Sometimes I forget I don’t have to be terrified anymore.
Seeing her for less then a minute makes me all uneasy again. Like now, when I have to much time to think.
I forgot for a moment I don’t have to be terrified in my own home. Waiting for someone every night, thinking as I pull down the sheets what is my exit plan with my daughter if they were going to come get me… where is my bat, feeling as if I’m being watched through every thin curtain or crack in the blinds, rehearsing the next morning how to plan the nine steps to my car. They could have done something easily before, now I hope I’m a past tense…that even as she stared me down yesterday she forgot a moment later.
I have to remember that house is empty and dirty and gross and I have power.
Still, I lay here and it is silent. It’s almost more terrifying because I can’t hear any moods, any expressions… And I can’t figure out if not knowing where they are is more scary.
Signs you may have outgrown your “diverse neighborhood”:
You bring artificially flavored, store bought, wafer cookies to a last minute potluck. It’s what your daughter wants but you didn’t get the memo about the homemade all natural vegetarian spread… And if there was a record, it would have scratched, and immediately stopped. Raise your hand if you’re a working mom who cracks the joke about at least bringing hummus to balance it out and all you receive is glare.
You wish no one had mentioned that your daughter (who lives farthest from the coveted neighborhood school) got in to the hostess who’s daughter is #1 on the wait list and they live right beside it.
You laugh when people give dirty looks to the rowdy playing kids while the songwriters round is being showcased….even though the amount of kids almost surpasses the number of adults.
Glad I got that out of my system… Please someone hand me another blue moon to guzzle past the pbr cause my shoes are so not cool enough
… Damn Tom’s knockoffs.
Ten feet away there is a child and he is screaming. The kind that begs for love. There is nothing between us but a wall. I am naked staring at tile in a tub …
And I am powerless.
The first time I meet them I am sitting on the ground. My hands are dirty but I am clean. blond hair and blue eyes … She looks at me as she hugs a doll. She reminds me of my daughter. Five children around her stand there staring. “you look nothing like I thought you would”. Her mother has told horrible things about me. “when you get mad does your daughter scream when they take her away from you? I do.” …
I am powerless.
For seven months I have heard horrible things.. Unimaginable things you would never say to a child. Let alone a toddler, a preschooler, a young girl. I have laid here and listened. Cringed and cried. I have taught my daughter not to talk to the children who live there. By example showed her how to shun…
I am powerless.
They won’t take them away unless there are visible bruises …. but trust me there are plenty of bruises no matter what they choose to say. …
I am powerless.
There is a chance I might be free of the daily things I must endure everyday. The screaming, the harassing, changing my daily habits to avoid, being prisoner in my home.
And I sit here and I weep. And weep. And I can not stop.
I am powerless.
To protect myself and my family I will have to watch them leave.
And I am powerless.
a sergeant with the local police station sent this to me after cried in front of him, the commander, and half of my neighbors in a meeting about the situation i am having to deal with: a neighbor who harrasses me and makes my life miserable. i started crying all over again but it was very nice of him even though he already gave me a cup of skittles.
It’s okay to cry when your heart is broken. The dream of a peaceful life is big enough to lament over…
Positional Strategy:
#10. When in trouble, remember that attack is often the best form of defense. Look for such possibility.
If I get it all down on paper, it’s no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I’m naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you’ll use them, however you want to
anna nalick- just breathe (2 am)
My right brain looked at my left brain and said “excuse me, I’m sorry but … Who may i ask are you again??”
I’m either thinking too much these days or all the symbolism I see showing up is telling me something. Stuff about me.
I’m beside myself when I sit and stare.. All the unclean lines start screaming at me for order. I start tearing down all the things from my walls and paint something new. All a sudden I need symmetry. I am very much an asymmetrical gal.. I like things to have a sense of oddity .. Something to make you stop and think “hmm”.
Or do I? Or, is it just all the change in my life ? the chaos I feel I have been living in? Is my mind just BEGGING for some kind of order?
Perfection. Minimalist. Clean lines. Symmetry. Calming colors. Abstract. The me I didn’t know existed. I can’t figure out of its creeping me out or not.
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