that it is what they really want... But if it never really happens you would have to think that either they really didn't want that or I am not living up to my end. Who can say? I won't even attempt to dig myself into the therapy that undoubtedly I need over my self review.
Which brings me to the second story I heard last night. I talked to a person that was dying. I thought I had it all figured out up until now and that if someone was dying that they would have all these strong feelings of love and making things right and closure. As I listened to the story I heard the bitterness in their voice and the anger at the way that things were. I heard the confusion and disgust and I felt pity for them. Their whole life had been hard just like mine in so many ways and I found myself thinking - is this how I am going to be? I mean they had fought so hard to try to do right and be the best person and to love without abandon only to be an orphan to whore of the self discovery of someone else. I wondered why this conversation was put before me at that very moment. Why did I have to hear this now? I lay awake for hours thinking - my mind just raced with thought and I realized YOU CAN"T CHANGE PEOPLE - YOU SIMPLY CANNOT WILL ANOTHER TO BE WHAT YOU NEED. I feel defeated in this thought. I sit here like the child that is raising their hand in class but constantly looked over. I am raising my hand because I have the answer but no one wants to hear it.
Lastly I thought to the elderly relative that I take care of.. I understand somehow how she feels. Old. Alone. Disconnected. And... Bitter over the fact that the dream is gone. I wonder if it is better to have had it at all and have to miss is and mourn the fact that it is gone; or if it would be better to long for it and never have had it.
Why go on at all if all it will be is sadness and heartache in the end? Why do we tool away everyday and try so heard to have the completeness if it may never come? Time is the constant - it is always ticking away and we are not getting any younger. Our days are numbered and we are busy waiting... What sense does that make?
You would think that others would sense the imminent shadow of death that cloaks us from the moment we leave the womb and that they would not want to spend it waiting but rather living and doing. I don't want to have regrets and I don't want to spend my life in line. How do you decide what lines are worth waiting in and which ones are the ones you should just pass over? I feel like an ambulance struck in traffic constantly, knowing I have the power to flip the siren at anytime and push my way through the ocean of traffic but waiting impatiently because it is not always the right thing to do.
I want to scream at my indifference!!! I want to raise my fists to the sky and curse father time "YOU INSOLENT BASTARD!!!!!!!!" but what good would it really do and what would it change?
.......exactly...
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