I live a schizophrenic life it seems. I am in turns very happy and desperately sad, at peace but intensely angry. I try to overcome the negatives but feel at times drowned in their murky depths, unable to kick to the surface for the salvation of free air. I want to breathe deep and feel clean but find myself mired at times in the sticky, filthy dirt that lies beneath the surface.
My life is one that is essentially good. Yes, I’m permanently on the breadline but life is such that I will not fight for child support from the father of my children – their happiness is paramount and life affirming. And at the end of the day, money means fuck all without family. Yes, I am recovering from heart break – I shall recover, however slowly. Yes, I have been betrayed by those who would call me friend but piss on that friendship with astounding ease. Yes, life has been damn tough at times, the result of abuse that has been documented to some extent, I survived though, many cannot testify to their violent pasts.
I am stronger for the experience.
‘She’ – I loathe being neurotic or needy or any of the things I have proven I can be in the past. Its not me, it is She. She drives me to examine every minutiae to the point where it makes no sense. She is the insanity that was carried from Mother Dearest to daughter and is not to be trusted.
‘I’ – am the sane, strong, together side. The one who reasons accurately, sensibly and concisely.
‘Me’ – is the selfish side, the one who looks out for the best interests of ‘I’, the one who has fits of martyrdom that verge on the level of Mother. ‘Me’ has best intentions but can be a little eager in her desire to protect.
I know also though that I am finding the headstrong me of old once again. That neurotic part of me seems suppressed for the time being and I know that Eco Warrior is partly responsible for that, just as I am responsible for taking hold of the nonsense that has been thrown my way in recent months. I have taken life firmly, shaken it, thrown it to the ground and stamped ferociously on it – vandalised it and turned it into something manageable.
I have done a Banksy on it, the result will be open for debate but I personally think its an innovative way of improving shit.
I ramble; I haven’t had enough wine to be poetic…as much as I ever am – so not much. But today things made sense. I hurt still – unreasonably so – but I contain it, I mould it, I learn from it. I quieten the demons as a mother hushes a fractious infant and I lessen my appreciation for those who would hurt, abuse or degrade me. I am learning, slowly.
Trust however…..that’s a tricky one. Not sure I’ll ever manage that again, not completely.
