Control~ a could/would/should be essay that is or isn’t~

Control

Being in control, taking control, losing control, having control, ceding control, and using control…..

My battle with control has been a long one, one I will probably never completely give up no matter the detritus to me.

My early memories of good, bad and ugly all fighting for a piece of me go way back. I was your typical good Catholic little girl, living by those Ten Commandments…fighting for control against the bad girl who wanted to break at least half (if not more) of them. But there was also the part of me ready to uphold one or two….

1.     Do not worship any other gods besides me. “lucky for you Mr. god, I don’t know any other god’s”

2.    Do not make idols of any kind. “American idol wasn’t around”

3.    Thou shalt not take the name of the LORD thy God in vain. “God damn it, why aren’t you watching out for me? And if you are, are you getting off on this shit?

4.    Remember to observe the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. “Sunday is as good as any other day to kill the bitch.”

5.    Honor your father and mother. “I’ve got a special way planned to “honor” the bitch.”

6.    Thou shalt not kill. “Oops, guess I’m breaking bad.”

7.     Thou shalt not commit adultery. “scratch”

8.     Thou shalt not steal. “…maybe not steal, but at least borrow a shiny sharp murderous object, which may or not be used, a good piece of fallen tree may work just as well…or poison…”

9.     Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour. “They know nothing…”

10.   Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s house. “of course not, no use for it….I’m just 12 years old”

Growing up in an abusive environment with no control, and then graduating to an endless stream of relationships with one controlling person after another…whether these were friendships, family relationships or other relationships, for me control of one type or another was always there.

I realize now that a big part of me is still fighting those demons and even if I can now keep them at bay (under control) they will never completely leave me…and that is completely okay with me. These demons are a big part of me…

Somewhere along the way I managed to suppress (control) the urge to completely go off the deep end. Last night I lay awake vividly remembering all the plotting I had started before I was even ten years old. By then I already had hundreds of true crime books under my belt. I was convinced I could commit the perfect crime and get away with it.

When I was older and had hundreds more crime books under my belt, the plotting turned into something else….basically I ceded control….and I lost me. But I still had dreams of deaths, yes deaths with an “s”….

So where am I today? I am a peace loving, very vanilla, in control (ha) SAHM.

Dregs of Society~

I think of the dregs of society, the riffraff, the offscourings, the scum of the earth….the lowest of the low and I look in the mirror and I see that I am no different.

We can all judge and play it any which way we want to. Could I stand next to a known murderer or molester and feel at ease? How are they any different than I am? They aren’t, for all the remorse they may proclaim, they will forever be branded as such and looked down on with no possibility of change. To some I am no better, no amount of proclamation otherwise will change that opinion of me.  Societies dregs are of no worth to me, would it make any difference to me if they insisted they had changed? that they no longer had the urge to kill or do damage? No. Quite frankly I wouldn’t change my feelings towards them, could they possibly change? Sure, but I just wouldn’t want to be in their path and take any chances as to being wrong. And that is when the light bulb went off for me. Making a comparison of myself with the lowest this earth has, so yes I am quite as rotten as that apple in the bottom of the barrel. I couldn’t blame anyone from wanting to keep their distance from me, granted we all make mistakes of all levels, some are pardonable some are not. Some we live with the rest of our lives, that’s life. Am I a bad person? I don’t think I am, but I have my faults, some of which cannot be overlooked.

Will I define myself by my mistakes? No, I’ve held on to them long enough, I’m cutting myself some slack. If you find that you can too, then good, means we will continue to be friends, if you find you can’t, then all I can do is wish you the best.

Foundation of relationships~

We base relationships on different things. We all do. At least in my opinion I believe that we do. I would venture to say that some relationships may even have a healthy dose of pretense. She pretends he isn’t too small/too big (there) and he pretends she isn’t too big/or small (there). He pretends to like her cooking, she pretends to like to cook. She pretends to like his friends and family, he pretends to like hers. A healthy relationship built on a foundation of lies. Would complete honesty about physical shortcomings make for a better relationship? Would one half like to hear the other half listing all the shortcomings? “Hey honey, I hate your ears, they stick out too much and I think it makes you look kinda elephanty, and your ass looks like it’s grown another ass. Oh and if your tits fall anymore you can maybe invent some floor sweepers to attach to them, no sense in letting a good walk to the fridge for another piece of pie go to waste. Oh and honey I just can’t get enough of your crazy family.”

I’m past my prime, still hopeful that the pieces will come together and the puzzle will be complete. I don’t want to know the truth, well at least not the truth spilling out of his lips. I know all my physical shortcomings, I know all of my other shortcomings. The ones that have nothing to do with the outside, but the inside, the inside of my head and my heart. I’m not perfect, not in any extension of the word. I’m not a perfect mother, I never made for a perfect wife or friend. I can’t even aspire for perfection, it isn’t an ideal anyone should put on themselves. It would be setting myself for more failure. I’ve failed at enough I don’t need to try to drive myself crazier by thinking I could improve on what I think is already okay.

I naively used to think love was the most important aspect of a relationship, boy how stupid can one person be? In my new-found wisdom I can say trust trumps love. If there is no trust, there can’t be much of anything else. A foundation of trust needs to be built, once broken it is damn near impossible to repair it. I say damn near impossible, but not out of the question. I’m still hopeful, I’m still in love. Hope is alive. In me.

Trust can be broken in so many ways, someone leaves, someone lies, someone snoops, someone stalks, someone reveals intimate details to others. Rebuilding that trust takes tearing down the offending party and digging in, ripping the insides out and stomping all the bad out. Someone can’t be there when it matters the most. Putting everything back together gets tricky.

And on that note I’m checking out…meds have kicked in…so I’ll continue later, later.

 

The ONE that got away~

The one that got away…wasn’t at the end of a fishing pole nabbed by any bait on a shiny hook, reeled in by that shiny new reel. No, not quite like that. It is an old story, no fishermen involved, no placid lake waters, no fish. Sit for a spell if you will. It is a story as old as time, it is a tale of love found and love lost. They met, they flirted, they became friends, shared laughter, shared passion, shared as much as two people can when the going is good.

But when the going gets tough the tough get going. Not going in a heroic way as “Hey I’m in for the long haul.”

The going was more in the lines of “Hey, I’m tough and I’m outta here”.

C’est la vie.

The passion fizzled, the laughter stopped, the love…well the love went the way of a treasure. You know how it is when you have something you treasure, you put it away, not to take it out and admire it or longingly reflect on days of old. More like it’s something you no longer have use for but there is that old sentimentality, you can’t help but want to hang on to it, like an old pair of jeans so full of holes, asscrack is falling out, knees are shredded, but man, when you pull them up over your hips, button them and enjoy the familiar feel of comfort they bring you just have that feeling of home and for that reason alone…you keep them. You could also replace those tired old jeans and put in its place a ratty old teddy bear, old photos, you name it, whatever that one thing is that takes you back in time.

But back to the one that got away, She did. Not by choice, well at least not by her choice. So many years have come and gone, so many pages of lives lived. Life happened, and in that time there was no time for reflection on the getting away. But when time stands on a couple of dimes and the floodwaters are passing through the damn of time, it’s there again, front and center. The pain of drifting apart, the hurts hurled and meant to cut deep down to the soul. Well that there is what makes some lose their souls. It just is. And it’s all right. Time stands still for no one. Life happens, and we all move on.

Self Worth~

Maybe she’s born with it. Maybe it’s Maybelline®.

Maybe it’s a whole lot of other stuff that just bubbled up to the surface, kinda like the head on a frosty beer mug. Maybe it is the incessant reminders of mistakes made in times past. Maybe it’s the stupid games she got caught up with, though she knew it was an unfair battle, she went against someone who was entirely witless. Maybe it’s the self-repression, maybe it’s just a whole lot of this, that the other. What matters is that she recognized she had self-worth. It may not amount to more than a hill of beans but worth is worth.

She figures no price tag can be slapped on it, no negotiations need to be considered at this time, perhaps never. It’ s good to have options, this I wisely tell her. Keep your options open, dust yourself off and try again. I feel so full of wisdom, others may think I’m full of crap, it’s whatever.

She realized that she had made choices, bad choices, choices that made her self-worth conditional on other people. She accepts the responsibility for her circumstances. She made a decision to do something about them…even if others appear to stand in her way, she will work around them. She won’t resign.

I’ll be there every step of the way.♥

Blast from the past~

Funny how life is. A glance at a box and then a sly glance and the discovery of another box and then that box is opened and WOW who’d have thunk it…sigh.

if only~

So it happened and she was transported back in time, time-lapse of 20ish years, she was but a mere child, they were but mere babies. The reconnect was seamless as if no time had passed and they spoke and discovered maturity that enabled some painful truths to be absolved. Hurts were cast aside, forgiveness is such a powerful thing, if not for the offender at least for the offended.

They caught up with each others lives, those babies now had babies, marriages and divorces. Life. Pure and simple, life had happened. They played a bit of what if, the thing about what if’s can be fun for a minute or two. But life only gives you what if’s to dream about. We simply do not have the power to snap our fingers and turn back the hands of time and live out the what if’s. But there is no harm in indulging it for a minute or two…or ten.

Disconnected Interactions~

I’m experiencing a formerly unfathomable consideration to suppress heretofore verbal as well as phalangical outgoing expressions. The self fulfilling anathema extracts the elation of existence that is the standard for the hoi polloi. Astray is the marvel that saluted the emergence of a diurnal, entre nous I’ve qualms as to its homecoming. A singularly liable entity has managed to manifest the odious darkness that dwelled within.

Disconnected~

~Voices~

To hear that voice, see that mouth move

Venom from a snake, a heart with a stake

Wishful thinking, blissful lilting

Nails, wires, ropes for a dope

The joy of silence, the end of trilling

From a tree or a cliff or a mountainside

From a bottle, a pillow, a knife

In the water, on a plane, off a deck

Poof no magic draggin’

Rounds or ovals, whites and pinks

Yellows and blues, oranges too

Sweet tasting goods can fix your car

Voices that soothe, voices that lull

Words that hurt, words that purge

Love and hate, Hate and love

Words written in blood, spoken in truth

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