Epiphany
Chris and I had a big fight today. No matter how hard either of us try, we just can't make me want to be a step mother. I was talking to mine today, in fact, and I asked her how she dealt with it. She said to me, "Well, I always wanted kids. You don't." It's so simple. I can't believe I never realized that before. I don't want kids. I don't think I could bring another person into this world without adequately screwing them up. I've been thinking a lot about what my friend Chris P. said the other day about animals in nature eating their young. Do you know why they do it? It's either because the baby is sick and the mother can sense its suffering, or, she has too many babies already and knows she can't take care of it. Maybe that's me. I'm the hamster who knows that I can't take care of children.
Anyway, my epiphany is that I'm unhappy. Very unhappy, in fact, practically depressed. I'm not sure why although I have a few guesses. I don't really sleep at night. Rather I stay awake and stare at my celing, thinking about the kind of life I was entitled to. The one where my parents didn't split up, the one where my mom isn't an alcoholic, and the one where I would get to assume a moderately normal childhood that wouldn't completely screw me up as an adult. And then I think of Kid Rock. This is a musician who likes to convince people he grew up in a trailer park, while, on the contrary, he grew up in a middle to upper class family living in a lovely development. I am the opposite of Kid Rock. I like to give the impression that I had a normal upbringing. I don't tell people about the horrors of my childhood. Ever. Chris doesn't even know all of it. In fact, there was but one person I told even a fraction of it to. But she's gone now. That's why I like to have a small laugh with myself when people think I'm naive bc I'm young. I might be young in age but I've seen things that even a 36-year-old woman hasn't seen. I've been in situations that most people my age couldn't fathom, and I experienced them ten years ago. In short, I've been through a lot and it cracks me up when people assume I don't know anything because I'm young and pretty.
I wrote another poem. It's about Jackie.
Solid as stone
Galvanized chain
Hard as a diamond
What now has changed?
Thick as the soil
Deep as the sea
Substance and joy
You were to me
Weak as skin
Cold as ice
What's outside and in
Can no longer suffice
Empty and vast
Broken like bone
Abstract as the past
You are gone. I am alone.
Anyway, my epiphany is that I'm unhappy. Very unhappy, in fact, practically depressed. I'm not sure why although I have a few guesses. I don't really sleep at night. Rather I stay awake and stare at my celing, thinking about the kind of life I was entitled to. The one where my parents didn't split up, the one where my mom isn't an alcoholic, and the one where I would get to assume a moderately normal childhood that wouldn't completely screw me up as an adult. And then I think of Kid Rock. This is a musician who likes to convince people he grew up in a trailer park, while, on the contrary, he grew up in a middle to upper class family living in a lovely development. I am the opposite of Kid Rock. I like to give the impression that I had a normal upbringing. I don't tell people about the horrors of my childhood. Ever. Chris doesn't even know all of it. In fact, there was but one person I told even a fraction of it to. But she's gone now. That's why I like to have a small laugh with myself when people think I'm naive bc I'm young. I might be young in age but I've seen things that even a 36-year-old woman hasn't seen. I've been in situations that most people my age couldn't fathom, and I experienced them ten years ago. In short, I've been through a lot and it cracks me up when people assume I don't know anything because I'm young and pretty.
I wrote another poem. It's about Jackie.
Solid as stone
Galvanized chain
Hard as a diamond
What now has changed?
Thick as the soil
Deep as the sea
Substance and joy
You were to me
Weak as skin
Cold as ice
What's outside and in
Can no longer suffice
Empty and vast
Broken like bone
Abstract as the past
You are gone. I am alone.