I have been stalling….keep cranking the engine and then just as it is about to engage..I back off..and shut the engine back into rest..sleep..why..?

I think my moments of words on paper..or filtered through your computer screen are frivolities…and a waste of anyone’s time..

I am trying to understand why I am in this space…a space I have been in before..and recognize like an old..worn is familiar..this hesitancy..this place..and I do not like it..because it tells me I am holding back..thinking stupid thoughts..and believing that which I have fought so hard against..

I have finished the book…I have printed it out..and have sat and stared at it like a dirty pile of dishes waiting to be washed…like a stack of towels wet from showers and baths..waiting to mold…I have sat and looked at the title page..hands a shaking..and thought about tossing it into the garbage can..and forgetting I ever wrote these words..and most of all..ever lived them…

That is the part that makes me run..makes me want to paint myself in other colors and give myself a new name..I do not like..and perhaps I identify..I am the person..the woman detailed within the pages of my book…

I do not want to be the little girl sitting under the kitchen table eating dog food..because there was no food..

I do not want to be the little girl..kicking and screaming..wiping the blood off her mouth..

I do not want to be the young lady living on the streets..feeling free..and walking straight into the arms of the abuser…

I do not want to be the married woman..struggling to keep the baby inside of her..when one had just been beaten out of her…

I do not want to be the mother asking her children’s father for…and kindness..

I do not want to be the frantic single mother..trying to keep a family whole while realizing what had been enacted upon all five of us..

I do not want to be the woman who lost everything because she would not cooperate and be beaten…

I do not want to be the woman who faces a disease she has a name for and the other “issues” the doctors have no names for..just staring eyes..and shrugs of their shoulders…

And why do I not want to be this person..she is all different places in her life..yet why today do I not want to be her..?

Perhaps it is the shame that swallows me up..when I sit back and look at this..the shame I think is the only way I think I will be viewed when others hear my words…

The way I am viewing myself..and realize it is the final step..the final threshold I must step through to be done with move into the rest of my life..

The final laying it on the line..spilling the beans..taking the lock off the closet..and letting the bag of marbles empty across the tile floor and have me clamor and slip about…till my step gets steady…

The moment I realize this is not about is about this person carrying something..that is time to be released..time to give back thoughts..actions..which were never mine to carry…and I feel bad..I ache inside..because they are burdens..and I do not want anyone else to feel this..but I must..because there must be accountability..there has to be release..

I have to make the final stand..stop punishing this person..and let another figure things out..

I pulled out the directions long ago..with the map and made my way through the maze of streets..roads and highways..

I took detours in places I hated and found towns I loved and helped me find peace…or my version of peace..

I went window shopping and glanced at the reflection of me..and wondered who it was…

I went to the buffet..and ate..from a variety of selections and found me..

I finally settled…wrote these words…looked about..planted the garden..and claimed me..which is the hardest thing I have done…

I got to the space..just today..just this I sit at this keyboard..and do not feel the shame…do not feel the panic of you knowing what has happened in this life…

So I glance over at the printed pages of my book..and this odd smile moves across my face…and I think…and then say out loud…

How did you ever get so brave…?


~ by HopeGlenn on April 13, 2012.

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