does this count as therapy? does this count as anything?

Monday, January 10, 2011

30 DAY CHALLENGE.

Here we go:


This is sort of a writing exercise for me, just to keep me going. I recently had the pleasure of reading Whitney's blog(and yes, I went ALL THE WAY back, and yes, I cried).  She is...one of the most incredible women I know, and I think she said something that really struck a chord in me... That her and I don't have much in common aside from how much we absolutely love each other, and both of us are better people for knowing each other. I'm paraphrasing, of course. :) 

Anyway, she's doing this, and I stole it from her. I think it's going to be really good for me. 


Day 1: Your current relationship, if single, discuss how single life is. 

Okay. Single. Well, it's me and Dan Fashion, my wee dog. Happy to be so. Cannot really imagine myself happy with anyone as a "significant other" at the moment. 

After Farran and everything that happened with us, the things that still affect me, the things that do not, the way I find myself thinking about the things I did right, and the things I did wrong, how I have to remind myself that no matter how right the things I did right were, or how wrong the wrongs, I didn't deserve what happened to me as a result of someone I loved not being able to honor me with something as simple as fidelity, if not fidelity, at least honesty, so I could protect myself. 

That I still feel like I must've done SOMETHING, because having the choice to have children taken away like that, without my knowledge or consent... the pain echoes inside of me on a daily basis. 

If I believed in Karma, as my mother does, I would believe that to have something like this happen to me would be a clear sign that I am a total piece of shit. 

I do not believe in Karma, and some days it feels like the non-belief is a defense. 

I just… I had no idea I would ever need to protect myself from someone I loved. 

I hate talking about it, it feels like I'm trying to get people to feel sorry for me, but I feel compelled to do so at times. It usually happens with people who knew us together and then separately, or vice versa. It's like I have this overwhelming need to make sure that people know how terrible he is, what he's ruined, this piece of me. 

That I will never know my own child makes me want to fully weep almost every time it crosses my mind. 

That this is a direct result of someone I loved's lack of respect for me and my body, what could have been possible in my life after him… makes me want to strike out at him. 

I have made the unfortunate decision to write about this while sitting in a school hallway, waiting for Ellexis, daughter of my oldest friend. The sounds of children all around make my throat thick, and I sit here on this bench and hope that there is no need for me to speak anytime soon, for I could not without betraying at least some of what I currently carry. 

I feel like this is something that I do to myself on purpose, so that I can feel the emotional part of this purely, so that I don't hide my feelings from myself about not being able to bring children into this world, a privilege and right of most women born as women. 

It feels like I'm punishing myself for something I cannot apologize for, as I have no idea what it could be. 

I still do it. 

I think that single life for most is like coupled life. Just the same, but with one less thing. For me, it is the same, only with the unavailable possibility for infinitely more present, like a ghost at my shoulder. Felt, but not fleshed out, and never to be so. 



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