It's two a.m. and the shocking sound of silence finally allows me to sit through and process everything that I have been feeling, everything that I have been bombarded with for the past couple of weeks. And it's not pretty. I feel raw and exposed, nerve endings brushing against sharp bristles. I wish I could sleep but unfortunately, sleep is mocking me. Too many things are playing in my head, a carousel of thoughts that I want to stop, so that I can step off the ride, but obviously I can't. Too many lights, too many sounds, too much of it all. The darkness is jeering at me.
When I named this blog, it should have quickly became apparent I am atypical. What am I after all? I don't know the answer to this yet myself. I ask myself everyday. A mother, a wife, a daughter, a friend, a lover, a mental patient, a cancer survivor...yes. These are all parts of me. Too many hats though and I feel like I'm juggling pieces here and there and soon some are are falling through the cracks and all of me will be gone.
Unlike my previous posts, this post is not meant to be upbeat. It's not meant to be funny. It might even be offensive, especially to those who know me from way back in my glory days. I don't apologize for me. I can't do that anymore.
The exposure I feel is violent, like my skin has been turned inside out...again, raw, exposed, and dangerous. I am in mourning for things I never knew I would miss so greatly. Friends, dear friends, whom I truly loved are gone, with me driving them away with my lost cause attitude. I've cried hard and long for those moments to be taken back. I want them to be repaired but no wrinkle in time, no time travel can explain how I came to be. I want them back. I want HER back. I miss the giggling and the silliness. I miss the ME that I was when I was with her. SHE made ME a better person.
Oh, there is so much I want to write but can't. About this week and how horrible the decisions I was forced to make have been. How David spent the week in Baltimore on a Business TDY and how hard single-mother hood is when it feels like hell is pulling you in like a black-hole. I can't get it out though, even though I'm trying. I can't explain how off my marriage is feeling this week, even though I know that all relationships are like the ocean, with ebbs and flows, the tides of the ocean current. Sometimes we feel completely in synch like we can work together to accomplish anything. Then we have days like today where the entire world seems to rooting for us to fail. As we argued today (by text message, lol), and I asked him if he was ready to be done with me, he simply responded with one simple note: "I'm not going anywhere. Now get back here and come be with your family."
And I did. And it was amazing. I sat down on the couch and my sweet little Ammon broke into a smile when he saw me. He started crawling over toward me and reached his little hands up to my knees. I watched as for the first time, he pulled himself to standing up, his little hands holding on to my pants for dear life. His face lit up when he saw how proud I was of him and I could only scoop him up and kiss his fat cheeks and tell him how happy he makes me. "Sweet baby, don't grow so fast," I want to say, even though I know it's inevitable. Where will I be when I'm not his favorite person in the world? What will I do when he doesn't follow me when he hears the sound of my voice or when he's moving toward daddy but sees me and changes his destination to come to me instead?
Sweet baby, don't grow up so fast.
Now it's much later and while there's still so much to say, my eyelids are finally drooping. Good night, or rather good morning.