Harsh Reality

The way that I am feeling is in part a response to T crying for his dad last night.

For my inability to see beyond my own ego and knee jerk reaction of being hurt oh yeah that is a big factor.

Because I feel like such a fraud. That I am not really a good mom. I am not even a mediocre mom.

I come home from work, I make us dinner. I clean up, I get T’s lunch for the next day ready. I check to make sure everything has been taken out of his knapsack. Finally, I get to take my uniform off put my jammies on, wash my face and sit on the couch. T is on the computer as usual. I usually flip through Netflix throw something on and read or check messages on my phone.

I head to bed about 8:30, exhausted from my day. From being on all the time. From all the smiling and talking. I have nothing left to give to T but my kind indifference. I love him I do. I am not sure I am the right mom for him.

I want to be that mom who is there for everything. Who is able to stay home and care for her child and be there to volunteer at school. The mom who makes the arts and crafts projects that her child wants to make. Baking fresh cookies. Making dinner with all the four major food groups. But that is not the reality of my life.

My life is tiring. My anxiety is beginning to creep up again and I know why. The weather is changing so there is less sunlight. Less sunlight means less vitamin d. Less vitamin d leads to a plummet in my moods which even my meds cannot help to balance out. So I added vitamin d into my daily vitamin regime and am waiting for my energy to kick in at home. Not only during the eight hours that I am at work.

I am finding it more and more difficult to relate to T. His life is nerf guns and Scrap Mechanic. Watching videos of people playing videos. I do not know how to talk to him. I ask questions and bug for answers. He answers briefly before shutting me out. Again that is my fault.

So I need to change. Changing my behaviour will lead to a change in T’s behaviour. No more supper before the computer and t.v. Off the computer and electronics from 8:30-9 during which time T and me will play cards or talk about what is going on.

I cannot continue to follow this path. It is hurting me and hurting T. I want more than anything to be a mom that T knows loves him so much even if I cannot be and do all the things I want to for him. That is all.

Just that he knows I love him.

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Compass of Souls

Wept the child tears of lead

for the scenes of depravity shone,

in times where all claim to be more

we show our true nature.

Fangs sharpened,

tearing at skin.

Claws tapered,

to hook and rip.

Words bartered back and forth

the innocent condemned.

My right, your right

we all scream for our perceived rights.

We jostle and push,

cattle in a stampede,

aimless, scared

trodding on those

who get in the way.

The path is lost again and again

the mores, the truths.

The compass of souls is broken. 

Never again to point us

in the right direction.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

October 2/17

 

 

 

Lost

***Inspiration for this came out of a conversation with a friend who had sent my the lyrics to the song that ends Pink Floyd’s The Wall. I have never listened to it, well I have but never paid attention to the lyrics. As we messaged back and forth and the album was explained to me the words just began to flow.***

I once was a woman who was lost

stumbling through the darkness

wrapped in shadows and vines

unable to break free from the morass.

Paths shrouded in mystery

pain, despair, hunger and thirst

as I clawed my way forward

thorns scratching at my sides.

A crown of brambles sits low upon my brow

pricking the fine skin

trails of blood smear along my face

tears that I can no longer cry.

When sunlight does finally appear

driving away the gloom

the fog

the malaise I have suffered

I gasp in the clean fresh air

and am healed again.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

September 24/17

 

The Voices Within

***Picture via Pintrest***

With tongue laced in acid

words drip venom down my chest

held deep within your binding spell

unable to tear myself away.

You rip me apart

words laden with bile and hatred

etching everlasting the loathing

that I carry within myself.

Voices dripping with disdain

a roar within my brain

ripping and tearing

the fragile fabric of ego

causing me to crumple in pain.

I raise my head

tears fleeing down my cheeks

defiant in the face of your abuse

pummelled by your voice no more.

 

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

September 16/17

Was he a girl?

This picture is the only one I have of my dad as a child. I once had more but they became water damaged and I had to dispose of them. My dad is the one on the left. With the blonde curls. He kinda looks like a girl.

My Amma (Icelandic for grandma) really wanted a girl. She had my dad and my Uncle. Did she try to hide my dad’s masculinity for the formative years of his life? Or at least some twisted boy-girl version?

The only children my Amma bore were her two sons. And she so desperately wanted a daughter. Ironically my Uncle had two daughters. My dad had me. And my brother.

I have a couple of stories about my Amma from my uncle. My Aunt was not a fan of her mother-in-law. My mom has different stories and me, well I was her favorite so my glasses are rose colored.

Every time I have a thought regarding this character I am building I write it down. Thus far I have only had the two but I am beginning to view my dad differently. Or rather the fictional version I am building of him.

I must not paint my Amma as an evil villianess. I can only speculate as to what happened in her earlier life. We have no real on her.

My Afi (Icelandic for grandpa) is but a shadow to me. He passed away 1 month and 6 days before I was born. Came home drunk and fell down the basement stairs. Broke his back. Died of pneumonia.

My Amma and Afi shaped my dad.

Were one to look at my Uncle, respectable, looked after his family, never abandoning them to fate, you would never guess the family connection.

My dad? He is not an enigma. Not when I take my own reality of him, my mom’s and my brother’s and meld them.

He was a drunk. He left his family to fend for themselves. Never did he think how his actions affected his children. His wife.

Even as I worked to lower my expectations of him I was continually disappointed. The once sympathetic character I saw is now evolving into one you would most likely disdain.

This challenge I have set for myself is intriguing. I originally thought this was going to be a tale of a father who abandoned his children. Who chose alcohol to be his companion.

And with the turn of a phrase I suddenly found sympathy. Today as I wrote I may have had a small pain in my heart because I do believe my Amma may have treated my dad as a girl for the first while. And she babied him.

The great thing about this….I get to make it all up. But at the same time I am going to pluck my mind, my mom’s and my brother’s for memories and stories. For I realize that I need a clearer picture of the man who was my dad.

Friday Sept. 8

T began school on Wednesday. The above picture was taken before we left for school. He was grinning when he came out of his class and I was there to greet him. He said he had had a good day. I was encouraged given that T is not a huge fan of the education process. He read 51 pages in his new Dogman book Wednesday evening. Even more encouraging. And he went to bed like a champ.

Thursday did not have an auspicious beginning. I was up and down all night long. My hips and lower back were killing me. (I have since discovered the reason why) And so finally at 4 a.m. or so I rolled out of bed. Made a pot of coffee and sat down to try and be productive. But I could not focus. My head felt woozy and I ached everywhere. It got to such a point that I went and laid down on the couch curled into myself as I tried to get warm.

T had wanted me to walk him to school but that was not going to happen. I felt like I could not walk all the way to his school, as I was hobbling around my hips screaming in agony and my lower back felt as though something was reaching in and twisting all the muscles upside down and knotted. I took two extra strength Motrin and began to have some mobility in my legs. I hopped in the car to do my grocery shopping and a Wal-mart run.

By the time I got home it (and at this time I was still not sure what it was) my good feeling had worn off. I unpacked the groceries and left off portioning out the meat until today. Laid down on the couch and hauled the blanket over top of me. And fell asleep. I did awaken once but still tired, went back to sleep. The next time I woke up I was freezing. Ice cold. My teeth were chattering, my body shaking. I could not believe I had the flu but there you have it, I did.

T came home Thursday and dropped off his bag and went out to play with his friends. A good time was had by all and T even came inside and spent the majority of his evening with me. Went to bed without an problems. And than it began.

‘Mom, do I have to go to school tomorrow?’

‘Yes you do.’

‘But I want to stay home with you. I don’t want to go to school.’

‘Why not? What is going on tomorrow you don’t want to do?’

‘Nothing I just need a long weekend.’

‘No, you are going to school.’

And the crying began. I am positive that he cried himself to sleep. I too fell asleep. And began the night from a really bad place. It was not hell like but it was not good. I was up and down, freezing and hot. My body was still all achy. The cats finally had enough of my tossing and turning and moved to the other side of the bed. At 3ish or so, I awoke and thought I can’t handle this any more. I reached down and pulled up the fluffy blanket that I have at the foot of the bed. I never use it. Still aching I decided on more Motrin and hobbled to the kitchen for them and a swig of Pepsi. I had a sugar craving. When I went to get back in bed I realized how cold it was and turned on the heat. Yes I turned on the heat, pulled on a sweat jacket and crawled back into bed.

At 6 a.m. T’s alarm went off and I rolled over. I was coated in flu sweat, my sweat jack sodden, my hair was even wet. I rolled out of bed and turned the heat off. Went in and shook T to get up. Turned his alarm off as it was still blaring. He got up and was in a great mood. Right up until 8 a.m. when I made him get off computer and brush his teeth. I realized that I did not hear the water and told T to get in there. That is when he said he was not going to school today.

I did not handle the situation well. I could say it is because I am tired, I have the flu, I am a million and one things, but pissed off for this one. T kept saying he wanted to spend the day with me. Why did I not want to spend the day with him? I tried the explanation thing, to no avail. And than he began to cry and whine. He did not want to go to school. He wanted to spend the day with me. All in a whiney voice as he snorted back his snot his eyes kinda shiny with tears.

I told him I did not take kindly to the manipulative tactic he was  attempting to use on me. I told him to get his sweater on. More crying. More whining. I told him to get his shoes on. More crying. More whining. Are you sensing the theme here?

We walked down to the garbage and T was insisting that I walk him to school. So he could spend as much time with me as possible. I said fine but we had to go back home so I could change and get the keys. He cried the entire way back. And while he sat on the stairs. And than again when we got outside. He kept saying he would miss me. He needed to be with me today.

T cried all the way to school. Holding my hand. I was short with him because well, he had been using that whining now for almost 45 minutes. He kept asking me to turn around and go back home. I was so angry. I informed him that we were going to go and talk to his teacher. We walked up there and at first I figured it would be okay, he would see his friends and that would be end of it. But no.

At his hut I told him to leave his bag there and go play with his friends. He refused. And than proceeded to tell me he was going home. He was not going into the classroom. That is when I lost all semblance of even trying for the nonchalant I have it all together type of mom. I grabbed him by his school bag and dragged him over to the stairs. He slipped and there I was dragging him up the stairs to the door.

Knocked on door and went in to talk to his teacher. T cried the whole time. I was short and to the point with his teacher.  I really had no idea where this was coming from. He felt as though he could get nothing right in class. Math was awful and he was struggling with it already. I did not tell him that T did not like him because well T did tell me that one in confidence. So I am sharing in a blog, on the internet, that is not breaking confidence clause is it?

To top it off I look like crap because of the rough night. I am coated in and smell of flu sweat, my hair is barely combed and I had not brushed my teeth yet so was really in no position to even initiate adult like conversation.

I gave T one last hug and had to unwrap his arms from around my waist. I promised I would be back at 3:45 to meet him. I would be standing right outside the classroom. And than I walked out the door. Coldly, callously, T’s little staring after me with betrayal written all over his face.

Did I want to comfort him? Yes. Wrap my arms around him and tell him that it would all be okay? Yes. That I want to pull out my magic wand and fix all that is wrong in his life? Yes.

Instead I had to be a mean mom. I had to harden my heart and walk away. T is not going to hate me forever and ever, although at this point and time I am sure I am his least favorite person, next to the teacher. And the reason I had to do this was because I need to set limits and boundaries with T.

I know he is growing up and out, he is wanting his independence and his safety blanket mom waiting in the wings. I know that he will push me to see what point he can actually get away to before I order the cease and desist. And also because not everything in life is about fun and games.

I will go pick T up after school. We will take a slow walk home and I will get him some ice cream too. We will have a conversation about his behaviour and mine. I will apologize for some of the things I said. And hopefully I have established a new boundary that T will respect. Otherwise it is going to be a long winter for T with reading as his only occupation.

Crazy

**Picture courtesy of Pintrest

No it is what I have to do.

I am crazy here.

Acting crazy.

This is just no good.

I need to detox my brain of him.

Staring at the phone

willing it to ring…..

oh wait, it is 2017

waiting for a text.

Watching out the window

willing him by…..

that is right

dating is no more.

Staring at the door

willing it to open….

ah shit

I must have missed.

I am crazy,

insane with his touch

melancholy for his thoughts

desirous of his deeds.

No it is what I have to do.

I am crazy here.

Acting crazy.

This is just no good.

I need to detox my brain of him.

Saying good bye

tear after tear

ripping each head from view

a thousand pictures here.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

September 5/17