When you’re the mother
And I am the competition
All you wanted was for me to go away
All you wanted was to mock and humiliate
To make me small.
But I was already small.
You thought I took something away from you.
I stole your shine. I stole your limelight.
But I never wanted it.
I never wanted yours.
I just wanted my own small piece.
You hate me, you know?
You can’t even see it
Because you’re trying to be good.
Trying to be enlightened.
But you can’t be enlightened
If you never expose yourself to the dark.
Today I am absent. Avoiding. I feel myself sitting back, behind my eyes, looking out. Not feeling, not thinking. Just nothing.
If you could see me, you would not. I am blank, inside and out. I am washed away, like a stain on the sand. Like a splash of blood.
When I am nothing, then there is nothing and I can be ok. I can pretend that the world and its hurt (my hurt) does not exist.
It cannot impact me.
And I’ll be fine.
Some wounds go deep. They burrow down and take root in the mud and mire of life’s little pains.
They are wounds that we glimpse out of the corner of our eye, like a ghost or a shadow.
They are the thing we pretend is not there.
They are the wounds that twist fear in our stomachs, way down in the dark of our being.
Just a flash.
Ooops, there’s a thing I should be looking at, working on.
Abandonment. Resentment. Neglect. Abuse.
These things scar us, and direct us. They take us on a journey whether we look at them or not.
They are in us. They are us.
Sometimes I fall into the trap of not knowing my own mind, after all this time.
I’ve found myself so intertwined and enmeshed in the personalities of others that I think I like what they like. Their friends should be my friends. Their interests should be mine.
And yet I find myself increasingly unsettled. If these people are my friends, why are they not acting like it? Because they don’t know? They don’t know we should be friends?
Why did I convince myself for years that I liked cheesecake? Because someone I admired and wanted to be close to liked cheesecake. Why do I insist on creating worlds that aren’t real? Why must I contrive circumstances that are false and then find myself disappointed when the facade falls away?
Why am I projecting my desires onto people who are only people? Why do I continue on the rollercoaster of expectation, disappointment and acceptance? Like a ride at the fair in a nightmare. I don’t want to get on. I have no choice.
How strange this thing is that I have done.
You have to do things differently, try a different thing, if you want things to change.
When you would normally panic, stay calm. When you would normally crumble, stay firm.
When you feel like running, stand your ground. When you’re sure you’re drowning, swim.
Easy enough to say. The mind is a stubborn creature. It’s hard to change. And when confronted will always do what it knows best. It will always return to type.
But what if the brain’s not really in charge. What if the heart decides?
I am strong. I am smart. I can cope with what’s coming.
It won’t always be perfect. It probably never will be.
But I’m climbing towards the light, stronger, clearer.
And the light is beautiful. And it’s waiting for me, to be me.
I’ve been in a bubble.
It’s quiet there and my thoughts come and go.
Not bad. Not good. Just flowing through me.
Without judgement I’ve learnt about fear.
Fear inside me, fear of perfection and my inability to find it, has created a deep dark pit.
It’s a bottomless pit that I’ve filled with self loathing. Everyday, spooning a little more in until the blackness reaches the top.
The hole is so full. And so now I’m spooning that hate out into the world. A little dollop for you. Plop plop plop. I hate myself. Let me show you how hateful I can be.
Everyday I pray for change. I pray I can hold on to the understanding.
I pray I can pull myself out of the depths.
I don’t belong there.
A bunch of stuff has happened to me in my life.
But the things I did, I did.
There’s no palming it off onto upbringing or environment.
It was all me. I just didn’t know.
I didn’t know I was the person I was.