You Guys, a Part of my Home

Sometimes I think about you humans while I’m out. I was in Aisle 7 the other day and had the urge to just get home and write about how often I hate that I hide when I see someone I know.
I feel the comfort in my soul to know you are here. That I can come home to you and it doesn’t matter if you haven’t read all my posts to know what you can about me, but just the fact it is out there for your eyes to find.  It’s part of a success. The amount that is laid out here, it is fascinating for my heart to feel.

It makes bringing the dark and scary and wobbly personas of myself to the table (outside of WordPress), more of something I feel capable of doing.

Thanks Cyber Room. For helping to make the other rooms of my house be filled with more me.
Thank you.

 

Home of a Heart

I organize unorganized messes in the bottom of my brain.
Where parades of memory drummers
march around in circles
waiting for me to fall.

And sometimes I do
because I let myself.
Falling is sometimes the only way to feel
that something is right in life
that life is not just in the living room of my heart
but that it is the heart
and that I am here
because of it. 

 

 

 

Different Types of Tough

There are lots of good wonderfuls about life. Negative wonderfuls that make us stronger,better people.
Sometimes those saddy wonderfuls just suck to go through. We just want to be on the other side of it where we are that stronger,better person.

There are all kinds of different tough wonderfuls.
There are the monotone lines of the stuff. That are a constant apparency in your life.

There are ones that you can shove away for a little while, distract yourself with events or other people.

The rollercoaster ones that have you up for a day and then sunk to the bottom of the ocean the next. Being on that ride for weeks? That otta make your guts feel like they’re gonna spill out of your eyes.
There are ones that have you home in bed, wanting nothing to do with life.

I’m not sure if there’s a benefit in figuring out which one you’re experiencing. I suppose I just point these out because I figured which category I was in. The rollercoaster one.
In knowing that I kind of brace myself for the stomach dropping falls. It makes the happy ride in the clouds slightly salty and disfigured but that’s part of the bracing.

It’s an emotional,mental and physically exhausting trip. I tell myself often that the journey, as sucky as it is, it’s going to be okay. I have to believe that or else staying under the ocean will seem like a very pleasant and peaceful place, the glad clouds a mere unobtainable dream.

Writings of My Dark Room

Last week I went to a very dark place.

For four days I stayed inside those walls.
I was aware of all the things I should do, that I needed to do in order to be better. But I didn’t care and I became numb to things and I went out for hours at a time drinking and wandering and not even feeling alone..but.. helpless.It’s an odd idea. To have such a detailed awareness of what I need to do, and then to actually feel unable. To feel the in ability and to know that I’m making it up. That it’s all me.That I’m the one making the problem, enlarging the issue. Im the one being ridiculous and child-like and yet… I feel too weak to change it.
I began to blame every little difficult thing-like the way Zeeks bag wouldn’t zip up on the first try, or tripping over wires, if Zeek cried for more than two minutes- I blamed that on the fact that it was because I was here in Thailand. I began to get angry and I didn’t even realise it was happening.

I had felt that I would be able to get on track and get involved and do more things with Zeek outside of the home. I really believed I would.
And then. It kept on not happening. I kept telling myself I was happy working on my videos and pictures and that if I could just get those done I would feel better.
But I just got in deeper. So deep that before I knew it, I was shutting down and walking with this cement structure around myself, ignoring Morgan and doing the minimal with Zeek.
Light could not enter my space. And I don’t think I even wanted it too. For the first time in my entire life, I actually felt incapable of fixing anything. Incapable of breaking the cube, of being happy. I felt life slide from my finger tips and my lack of care became what I breathed everywhere I went. I stopped eating and using drink, I both mentally and emotionally exhausted myself.
I knew I needed to be better and I knew Morgan and Zeek didn’t deserve to be treated the way I was treating them. I knew I was failing and I just got more angry at myself. I was miserable. I didn’t even feel alone. There was a layer of numbness to everything else I felt. I was unable to be the person I wanted. I hated that I had created this room and the person I was being inside of it.
I hated it, yet I felt I could not escape it..

In the meantime I of course stopped all contact with my family and my mother worried and wanted to talk but I felt like doing nothing of the sort and I stopped emailing the few people I was because silly this, the wait time for responses had me going wild.

I removed myself from any light because I felt all it did was make the issue less raw and I needed it to be raw in order for me to come to this point.

You would think after five years of living abroad I would have accepted being away from Canada but it isn’t the case. I guess that’s partly where all the phases and stages come in.

I have reaccepted my stay here and I have reevaluated my time and I’m kind of ready to not sulk here anymore. I’m okay.

Because it got me to a desperate make believe,four walled room where enough dizzying circles would have resulted in me being put on a plane without my son and flown to my home country where counselling sessions would have been forced into my brain space.

Sometimes I guess, we need refreshing. Sometimes we need to defrag our computers, delete various people on Facebook we don’t even know anymore and dye our hair. Sometimes we need to make big changes in order for us to continue- or even to be – happy.

I Made It!

Just letting everyone know I made it back to my homeland in one piece.
Baby, Mom and all. The first 5 hour flight went well-Zeek slept the whole way.
Weren’t in Korea too long-enough time to feed him and let him roam the floor for 45 minutes. Talk about a dirty kid.
The 13 hour flight went by. I didn’t sleep well-held on to Z the entire times he slept. Hostesses were nice enough. Only had a little fussy time when he was tired but wouldn’t sleep. Overall an 8 outta 10 flight.

Canada feels amazing. It always does.
The english language seeps into my bones so good. Like a rush. Made me cry as I was exiting the airplane. The sky seems bluer, the air more crisp and people driving, I can actually see. The windows aren’t deeply tinted like they usually are in Thailand.

Everything is more clean and neat. The wires, the roads.. The fields are amazing. Corn. I haven’t seen in years. Stands up tall.
The grass is green and soft. The trees are tall and healthy.
My eyes are puffy but I am overwhelemingly happy to be here.

I am in love with my country.

Waiting

So many words and ideas and thoughts go screeching through my head. They go so fast that it is difficult to catch them.My mom arrives in two days. I have had my suitcase packed for five and we leave in six.
I don’t know if I’m emotionally ready. But then again I don’t know if I could be.
I tend to just collect as I go and gain enough momentum to carry me through.

There are pieces scattered about my husband and I, but I do not have the energy or the time to focus on them. I am looking to the horizon, Canada being my sunset and my break.

I am hoping that the carpet of my home land will envelope me in comfort that I can send back with me here, when I come. Comfort that allows me to lock the house up and walk down to catch a taxi. A taxi to a play place where Zeek can play and I can interact with other mothers.
I have stuck myself inside the home for weeks because the idea of leaving the house, is work.
And that may be okay for a little while, but in the end, it doesn’t do any good for anyone.
I get frustrated with my husband and feel lonely even though I won’t admit it and Zeek suffers because of it.
I am waiting for Canada to smooth us down. It is my way out and I look towards it like its the cure of all diseases. It’s hazardous a bit.. But it’s all I have the energy to do right now.

My Parents Anniversary

My parents anniversary is next month.
Something like 35 years.

Over the holidays of 2012, my father opened the mailbox and found divorce papers.

I was at my Aunts when my sister called.
She told me to call Mom.
So I called Mom.
Mom was 2 hours away.In a hotel.
Mom said maybe I shouldn’t go home.

I did
and spoke nothing of divorce to my Father.
He was quiet. And paced the floors like a natural professional.
And we didn’t go any nearer the topic.

He left the next morning. For Brazil.

My mom wanted him to get the papers before he left.
She did it without even telling him.

He came back earlier than planned. Before I left for Thailand.
And Mom and I sat in the basement as he entered the house and I went up to meet him and then he came down and I sat again and he stood and he began to cry.
He looked us in the eyes and said, ‘ I don’t want to leave ‘.
Our hearts crumbled together and we didn’t say much and I felt compassion and love and I wanted my parents to talk it through. .
So they did.

And that is why they will be able to celebrate there 35th anniversary next month.