Life or Death

Life or Death

I’m trapped between the two worlds now. Firmly lodged. Even my dream world can’t make heads or tails of it. In a dream on Tuesday morning, me, clad in my full Wedding regalia, was pushing my mom uphill in her wheelchair. Upon reaching the top of the hill, my father laid upon the floor dressed as he was in the Hospital but the wound dressing on his leg was missing, exposing his numerous diabetes inflicted blisters to the open air. My mother, in hyper panic mode begins flailing about and screaming about how we need something to dress the wound. Something light and breatheable so it can heal or he’ll lose his leg!!! And of course in sharp contrast, my father lays there, in a semi fetal position looking extra pitiful, mumbling something inaudible to my mom under his breath. In a panic, I whip offf my veil and commence to wrapping it around my father’s afflicted leg and the pus and plasma oozed through the tulle.

Some way to start the morning. This was the day before they discharged him from the hospital. He has been back since Wednesday and everyone is paying close attention. He is not himself. He’s a shell of it, really. But I’ve not seen my mom so at peace in a while. She’s truly happy to have him back. I put myself in her shoes and if it was Earl… how I’d feel. But Earl hasn’t spent the better part of his natural life trying to monopolize my life and shut me in, either.

I keep thinking… I’m supposed to be happy. I’m embarking upon my new life, finally, with my new husband, in a new living situations… New goals.. New expectations… But I feel like I’m not allowed to be all the way happy because… The happier I am… The faster I kill my father – and then, according to my brother – inadvertently kill my mother.

I’m not sure what is expected of me at this time. I’m scared to be too happy… But… I REALLY am looking forward to this life’s change. I want to be new and different. I stare at my last name and cannot WAIT to cast it off.

*

So this is Christmas

So, this is Christmas

I didn’t expect this years Christmas to be bustling with excitement and happiness. Actually, I was quite ready for it to be just about as miserable as it is now. Although, my spirits remain high that next year’s Christmas will make up for the steady decline of Christmases that I’ve been experiencing for the last 3 years. Next year, my Christmas will be feted with my own immediate family (MY husband and MY baby on the way *fingers crossed*). No more Christmas with the Scrooges. Thankfully.

Well, this year, my father is in the hospital for Christmas. I can’t really put into words the apathy that I feel. Feeling it and recognizing it makes me feel like quite the monster. All I know is that I’m going to spend Christmas day in the hospital with my mom, my brother and dad laid up. I’m very grateful that the office gave us Tuesday off. Maybe I can be more festive then.

I await, with baited breath, December 25, 2007.

*

No Peace

No Peace

I can’t seem to find any anywhere. Not at home. Not at work. No where. Everything is in a state of disarray. Dad’s in the hospital again which is throwing everything off kilter. I’m getting messages from my Godmother that my mom finds me “unreachable”. I’m “on call” all day for this situation with my father, but I’m supposed to maintain my job somehow. I feel like I’m losing the respect of my peers at work because I keep coming in late or not at all so I can figure shit out at home. Nothing is making any sense anymore. I’m 56 days and counting down to my wedding day and everything else has gone haywire. And it feels like NO ONE understands. It sucks to feel so alone but be surrounded by people all the time. I can’t say that I know 2 other people my age in my circle of influence who are going through this. Everyone’s parents are pretty much able bodied and pretty unobstructive right now. But… I do feel the weight of the world on my shoulders right now. And I have no outlet. My blog doesn’t even bring me peace. Just a place to vent, but the anger stays. The hurt stays. The confusion stays. Only the words escape. I can’t see an end to any of this. And it scares me to be trapped in darkness for an unknown amount of time.

Please help me, Lord.

*

I’m the crazy one

I’m the crazy one.

So, yeah. I’ve not been on here much. Because there’s just too much going on – between the world in general and the planning and the crap and the bs. I just don’t have time.

But I have made a startling discovery. Every problem that any relationship has ever had upon retrospect… I’m the one to blame.

No. Seriously.

I’m the crazy one. I’m the one who has it all wrong. I have these… wild expectations from people and then I turn around and don’t want to be held to the same standards. I don’t know why I didn’t realize it before. I’m not sure how I black out and just behave that way. But I’m trying to take steps to manage it. Maybe I’ll seek some professional assistance.

That’s probably the right answer. Until then, I’ll just try not to say or ask for much. Just kind of be self-sufficient in all arenas. Then no one can say that I asked for or demanded anything from them till I get to the bottom of this.

*

Trust the Facts

Trust the Facts.

October 16th, 1998

It was a sunny saturday morning. It was his birthday morning and the morning we decided that we’d go out and buy him a new Lexus. He deserved it, he worked hard and he had run his car into the ground. And quite frankly – I was tired of hearing the breaks grind and screech when he stopped. So – seeing as though I was going to marry him… it only made sense for me to contribute to help him buy a new car. We woke up that morning and he kissed me as he went off to run an errand. He’d be back in two hours. “Perfect, ” I thought to myself, “just enough time for me to clean his room and get his stuff organized.”

While he was gone the phone rang a couple of times. But I knew my place. I’m just the girlfriend. No need to be answering. But this one number was coming up a LOT. “Davis Brown” the fancy call id read. Davis Brown had called many times last night, but my man felt compelled to ignore it. I figured it was because he was trying to give me a chance to make his birthday night memorable and not clog it up with long phone conversations where I sat idly by and hoped he’d end it soon. But now we were going on Davis Brown’s 7th call. I felt I needed to do something. I picked up the phone. “hello?” … a pause… and a hesitant woman’s voice. “Hello?” I felt the anger building up because the lies started to count off in my head. But I kept my composure. “Yes,” I repeated again pleasantly, “hello?” More hesitation…. “um… is R there?…” I responded like the comensurate secretary, “No, he’s not… may I take a message?” I heard her stutter and through tears mutter, “Wh…wh… who is this?” “I think you know who I am, sweetie. Now did you want to leave a message or not?” I uttered quite matter of factly. She began to sob and hung up. I assessed all the information I had from the beginning of the call to the end. By the time I was done, the phone rang again. And now she was yelling. Yelling about how they fucked 2 nights ago. And THEY were in love. And THEY were getting married because my ass was old and uninteresting and she had what he wanted. And I was a has been and he’s made his decision and it wasn’t me. I calmly told this little girl she needed to stop making prank calls and leave grown folks to their business. I heard her squeaking through the reciever as I placed it on the holder and heard footsteps coming up the stairs. He was back.

Hold it together, V, I encouraged myself. Do NOT lose your composure. He showed through the door all smiles and waiting for me to jump into his arms. But I must’ve had a scowl on my face because his first words were, “What’s wrong?” “Mind telling me who Crystal is?” I inquired. He stuttured (which I was used to ), but he did take his time with the response this time – which I wasn’t. “What do you mean? Who is that?” After some more questions and revealing of the phone calls from Davis Brown – he denied ADAMANTLY that he knew ANYONE named Crystal and that he had NO idea who I was talking about. When I tell you ADAMANTLY – it was like I’d just told him that the sky was green and water wasn’t wet.

Unfortunately I have this policy about people’s birthday. I feel that everyone’s birthday should be a true celebration of their lives and full of joy and happy intent. So i wasn’t going to give him the spanish inquisition now… I would hold off till later. As we went to get his current car washed, we waited in line behind the other dirty cars. And as I stared at my torn thumbs I muttered to him…. “If I promise to stay and help work things out with you… will you tell me the truth?” I waited….

The silence was deafening.

Then he said…

“You promise?”

That’s all I needed to hear. Whatever came out of his mouth from then forward was a package of lies and truth. “She is this chick that lives across the street, I fucked her once.” I tuned out after that. Because when I had the FACTS in front of me… he asked me to believe his word. And it didn’t matter how many times he did (which I found out later was MANY) but the fact that he lied before ever surrendering the truth. Lie after lie after lie after lie makes it so that we thoroughly destroyed that horse. It’s not even dead. It’s disintegrated. I truly wanted to believe every word when he asked me to. And I felt I gave him his chance… to tell me the truth. And he lied.

And I found myself in that situation COUNTLESS times. It almost seems to never end. I am NO amateur.

ALWAYS

TRUST

THE

FACTS.

*