Children get older and I’m getting old now, too.

27 Nov 2010 Leave a comment

by FilthyRotten in Uncategorized

Where were you 10 years ago? I can almost remember perfectly.

Bb had just been born. Her birthday was the 18th. I was scared and emotionally stranded, chock full of depression and all those other things that turns being a new mommy into something dark, shameful and vicious.

I keep going back to those times and I have to ask myself why. I mean, there’s nothing for me there. Nothing but regret for the things I should have done or done differently or not done at all. I cloak myself in the scent of failure and I stumble through all the anger and I wonder why? Why put myself through it all over again?

I can’t make anyone else take account of what I’ve gone through. I can’t force the memories to become something other than what they are.

I think it’s this time of year. I start to feel like lead and forget what it’s like to feel like anything else.

So, lets talk about something more important:

Bre turned 10.

A whole decade of my peaches and cream little rocker girl. Having a daughter is a strange and wicked thing. Every time I look at her I see her as she is and was and it’s all tinted with the way she will be.

It’s hard to put into words how I see my daughter. From tiny pink bundle that scared me to pick up to the wild haired, laughing beautiful little girl she is now.

Little girl.

She’s almost as tall as I am, I wouldn’t call her willowy but she’s got a certain kind of grace… when she’s not stumbling into everything or thudding around the house after her brothers.

She aims for ‘cute’ in the way of bigger girls surrounded by smaller ones. Poor tall girl. Sometimes when I look at her I still get scared in that heart thudding way I did 10 years ago. Scared to mess up, to pick her up the wrong way…scared that I am not enough to handle such an amazing little beast. Then she grins and my heart beats the right way again.

My so-called ‘mates’.

10 Nov 2010 7 Comments

by FilthyRotten in buffoons are not like baboons, in a Blue October kind of mood

So, in a perfect world I would be spending this time working on my NaNo submission or on something for PubIt. Instead I’m writing about something that’s been pissing me off for the past couple weeks, but I’ve been loathe to post because…well because I’ve been kinda testy lately.

What’s the difference between an actual friend, an acquaintance, and someone who just hangs out with you?

I don’t mean like BFF. I’ve been spoiled by having Kris as my best friend for the past 15 years. I learned from her that friendship is as true and faithful as love. I still consider her a part of my life that I just can’t live without (even though we only talk once a month and haven’t seen each other since 2007), same as I felt back in highschool.

I’m talking about people you see on a daily basis. Who are really your friends? How long does it take to get to know a person before you see past the hype, drama, outright lies?

At which point do you finally say: okay, this person isn’t who I think they are, I should treat them like I’d like to be treated and get to know them?

Or do you?

Typically I’ve been the type of person who doesn’t care WHAT you think of her, just don’t cross me. I hate getting blood on my clothing.

And I suppose that has been my downfall. I don’t like being treated like a monster or a tyrant and yet…this is how I’ve taught people to treat me.

Let’s be honest here, I am used to being left alone because I’ve forced people to leave me alone. I can be scary and I know how to manipulate people into doing what I want through pain, fear and alienation.

I’m a bad bad woman.

But lets just say I’m getting older and softer around the edges.

This wall I’ve built up has left me feeling kind of alone. Adrift and mainly cold. I’ve assumed that the people who’ve known me for these past 6 years have seen through the miasma I’ve laid down like some smoke trial.

Apparently not.

This year has made it painfully apparent that I’ve done too well of a job of scaring the pants off of people  in general… and that people in general have done too well of a job of spreading tall tales. People I don’t even know are afraid of me. Why? I have no idea. I think it’s fucking stupid to be afraid of someone that you don’t know.

I mean really people, why waste the energy?

Anyway, I asked the first question because I really need to start weeding out my so-called mates from the rest of the herd.

I have a tendency to pretty much accept people at face value and end up all shocked and amazed and horror-struck when they turn out to be otherwise.  Gullible? Me?

My sisterinlaw pointed out the obvious…either change or accept what I have wrought. Why this is hard for me, I do not know. I think because the misconception is so blatant a lie.

It’s more than “She’s loud and will yell at you,” (In general I do not yell at people, I will put them in their place and/or cuss them out). It’s the fact that people really and truly act as though they’re afraid I’ll snap and start breaking necks.

…and maybe I should start.

 

 

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