2 a.m. on a Tuesday

I am wondering if I am doing the right thing for me and mine.  I know I have to be the strong one for the children, I have to keep pushing forward no matter what happens.  I will only be stronger in the long run.  I was told by a good friend that if you are not afraid of what might happen, you aren’t doing it right.  I had to laugh at that – because I am shaking.  I am shown so many graces these days.  I am in awe of the path which I am led.  I would have never considered this the way to go prior to this.  I feel it is the right path even though I have nothing in my hands.  To have nothing, I have everything.  I understand that you can’t see up if you are not at the bottom.  It breaks my heart to have to subject the kids to this kind of life.  I hate to have them see the other side, the ugly side where wanting is more than having.  Where wishes are pushed forward.  Where those who shouldn’t disappoint, do.  Maybe it is a healthy lesson early in life for them to learn so that when they get older they don’t rely on other people so much.  Perhaps I am teaching them mistrust and they will need therapy later to undo the damage done.  Either way, it is happening.  To me.  The feelings of déjà vu are under the skin, I get feelings of looks at times, even though I know that is not the case now.  I am not being judged by others, I am judging myself and harshly.  How do I respond to this now?  Am I doing the right thing by my children?  Have I been too harsh to others in the past (not that I can change actions, but apologize for my wrong ways).  Do my kids understand why I do what I do – when I don’t understand most of the time.   It is hard to work on me when I have 3 pair of eyes watching my every move trying to defend me because they are just as watchful as I am.  I have strong willed followers who are ready to take up a cause if I am being attacked by anyone.  I appreciate that, I haven’t always had a knight ride in on a white horse,   I have always had to provide my own.  I have been offered it, but I am too scared to take it.  I don’t think I would do the person right, and I would mess up their lives.  I have been told to let the people decide whether or not they want their lives messed with – but I can’t do that to anyone.  I am not the kind of person they need in their life.  I am too broken.  Their life is complicated as it is, love is a wonderful thing, but it does not conquer all.  Hurt and pain overtake any feelings of love and ruin a perfect situation.  I feel I am better alone, the detention center is almost the perfect setting for me.  Surrounded by cement walls, sounds echo across the hall not knowing where they originate from.  A person could scream and never be found.  The cameras follow you to make sure you stay on your correct path and monitor your every move.  Are you standing in one play too long, are you doing something you are not supposed to be doing.  It is a paranoid persons nightmare with the comfort of knowing that you have to be good and can’t screw up because everyone will see.  Total accountability.  Completely and totally naked in front of a crowd.  I don’t know if I have every been truly happy, I don’t think that exists.  Jeremy once asked me if I could ever be happy – and I replied I don’t know.  There was always that feeling of the other shoe about to drop.  What did I leave undone that will undo me.  I know there is a piece of string left loose to unravel and take me apart eventually.  I am still together though because I have to be – there must be a reason for my continuous physical and mental completeness that is held in this piece of flesh.  There must be a reason I had children to keep me around longer and not give up on myself.  I would have been gone from myself so many years ago otherwise.  Perhaps that is what is wrong with my parents, they are me but older and have finally quit caring all together.   Perhaps that will be me in the future and my kids will have the same lacking parent, gibbering idiot running around ignoring the fact that all is not well.  That detached human being that is unable to have empathy or feel pain anymore, or remorse.  I don’t want to be that way – I try to care.  It is hard at times to not walk off and get lost in the crowd.  I often wonder if someone would try to find me mixed in with the people rushing down the sidewalk of life toward that open pit of depression that we all so quickly run to.  I still don’t know why I am the one in this corner of the ring, I always end up with a  pair of gloves on fighting those who see me as weak.  I should just keep them on at all times, but then I become too aggressive and aggravated.  I cannot focus and need that calming effect of not thinking.  That ability to not be bothered by that which should bother me.  I know I am not normal.  I have never been that way.  I am a mesh of a strange childhood with a philosophical view placed in my head by mad people.  I don’t need enemies, I am my own worst enemy.  I have always been that way.  I see it in my children.  I don’t know how to make them normal, they are going to be just as neurotic as I am – I feel bad for those kids.  They need a better mom.  I need to be a better person.  I need to apply myself and provide for those kids better and stop staring at the sun.  I blind myself with my stupidity.  Pardon me while I use myself as a punching bag.  I do it all the time.  I think it is based on fear of the unknown future.  I have so much at stake here.  I know that if I don’t do the right thing, I will be just me.  The kids will be gone because I don’t deserve them and someone will take them away from me.  I have to not have that happen.  I want to not be afraid of my future, of my decisions.  The blind faith of life scares me.  I have to trust and believe.  I am in different waters now.  I must have faith.  I must do what I feel is right.   Otherwise, I will always wonder what if?  Like I do every day with other decisions. 

Joan Smith

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