11/13/2024
I haven’t written anything in what feels like years. I’m burned out and uninspired – my worst nightmare. I think I’ve accidentally sacrificed my creativity, peace, wonder, and happiness for this life of success. I’m trying to find those parts in me but it’s dark inside. I look in the mirror and I started to see my father and it reminded me of that quote by Cathrine Lacey, “if you’re raised with an angry man in your house, there will always be an angry man in your house.” I live with a sweet, loving man which makes me the angry man inside my home. I am my father’s anger and I am my mother’s sadness. I think it will always be this way for me. I tried to be different. I made myself seem special but I am only a person, limited to one thing or the other and how fucked I chose money and success overall. I don’t even have money or success yet but my happiness is fleeting the closer I get. I may not be able to balance money with happiness but I will martyr myself so that others after me can. I may die hollow, but it’s worth it if I help other achieve it. For now, I am tired but I must go on. I will always go on until I am swallowed by the earth. I am resilient but I’d rather be soft. Now I have sharp fangs and a rabid tongue – just like my father and probably his father before him. I’ve traded in bows and manicured nails for poison and claws. I saw society turned me into a beast, maybe it was nature that made me this way, or worse, I did it to myself. When you take away the dreams of a dreamer and the love out of a lover, all that is left is a shell of a person. A vacant shell that once held life. My shell is not empty just yet, it houses an angry man that’s angry at THE man. The only good thing I can do with this angry man inside of my house, is use him towards the ones who set society up this way. I was once my father’s worse nightmare; I will become a nightmare to ALL angry men in the homes of little girls.
11/16/2024
I woke up this morning and cried within five minutes of being awake. It’s that time of year, the most wonderful time of the year, apparently. Why is it the most wonderful time of the year? Who establishes it’s the most wonderful time of the year? People with stable family units who share love and life under one roof? The one’s who never had to watch the earth embrace their loved one’s body to be forever blanketed by dirt? Nature is dying outside and I’m reminded of all my loved ones, who unlike the flowers, have died, but will never blossom from the dirt that holds them. I’m reminded of the love that has died between me and living. The cracks in my broken home make themselves known and no amount of Christmas lights can hide the empty that lies within the cracks of my home. The home of my mother, the home I was supposed to live in with my then husband, the home of my childhood, and the home that is myself. I can handle the death of myself every winter brings, but I cannot stand the permanent death of pieces of my heart my grandmother held, my father held, my cousin held, my past held. I’m constantly trying to find ways to make the past present. To be myself now but in the times, I sat next to my father in a dark room every Christmas as the family he married and hated conjured in the kitchen and living rooms. I want to be my present self in my childhood living room opening a box with a puppy I had been asking for that was rumbling under the tree before I got to it. I want to be my present self as I smoke a cigarette with my grandmother in the garage at 2 in the morning because both of us could never sleep. I want to tell her she was my best friend and my greatest ally in a world that felt against me. Thanksgiving use to bring a table full of food, family, and endless things to be grateful for and over the years I watch the seats become vacant and the table become empty and it’s just me sitting alone in the dark with nothing on my plate. Nothing on the table. Nothing in my heart but the ghost of it all haunting it.
My bf’s parents didn’t invite me to Thanksgiving this year. They didn’t invite either of us for anything years before but this year only one invitation was extended and it was towards him and not me. I wouldn’t have gone anyways, but it was a reminder that the family unit around me is becoming scarce and maybe I’m to blame. I’m always isolating myself, never reaching out, never trying. No one knows how much I love them, and I don’t know how to express it to them. I think that sometimes by me staying alive is my act of love towards them and that’s enough. They don’t know I have to make the choice every morning to wake up and live again. They don’t know that when I reach for bottles of medication that’s supposed to be helping this feeling, that I have to tell myself to take one each instead of eating the everything in every bottle and going back to sleep where I too can be blanketed by the dirt.
Is it nature to feel like you have to survive this time of year? Am I just following instinct and everyone else around me are the delusional ones of trying to make this time of year feel alive and joyful? I don’t see the birds and squirrels relaxing like everything is okay, they are stressed out gathering food and preparing for long flights so that they stay alive through the season of death. I see the trees grieving every lost leaf that falls from their branches. I watch the flowers lose color. The day loses color and the nights are long and dark. I’ve never once thought of myself better than nature, I’ve thought of myself one with it as we cycle through the seasons together. My inner seasons follow the outer seasons and my uterus follows the cycles of the moon. I’m tired of going against nature and my instinct because others deny the fact that they too need to die with the trees and rest with the bears. Maybe this is why I am depressed more this time of year. It’s not me that’s the problem, but everyone else who forces the world to go on when we should all be dying and resting. If we could all take after nature, I think everyone would be better people by spring. You don’t force flowers to bloom in frozen soil, so why should I?
